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#and also finally name the campaigns it's been so long
qqueenofhades · 2 months
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I think its genuinely fascinating how Biden has somehow become the bad vibes sin eater for the party. I'm seeing people who were doing the whole "voting doesn't matter both old men are the same" pivot hard into voting as harm reduction. The anti voting rhetoric has COMPLETELY lost The Youths on tiktok. People suddenly remember the good things the Biden administration has done but don't associate Harris with any of the things they didn't like. In my swing state volunteers are signing up in droves. People feel ENERGIZED, the vibe shift pre and post Biden dropping from the race has just been insane
Y'know, that is a... good way of putting it. It's also why I'm quite sure that Biden has probably been planning it for a while. I don't think he was intending to step down, and didn't want to be forced out at the drop of a hat, but after he realized that the circus was never going to stop until he did, he did the honorable fall-on-his-own-sword thing and definitely, DEFINITELY spent some time choreographing this behind the scenes. Because while the roll-out has been very smooth, it could just as easily (as many of us were expecting) have been a total disaster, and that doesn't happen without SOME planning. It's also entirely possible that the campaign staff flipped from Biden to Harris are superhuman, to come up with a massive online roll-out, new branding, new signs (they had plenty of 'em in Wisconsin yesterday), new everything, but I'm guessing it's a combination of both. Biden has spent his entire political career being underestimated, and after we literally made a meme out of Dark Brandon juking the Republicans out of their shoes, we should definitely give credit where credit is due in how masterfully he pulled it off.
Because we have had eight years defined by the central question of Whether The President Is a God King Who Should Serve For Life (the MAGAts obviously think yes), the sheer idea of a president willingly giving up his power BEFORE he had to is also novel and admirable. It's sad that this is the case, but so be it. The Republicans also got a heaping helping of Be Careful What You Wish For that was undoubtedly brilliant; they've been yelling for years that Biden is old and frail and can't serve and should step down. Biden went "lol okay" and gave it to them, and now they're fucked.
Aside from that, on the most basic level, it's far, far easier to see the actual difference in the parties with Harris as the nominee, just because it shows that one party is willing to make progress and reflect the new demographic reality and social mores of America, and the other one is not. Now to be clear, Biden deserves an incredible amount of credit for coming out of retirement (he was ALREADY 77 years old when he became president and had had decades of a long and respected career in public service behind him) to fight, beat Trump, and deliver an incredibly successful presidency. He held the line against authoritarianism at home and abroad, he rescued the trashed American economy and managed a world-leading recovery from Covid, he stood up for democracy, he spent four years filling the benches with liberal judges to reverse even some of the Trump/McConnell hack job, he finally passed comprehensive infrastructure investment and the Green New Deal under the name of the Inflation Reduction Act -- and so on. Many of these priorities had been languishing for decades or were completely trashed under Trump, and he could not have done so much in just 4 years without all that age, skill, and experience. Hence why all the Ageism!!! was (aside from being a Republican/media smear job) dumb. He's able to do the job because he has had decades to study. Turns out that makes you actually pretty damn good at it.
Yes, Biden could not do as much as he wanted or originally planned, had to deal with MAGA Republicans and Joe Manchin/Kyrsten Sinema sabotaging him the whole time (lololol Manchin, possible possessor of the World's Biggest Ego and with Trump around that's saying something, popping out of obscurity to self-righteously announce he would not be willing to be Kamala's VP. YEAH ASSHOLE. LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED YOU. NOBODY WHATSOEVER. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS AT LEAST WE WILL SOON NO LONGER HAVE MANCHIN IN THE SENATE). And yes, Biden made some serious mistakes of his own, because he IS from an older generation and a different style of doing politics/different beliefs that no longer resonate with the younger segments of the electorate. But this old white Catholic guy at the age of almost 80 still managed to be the most progressive president ever, coming in at a moment of incredible domestic and international crisis and getting us safely to the other side, and all cynicism, criticizing, and caveating aside, he deserves an incredible amount of credit for that. I mean that absolutely, and I am very grateful.
As I said, willingly relinquishing that power takes guts, and when Biden saw the writing on the wall that he had to sacrifice himself, he took his time, he didn't jump too early, and he didn't jump too late. On the most basic level, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to make the "both parties are not the same" argument when one is running a (comparatively) young brown woman and the other is still running their loathed felonious old demented orange traitor. Most Americans are not plugged into policy minutiae and details. They look at Biden-Trump, they see two old white guys. When you take one of those old white guys away (who goes in a self-sacrificially heroic manner and in sharp contrast with the coup-happy fascist) and put Kamala Harris in there instead, it generates an obvious jolt. People can see for themselves that there is a real difference that doesn't rely on closely reading news and tracking complex policy, because as noted, most Americans simply don't. The brown first-generation American daughter of brown immigrants is a quantifiably different story from "old white guy career politician," which for better or worse is how Biden was seen, especially the old part. We needed that establishment expertise to beat Trump in 2020; I still think Biden is the only one who could have done it, and as noted, we owe him a great debt for doing so.
However.... 2024 is not 2020, and it is not 2016. There has been this HUGE and unbelievable swing to Kamala because she represents the antithesis of what the last eight years of Trump-induced anger, fear, panic, chaos, and hatred has stirred up. That's why people are so ready to rally around her, just as they were (I daresay) around Obama in 2008, after the exhaustion, chaos, war, and mounting economic misery of Bush. Trump has been out of office for the last four years, but his shadow over the American political landscape has been omnipresent. Now people know that we finally have a real chance at getting rid of him forever, and just as Biden was uniquely positioned to capitalize on that in 2020, so Harris is now. Which is why, however tough it will be, she has a real shot at winning. I can guarantee the Republicans know that, and are shit scared. Because the Black Lady Army of Democracy has indeed arrived in force to Get This Shit Done and I don't know about you, but I found that incalculably comforting:
Yikes! All lined up for Kamala pic.twitter.com/Dt4OCDp7WX
— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) July 24, 2024
This, at the most basic level, is what scares fascists the most, it's exactly what we need now, and what Harris is uniquely positioned to mobilize, along with her gangbusters appeal to young voters:
This is the energy we need. This is what Biden saw and planned for and which he launched us into, and where all that experience and age paid off. This is why people, even people otherwise disengaged, disillusioned, or checked out of the tedious and mind-numbering drudgery and depression of American politics, are responding to it. Because it's easy to understand, it offers hope, and it tells a very simple story that is nonetheless long overdue:
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Thanks so much, Joe. Go absolutely waste that orange fucker, Kamala. We got your back.
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steddiealltheway · 10 months
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Steve glances down at his watch and looks around at the kids anxiously awaiting Eddie's arrival. He's five minutes late. In any other situation, this wouldn't be a lot, but considering that Eddie makes it a point to be either on time or (most likely) early to anything involving D&D with the party... it's highly concerning.
Steve glances at his watch again just to give himself something to do when Dustin finally bursts out, "Okay! This has to be a prank, right? Like someone has to be in on this."
Steve glances at all the other kids staring blankly at Dustin and finally decides to take matters into his own hands. "I don't think that's what's going on, Henderson, but thanks for the input. You guys stay here, and I'll go check on his place."
"I'm coming with you," Dustin states firmly.
Steve furrows his brows. "No, you're staying because if Eddie gets here and you're gone then that just means more waiting." When Dustin crosses his arms and continues staring, Steve sighs, digs his wallet out of his pocket, and hands Dustin a few bills. "Order a pizza and hang out for a bit or something. Walkie me if he gets here."
Dustin smiles brightly and takes the money immediately rushing off to Mike who is already on the phone calling the pizza place. Steve puts his hands on his hips and asks, "And what do you say?"
"Thanks, Mom," Mike says flatly, raising his eyebrows and looking entirely unimpressed.
"Thank you!" Lucas says as Will smiles and gives him a quiet, "Thank you, Steve."
Steve waits for Dustin who rolls his eyes and says, "Thank you. Now check on Eddie." Steve raises his eyebrows. Dustin sighs, "Please."
"You guys are going to be the death of me," Steve says as he makes his way up the Wheeler's basement steps. He wishes Max and El were there to have his back, but they had taken the chance to have a sleepover while the guys were too distracted to interfere with their girl time. He thinks calling Max to ask her to check on Eddie would also count as interfering.
It's not that Steve minds too much. Really, he rarely gets alone time with Eddie, and it's been a while since he's truly checked up on him. After the bats, Steve often went to his place and helped with wound care since he personally knew what he was going through. But as time went on and their injuries slowly turned into scars, it was harder to find excuses to see Eddie alone.
So, Steve settles for seeing him when the kids invite them both to something, and he's started to even hang around during their D&D sessions, soaking in all of Eddie that he can. He still refuses to play, too afraid of the kids making fun of him for getting confused, but he easily gets lost in the campaigns through Eddie's storytelling.
He thinks it's easy to get lost in anything Eddie's passionate about. It may go right over Steve's head, but he would do just about anything to listen to Eddie ramble - sometimes it might just be an excuse to stare at his lips, but no one (except Robin) needed to know that.
Steve nearly misses his turn while thinking a little too hard about Eddie's lips, but he makes it, turning into the trailer park and parking outside of Eddie's place fairly quickly. He sees Eddie's van in the driveway and takes a deep breath, hoping Eddie just somehow lost track of time or something.
Steve quickly rushes out of the car and knocks on the front door, waiting to hear Eddie's footsteps or grumbling as he makes it to the door.
But silence is the only thing coming from the other side.
Steve knocks harder, hoping the neighbors won't start snooping with all the noise he's making, especially when, a few seconds later, Steve decides he has waited long enough and pulls the door open. He quickly closes it and locks it on instinct as he calls out, "Eddie?"
The living room and kitchen are empty, but Steve doesn't hear the shower running, so he quickly bursts into Eddie's room calling out his name again.
His eyes fall on Eddie lying in bed with the covers tucked all around him, but his pale face is slightly visible through the dark strands of hair covering it. The last time Steve had seen him like this was in the upside down when...
"Eddie!" Steve says, rushing to the side of the bed and brushing the hair out of his face. He cups Eddie's face in his hands and nearly shakes him before he sees his brows twitch as he begins frowning.
"What..." Eddie groans out, eyes squinting open.
Steve breathes out a sigh of relief as he nearly tackles Eddie into a tight hug, ending up nearly on top of him.
"Good morning to you, too," Eddie jokes, squeezing Steve back. "Wait, what time is it?"
Steve pulls back and looks down at him. He runs a hand over his cheek, feeling the warmth of it against his palm, a reminder that he's okay. "It's past five, and it's Friday."
It takes a few moments before a look of realization crosses over Eddie's face, his eyes widening as he curses, "Shit! I couldn't sleep last night, and I decided to take a nap around... three? Maybe?" He shifts back on the bed and starts trying to sit up.
Steve places a hand on his chest and pushes him back down.
"Hello," Eddie says as a blush spreads across his face. "This is fun, but I have a dungeon to master," he jokes, showing off his dimples.
Steve nearly forgets how to breathe for a second, but he finally gets it together enough to say, "You and I both know how hard it is to sleep after everything, so if you're able to sleep now, then you're sleeping."
"I'm fine, re-" Eddie yawns and covers his mouth. "Really."
Steve raises his eyebrows at him.
Eddie sighs and turns on his side to directly face him. "Steve, the kids will kill me if I don't do this session tonight."
"And I'll kill them if they give you shit about it. Does tomorrow night work?"
"I mean, yeah, probably but-"
"Great," Steve interrupts as he stands up and grabs the walkie Eddie keeps on a designated shelf. "Hey, Dustin, this is Steve."
"Is it a code red? Over." Dustin immediately replies on the other side.
"No, everything is fine here. We just need to postpone until tomorrow night if that's fine with everyone."
"There is no postponing D&D!" Dustin screeches.
Steve sighs and replies, "If you complain again I'm giving you no rides or money for a month."
There's a long pause from the other side before there's a response, "Tomorrow works! See you then!" Lucas answers.
Steve looks back at Eddie and gestures toward the walkie. "See?"
Except, Eddie is already beginning to doze off again, head nodding and snapping up every few seconds.
Steve smiles and slowly makes his way back to the bed, gently guiding Eddie back down before tugging up the covers and leaning over to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead. "Goodnight."
As Steve begins to move back, Eddie's hand latches onto his wrist. He stares up at him sleepily and asks, "Stay? You need the sleep, too."
And he's right. He absolutely does need the sleep, and there's no way he's going to turn down the offer from Eddie, but... "Eddie, you're half asleep, you don't know what you're asking."
Eddie looks him in the eye and says, "I know exactly what I'm asking, and if I read the signs wrong then sue me."
Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest. "Eddie..."
"Let's talk about feelings and everything when we wake up, okay? If you don't want to stay, that's okay. But know that I would want you here no matter what."
Steve looks down at him for a few seconds before he turns to take off his shoes. When he turns back, Eddie is smiling and holding the blanket up.
Steve accepts the invitation and finds himself wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Steve gently runs a hand through Eddie's hair, only stopping when Eddie grabs his hand and presses a gentle kiss against it.
Steve responds by bending down and planting a kiss on Eddie's head. He smiles when Eddie happily hums.
As Steve focuses on Eddie's breathing evening out, he finds himself matching it and slowly starts drifting off, falling asleep easily for the first time in a long time with happy thoughts of what's to come when they finally wake up.
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deebris · 6 months
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Seems like destiny
Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader
Synopsis: After spending years in the bone marrow donation system, encouraged by the army, Simon was finally notified that they had found a match. He just didn't expect to find out that he would be donating it to his own son, who he had with his teenage love and never knew.
Warnings: Family problems, panic attacks, teenage pregnancy, swearing, mention of diseases such as leukemia, murder, archaic ideas, anguish.
Word count: 3.5 k
Any questions or errors, please let me know.
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Simon always remembers how the army encouraged soldiers to be blood donors. There was a great concern within about it, as it was one of the ways the government found to help hospitals and people who depend on transfusions to survive.
Then campaigns for bone marrow donation began, but it was so rare to find someone compatible that after 6 years on the waiting list, Simon thought he would never find someone who would need him. But that changed two months ago when he received a call from the institute informing him that he should go there immediately.
He underwent more medical exams than he had ever done, and although he was a tough guy, he couldn't deny the pain he felt in the weeks following the procedure. Among so many people dying in beds waiting to find a donor, someone could finally heal because of him. It made Simon feel good about himself, as good as he hadn't felt in a long time. That had been one of the reasons why he joined the army: to help people.
Now he could only hope that whoever he donated to would improve. He found himself during the day thinking about it, wondering if in a few years it would affect him as much as it does now. It's not very fresh in his memory, but Simon is able to superficially remember the day he registered on the bone marrow donor list. He had been in the army for a short time, still a soldier, and "Ghost" didn't even exist yet.
He thought this would be put aside. He didn't understand if he would need to donate more often, not really knowing the process deeply. That's why when he received another call from the same institute, he thought there had been some mistake, or that they would need more, but the reason for the contact surprised him.
The recipient's caregiver wanted to meet him and was willing to break the standard anonymity by revealing their identity. Accepting the offer would mean that he would also need to disclose his personal information, which is why he hesitated so much. But as he constantly replayed the woman's words in his head, he grew restless.
"The caregiver wants to meet you," that's what she said. Could the recipient be a child? Or perhaps an elderly person? Or maybe someone who was already so ill that they could barely decide for themselves. He shouldn't have any information about this person, even something as empty as what that lady had let slip.
"You should accept. Everyone would like to have the opportunity to personally thank the person who saved their life," were the words of his Captain, John "Price." And it had been the push that Simon needed to agree to the idea.
Now, standing in front of the hospital room door, Ghost debated with himself whether he should open it. Just a few meters away was the little boy who had been haunting his mind for the past few days. And how did he know it was a boy? He had been directed to the children's oncology ward when he arrived at the reception minutes ago, as soon as he was cleared by the unit director, who already knew about the situation and the breach of anonymity.
Furthermore, the clipboard with the patient's information on the door also made it clear that it was a boy. The name "Lucas" was printed on the paper, accompanied by a surname that was familiar to him. There weren't many people in the UK with that name, which caught his attention.
All that separated him from the family was that door, dividing the cold hospital corridor from the room he could only hope would be less disheartening and empty. He didn't know if he would find a smile on the other side, or if he would be met with the sad gaze of the child's mother.
This woman had contacted him through a letter. On that day, he hadn't yet notified the institute that he was willing to speak with her, so the letter came anonymously since nothing had been filed. He read what she had to say, revealing some things, such as the fact that she was a single mother and was extremely grateful to God for sending him to save her son. Some paragraphs were difficult to read, where she recounted how she had lost hope before.
The little comfort he found in that text was when she talked about the boy. In those passages, her handwriting was less shaky, and he was sure she was happier when she wrote those parts of the letter. He knew that this had been her attempt to persuade him to come meet her, but without her knowing, he had already decided. Simon kept the piece of paper with him and reread it in his spare moments.
That stirred his emotions. He thought he had managed to harden his heart after everything he had been through, but he was wrong. Deep down in his soul, he was more emotional than he let on to others. He hoped that "Soap" would never find out, or he would be eternally tormented.
"Damn," he muttered softly, snapping back to reality. Simon began to bitterly regret agreeing to this. He should have declined and moved on. He could leave, but he was already here, so he mustered up the courage to knock on the wood.
He considered himself presentable in the civilian clothes he wore, accustomed to the heavy military equipment he carried all day at the base, and also missing the mask covering his face. Simon adjusted the collar of his dress shirt, as a way to occupy his sweaty hands, more nervous about the approaching footsteps he heard than his appearance.
Before the door opened, he had already told himself he would remain silent and wait for the boy's mother to start the conversation. If she asked who he was, he would state his name and explain why was there. But as the woman inside was revealed to him, he fell silent not because he had decided to, but because he was speechless. Suddenly, those seconds he spent admiring the child's surname on the door seemed like a scene from a comedy movie to him. How ironic it is considering he was just thinking about you moments ago and, like magic, you appeared?
It seemed like you took a few extra seconds to recognize him, and he doesn't judge you for that. Although you have changed and are now an adult woman, with a more mature face and body, he had changed much more since he was a teenager. Back when you two were in school, he was shorter and thinner, and he didn't have any of the scars on his face.
But it wasn't just that which changed in him. You stared in complete shock at how different the demeanor of the guy you were in love with was. He was more serious, more intimidating, very different from his brother, Thomas, whom you had seen years ago, just a few days before he was brutally murdered along with his wife and child.
Your legs went weak, and your eyes burned with tears threatening to overflow. You wanted so desperately to say something, but nothing could come out of your mouth. Was this real, after all? You withdrew your hand from the doorknob, not realizing you had been gripping it tightly until now, and sat in the nearest chair to avoid collapsing to the ground.
Your blood pressure had surely dropped, as you were sweating cold and seeing black spots. What were the chances, after so many years and after everything you had been through, of finally finding him just when you weren't even trying anymore?
Your memories since you found out you were pregnant began to flood back. You vividly remember your father's reaction when he found out you were having a baby; what he said when found out that the neighbor's son, Simon, was the father of the child; how you struggled to escape him after he took you away to another state, to cover up the shame of having a "prostitute" as a daughter.
You never managed to tell Simon, and when you returned to that town, the town where you two met, he was no longer there. You didn't have a penny in your pocket and only survived that week because of Tommy's help. He gave you a bed to sleep in, food, and clothes, both for you and his nephew. You remembered the perplexed expression he had when analyzed Lucas's appearance, it was impossible to deny that he was a Riley.
It was because of him that you found out Simon was in the army and that he hadn't come home in months.
You never managed to thank him properly. Just two days after showing up there, Tommy handed you half of the money he had in a bank deposit. He told you that a good part of that money belonged to Simon, and therefore, it belonged to your son too. You rented a hotel room so as not to continue bothering his wife, especially since she now had to cook and clean for five people.
You left for the hotel with the promise to reward him someday and continued making visits while anxiously tried to contact his brother on his phone, but Simon never answered. You didn't have a cell phone and couldn't spend the money Tommy gave you so lightly, deciding to prioritize your son's needs.
Several voicemails were recorded, but there was never a response. You felt angry at Simon. You screamed into your pillow, frustrated for not being answered and repeating to yourself how stupid he was. But the possibility that maybe he was dead haunted you. Tommy had told you how complex his work in the army was, that it was more dangerous than usual.
You always feared what you would find when you saw him again. He could have a wife, a beautiful house, and everything you ever wanted to have with him one day but couldn't. He could have children, children who had the opportunity to grow up with him, unlike Lucas. And then when you found out that no, none of that had happened, a kind of happiness flooded your chest, even though nothing in the world guaranteed that he would want anything with you again. The last time you had anything, you two were barely adults, until one day you left without saying anything. You thought he hated you.
That lasted until one time, when you went to Tommy's house, there was nothing there but blood. You still remember how scared you were when you found the broken door and called the police, who surrounded the scene of the violent crime that had just happened. You waited so long, but so long for Simon to show up. What kind of person doesn't attend their own brother's funeral? That's when you decided to forget him and threw away the phone number you had written down.
Some more time later, when Lucas had just turned 7 years old, your life was turning upside down again. It all started with symptoms of a common virus. He had fevers, weakness, and got tired very easily. Then he started losing weight and getting pale. Many pediatricians said it could be anemia or hepatitis, but more symptoms kept emerging. Joint pains came, as did swellings, and after a year of medical investigation, the diagnosis came: leukemia.
You entered a state of denial. Was there something wrong with his diet? Or his lifestyle? It could be genetic, but there were no cases of cancer in your family. Maybe the Rileys had some?
Since that day, your life has never been the same. With each passing month, your son only got worse. You would give all your savings, live on the streets, or even rob a bank if it meant seeing your baby well again. Fortunately, the government offered treatment for free, but some medicines needed to be acquired more urgently than the hospital could provide, and medicines for such treatment were not cheap at all.
The only thing that could cure your boy was the marrow from a compatible donor. You prayed so much that you could save him, but when the tests were done, it was impossible. If no one in the family could donate, it was almost a death sentence. Your last hope was your father. You hoped to never have to see him again, let alone tell him where you had run away to, but now you were no longer the same foolish young girl who depended on his money.
Despite everything, you knew he loved his grandson, and a single phone call was enough to make him come running. In recent years, he had been worried about the two of you, not knowing where you had gone. He never had the courage to admit he was wrong, and apologizing was never his strong point, but he regrets every day what he did. That day he didn't know how to react. He wanted to kill Simon, the brat who got his only daughter pregnant, just as he was afraid you would become a joke in neighborhood for having such a young son. He only managed to think about leaving to avoid a disaster, never asking what you wanted or how you felt.
For the first time, when he saw you so tired and alone, he held his tongue to not say anything that could ruin everything. Instead, he hugged you tightly, and you were so craving someone's company that you curled up in his arms just like when you were a little girl. He was a grumpy and archaic man, someone who made many mistakes, who still makes them, but he still has humanity within him.
Unfortunately, he was not a match either.
You stopped daydreaming, and you didn't realize how bad you were until you saw an adult Simon crouched in front of you, shouting in the hallway for a doctor, but you tried to silence him by grabbing the nails on his rolled-up shirt sleeve, catching his attention. The last thing you want is for the doctors responsible for your son's health to be alarmed, thinking he's worsened. These professionals worked as hard for him as you did. Simon seemed to understand and went to close the door to prevent curious eyes from appearing.
Simon looked at you with sadness, and it crushed your heart. He was afraid you wouldn't be able to breathe properly again; he knew you were desperately begging for air, but couldn't draw it in. He hesitated to touch you, but gave in to the desire and placed both hands on your cheeks. He was incredulous. It was really you, the girl he loved most in his entire life, more than he thought he was capable of loving another woman. Simon had imagined so many times meeting you again, and he had so many doubts.
"Calm down," he repeated in a whisper, locking his eyes onto yours. He knew panic attacks; he had experienced them himself several times. "I know. I know, dear. It's a lot to process."
"You…" your voice tried to come out amidst desperate breaths, while also trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Your hands grabbed both of his wrists, and your thumb smoothed over the skin, feeling his heartbeat. "It's you who…?"
"Yes. Yes, it's me, the donor," he quickly confirmed, even before you could finish the question. "Don't speak. Breathe."
You were managing to calm down and think more rationally. Understanding hit you like a bucket of cold water, and your embrace made the big burly man he had become freeze. The feeling was so strange. Of course, among so many people, the only one who could save your little son would be his own father. The person with whom he shared half of his genes.
"He's yours, Si," your voice sounded like a spell in his ear, the old nickname sending shivers down his spine. Your tone was so gentle that he barely understood the meaning of the phrase. But soon he felt his lips quivering, recounting the events of the past few months and how unbelievable this would sound if he told this story to someone. "I swear he's yours," you repeated as if that made it easier to assimilate.
The content of that letter invaded his mind again and again. He felt horrible.
Simon pulled you closer to him, your bodies almost merging. You were still beautiful, even in your disheveled state, betraying exhaustion. And even after so much time, it was as if nothing had changed between the two of you. He knew there was a small body behind him, sleeping peacefully in the bed, but he didn't dare to look. He could hear the sound of the machines, and then it all came crashing down on his shoulders at once: he had a son with you. By his calculations, the boy should be 9 years old. Wow! He hadn't seen you in over a decade.
"I have so many questions," he confessed with a choked voice, and you don't remember ever seeing him cry before when you were younger.
"I searched for you so much. I called so many times," the last thing you wanted was to make him feel guilty, but hearing that, he felt like he should have kept searching for you too. As soon as you left, he went asking where your father had gone. He worried and tried to find out something, until enlisted in the army, and then all he did from then on was just think about you; never seeking; never trying in any way to find you again because it seemed easier to accept that you had left forever.
You tried to distance yourself, even though you hated it, to look at his face one more time. Simon allowed you to run your fingers over his features until your eyes landed on your son behind him. He knew where your gaze had gone, but he didn't follow it. And of course, you would understand what was happening.
"Look at him," you pleaded with tenderness, but he shook his head while rubbing his eyes, as if they hurt. "You're hurting me doing this, Simon."
The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was rejecting the boy, so he stood up, fighting the weakness in his legs and slowly approaching the bed. The child's face was turned exactly in his direction, as if anticipating he would be there, but his eyes were closed, and his breathing was peaceful. It was only then that Simon realized how he was hyperventilating until he felt your hand gently pushing him closer.
His heart hammered in his chest, overwhelmed by anxiety and fear, as he watched his pale and still son. Each step was a journey through an ocean of uncertainty, each breath an effort to maintain composure in the face of the storm raging within him.
As he leaned over the fragile and inert body of the boy, a wave of emotions engulfed him. His broken heart cried out to stop the affliction that plagued his son, that beloved being he barely knew.
Tears blurred his vision as he stroked Lucas's hand, so small and vulnerable compared to his, so similar to yours. Each touch was a silent promise to stand by him in every moment, even in the darkest and most painful.
He found himself whispering words of comfort, as if each sentence could ignite a spark of life in his son's dormant soul. He pleaded to the heavens, to the stars, to any higher power that could hear, for a miracle, for a chance to see those childish eyes shine for the first time in his life. He was an identical copy of Simon at that age, and it made him wonder if the color of his irises was also the same, the same shade of brown. A sudden curiosity arose: what was his voice like? Would it sound like yours, so gentle and reassuring, or could it somehow sound like his?
There, in that moment, time seemed to freeze, the whole world disappearing. It was as if he were dreaming. There was no way all of this could be true, someone must be playing a prank on him. He wanted to look at your face again, to smell you while he ran his hands through your hair to make sure it was really you, flesh and blood. "He's going to be okay," he poured out the words, even though he knew the danger in promising that, and you dove into them, knowing you didn't have to face everything alone anymore.
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rebelfell · 3 months
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Straight from the tortured Eddie department...
18+ MDNI 3.9k
older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson
cont'd from here, index here
Not a proper “part” of the story, more like an interlude of bits and pieces of Eddie's side. I'm also not liable for any of this — @bettyfrommars made me do it. cw: binge drinking
Eddie never had a real girlfriend.
He’d had plenty of imaginary ones—tieflings or elf maidens or dryads that made their way into his campaigns after floating around in his head for a few days. He put himself to sleep imagining he was rescuing them, adventuring with them, defending their honor. All that hero shit.
But as for real life, he’s never had anything…consistent.
There was that thing with Chrissy Cunningham his third and final senior year when he got to act on his middle school crush for a grand total of a month and a half before she took off for Notre Dame. He decided that barely counted, though. Especially after hearing she was dating girls now.
Other than that, his rap sheet detailed little more than a string of messy and hasty hook-ups with people who wanted to “get with the freak” just to say that they had, or randoms at the Hideout who would fuck anyone as long as they played guitar.
He’d thought a lot about it, though. For years, he had to watch people at school getting so totally, nauseatingly wrapped up in one another they could barely see past their own noses. 
And it made him want to vomit almost as much as it made him burn with jealousy.
After he was done mock-retching with his friends, he secretly wondered to himself what it might be like to have someone like that in his life. Someone whose smile he looked forward to every morning. Someone whose hand would reach out for his in a crowded hall. Someone who was always as happy to see him as he was to see them.
Most days the possibility seemed too fantastical to even entertain, but Eddie never had much luck when it came to resisting impossibilities.
Things changed a little after he graduated, but only in terms of quantity. 
His community college was only one town over from Hawkins, but it was like a different world. No one there knew the Munson name or the baggage that came along with it. No one had been cheated or scammed or lied to by his father. No one held Eddie liable for sins he didn’t commit.
Girls started going for him because they liked him, not because they wanted to get something out of him. Still, it had never breached that casual containment. Just about everyone was planning on eventually transferring to a “real” school, and they weren’t looking for anything serious.
Neither was he, truth be told. He was just having fun—learning what he liked, what they liked, what he could do to make them like it more.
To like him more.
He quickly garnered a reputation for his giving nature, and for the first time in his life he didn’t mind it so much that people were jumping to conclusions about him based on hearsay.
It gave him hope, tiny as the spark of it was. He thought someone, somewhere, someday, might want something more with him—something more formal. Something beyond drunk make-outs at parties, or too-quick dates that were little more than pretense for getting him in bed.
Even Steve confessed he was sort of jealous. 
Girls were dying to date Steve, though.
They fell in love if he so much as flipped his artfully disheveled hair in their direction. He came home from school every break lamenting over yet another girl who had gone and caught feelings for him and how he wished he could trade places with Eddie once in a while.
And Eddie just had to sit there with a stupid, cheesing grin on his face like he was living the dream. All the while feeling like the biggest fucking fraud in the world.
But then there was you.
Eddie had never felt like this about anyone. And he knew, logically, that you weren’t his girlfriend. How could you be when he had never so much as taken you on a proper date? Or held your hand? Or touched you without first having to glance around to be sure the coast was clear?
But you were still his something—his something that was unlike anything else. 
And, yeah, it had kind of been a joke when it started. Not a joke-joke, just…the kind of shit he always did. Messing around. Shooting shots from half-court he was certain wouldn’t even graze the net. Flirting with you was just…fun in a way it hadn’t been for him in a really long time.
He thought at first he just liked the challenge. Clearly, he irritated you. He could see it in the fiery glares you gave him, in the way your hands would land on your hips, in the way your mouth would press together in a hard line. And it made him all the more determined to make you crack.
Then you and he started talking more, started talking about real stuff, stuff that mattered—and holy shit were you cool.
There was a bite to you, a witty snark that never faltered. You viewed the world through a wry lens, but there was a softness that bled through when you talked about your favorite songs, or a novel you had taught in one of your classes, or a movie you’d seen enough times to quote from memory.
And, god, were you beautiful. Not in a “for your age” way or a “could tell you used to be” way— just in the way that you were. The way your nose scrunched when you smiled, your lips quirking to the side; the way your hips swayed as you danced to records you put on; the way your brow wrinkled when you were deep in concentration and made Eddie wish he could reach out and smooth it down with the pad of his thumb.
Just…everything.
And all he could do was think how fucking out of his league he was. Not that he believed he really had a chance. Because he didn’t…obviously.
Right?
He thought he must have died and gone to heaven the night of that party. He climbed those stairs all but certain he was going to be sent right back down them. But he was more than willing to take that risk, more than ready to debase himself on the off chance you were feeling even a fraction of what he was. To know once and for all that he wasn’t making all of this up in his head.
Because that night on the patio you hadn’t said you didn’t want to do this. Only that you couldn’t. 
And that girl from his Geology lab last semester who laid it on so thick only made it painfully and blatantly obvious to Eddie that he couldn’t settle for something less than anymore. 
He didn’t want to waste any more of his time with anyone who wasn’t you.
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Eddie didn’t go home after you left him in the van.
Wayne wouldn’t be back from the plant for a few more hours and he couldn’t stand the thought of facing the desolate wasteland of his trailer.
That, and it was sorely lacking in alcohol.
Instead, he parked in the narrow alley behind the Hideout. It was way, way past last call—the sun was rising for chrissakes—but Eddie knew where Bev kept the spare key from his bar-back days. 
He didn’t count how many shots he poured for himself, the pools of liquor that splashed on the bar serving as a kind of tally until he passed out on a pillow of folded arms. Hours later, he came to with Gareth shaking him awake calling out his name. He’d found him still slumped over the bar, barely able to hold his head up, about to slide off his stool and onto the sticky floor.
Eddie peered at his friend with bloodshot eyes, vaguely recognizing the blob of floppy and tawny colored curls. “C’mon, man. Time to go,” he said, casting a grateful and apologetic look at Bev, who had been kind enough to call Gareth and not the cops when she came in to do prep and payroll.
He and his girl Annie had to carry him out, one of Eddie’s arms slung over both their shoulders. 
“S’over…she…she…” he slurred, shaking his head as they stumbled out to the gravel parking lot and he squinted into the unbearably bright sun, “I jus’ don’no what I did, I just—”
His drunken babbling only grew more incoherent as he flopped over in the backseat of Gareth’s car, his face smushed into the cushion. Annie looked back at him from the passenger side, folded over on himself as he curled up in a little fetal ball, her brow pinched together with concern.
“Who’s he talking about?” Eddie heard her ask.
Gareth just shrugged, casting his own forlorn look back at his friend before he turned the key.
“I’ve got no idea.”
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“Aren’t you supposed to be camping?”
Eddie smirked back at your cocked brow as you appraised him where he stood on the front steps, a six-pack in one hand and bouquet of flowers in the other. He glided past you inside of the house, swinging around and walking backwards to the kitchen with a wide grin spread across his face.
“I got sick,” he explained, flashing a cartoonish pout. “Steve came to pick me up and I couldn’t even come out of the bathroom. We’re talking major chunkage, babe. I was a hazard.”
Your face crinkled at the visual, but you laughed as Eddie swaggered towards the island. 
In his head, he was still congratulating himself for his stellar performance and patting himself on the back for the added touch of canned peas he’d brought with him into the bathroom to pour in the toilet intermittently during his moaning to really sell the ruse. Theatrical wizard that he was.
The camping trip had been in the works for ages, way before all of…this…had started.
It began mostly as an argument in which Dustin was adamant just because he’d only ever been to computer camp, it didn’t mean he didn’t have any survival skills. The other boys had scoffed and jeered and mocked as they were wont to do, until they finally landed on their solution of going camping the weekend of Will Byers’ birthday.
Eddie and Steve were drafted as supervisors-slash-babysitters, and even though Eddie had actually been looking forward to it, the promise of a weekend alone with you was too enticing.
There were a lot of things Eddie couldn’t do with you—real dates, public displays of affection—but with Steve gone, Eddie could stay in your bed all night. He could wake up to you in the morning and coax you from sleep with his gentle kisses peppered along your jaw until you stretched out your arms and released a deep and satisfied groan he could practically hear already.
“So they left?” you prompted him, eyes bright with fascination. Eddie nodded smugly.
“And wouldn’t you know, as soon as they did…I made a miraculous recovery.”
“Well, isn’t that convenient?”
You took the flowers and brought them to your nose to smell. He’d joke later that he stole them out of the neighbor’s yard so you wouldn’t know how he stood at the farmer’s market all morning picking them out. Asking the owner which ones meant what until he gave up and started going for whatever he thought looked best together.
Whatever he thought looked like you.
The beer bottles clinked as he set them down in favor of getting his hands on you instead. 
For someone who thought he was going away for the weekend, you certainly had dressed like you were going to see him. Long, flowing skirt that skimmed the tops of your bare feet. A slit in it that showed off a daring amount of leg. A tank top with a deep scoop neck that accentuated your chest and made him eager to bury his face in it. A fresh spritz of perfume on your neck.
Eddie took your hand and spun you into him, pressing himself against your back, his arms curling around your waist to keep you pinned there. You sighed at the feeling, tipping your head back to rest it on his shoulder, giggling as he nuzzled the sensitive skin behind your ear.
His hand squeezed the one of yours he was holding while the other ran up your thigh, fingers slid into the slit of your skirt and traced the edge of your leg until he felt you shiver and squirm.
“So…” Eddie hummed. “What do we do now?”
Your sister's room had remained untouched since her departure, but the en suite bathroom was another story. The jacuzzi spa tub was an anniversary present she got herself after John forgot…for the second year in a row.
It was wide and deep enough Eddie could sit up against the back of it with you between his legs, the smell of lavender and clary sage wafting up and swirling in the air as the jets bubbled.
You dribbled soapy water on his arms and ran your hands over them, making his tattoos shine. And he chuckled as you wriggled against him until he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Turn around,” he husked in your ear, his hands on your hips already urging you forward.
Water sloshed and splashed on the floor as you maneuvered yourself around to face him, your legs thrown over his hips, arms slung around his neck as you slid against one another—the head of his cock rutting against your clit until you were whining, mewling, crying out with need for more.
You leaned in close, tips of your noses brushing as you rocked against him, but you don’t kiss him the way he remembers it happening.
He tries to catch your lips, to get them to meet his, but his neck won’t move. None of him will, even as he screams in his head for it to do so.
You chant his name instead, your voice echoing off the gleaming marble and tiles.
“Eddie…Eddie…Eddie…”
“Eddie! Eddie! EDDIE!”
The hard thwap of a pillow on the back of his head drags Eddie fully out of his dream. Warm, frothy water turned back into his dingy, stained sheets and your body morphed into the pillows his arms and legs were curled around as tight as he could. He lifted his head, still pounding and beer-logged, and blinked until the blurry shape looming over him turned into Steve.
“Whad’youwant?” Eddie grumbled.
“It’s like two o’clock,” Steve said. Not quite condemning, but certainly not lacking in concern.
Eddie shrugged, reaching for his nightstand and the graveyard of beers there. He started lifting them one at a time until he found one with some weight to it and brought it to his lips. It was stale and warm on his tongue and he grimaced as he drank, but he tried to drain it all the same.
“Dude!” Steve’s eyes widened and he snatched it from his hand. “Stop!” 
“What?” Eddie barked, glaring up at his friend.
Steve slammed the can down, making the other empty ones rattle and fall to the floor. “Seriously, what is going on? You’re freaking me out here.”
“S’nothing,” Eddie muttered, dragging his sheets back up over his head. They smelled like the malt and hops seeping out of his skin and it didn’t take long for the ripeness of his B.O. to permeate the little pocket of air around him. He couldn’t even remember the last time he showered.
The mattress sagged extra as Steve sank down to perch on the edge of it. He stared at the lump under the sheets and his voice tightened nervously as he spoke to it.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “We’re just worried is all, and we want to help. Wayne, Dustin, the band…all of us.”
Not all of you, Eddie thinks.
And there’s a part of him—a spiteful, bitter, angry part—that almost wants to tell Steve everything. He almost wants to drop the bomb once and for all and make you clean up the mess.
But he knows he can’t. 
Because the thing he hates the most of all, is knowing how right you were.
Eddie had talked a big game about telling Steve, explaining it to him, but there wasn’t much point when it was never going to go anywhere. And it was foolish of him to believe it ever could.
Because what exactly was he supposed to do? Run off to some ivy-covered university? Tag along at cocktail parties and mixers with the rest of the faculty and have them whisper behind your back about if you were together or if he was your son?
Or worse yet, starting rumors about you sleeping with a student? No fucking way.
He got it now. You didn’t have any choice but to end it once Eddie had gone and spewed all his feelings all over you. And had he known what would happen, he might not have gone through with it. But he also knew he would have ended up in the exact same place, regardless.
He was just so sick and tired of not saying it. Of acting like he didn’t feel it. 
Because it was the first time he’d felt so sure someone would say it back.
Eddie doesn’t answer Steve. He just stays under the sheets until he finally leaves. Breathing in his own breath, wishing he could slip back into his dream to relive the part where he climbed out of the tub and took you straight to bed. And you had tumbled into it with him where you rode him until your muscles were limp and the room had filled with the golden haze of fading sunlight.
He was pretty sure that was the weekend it had happened. He couldn’t say it yet. Couldn’t so much as acknowledge it, or admit it was something he even wanted to say.
But it was there.
It was that feeling in his chest, that warmth and fullness he’d been chasing his entire life. 
He finally felt whole.
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As usual, Steve assigned himself to babysitting duty. He started showing up every morning to bang on Eddie’s door and make sure he made it to work. And on his off days, he dragged Eddie into Family Video and made him participate in he and Robin’s bemoaning of their sordid affairs.
And despite everything, Eddie hangs on their every word. Not sure which was worse—waiting for Steve to mention home (and by extension, you) or living in constant fear of him doing so.
But it’s not until the day Steve forgets his lunch that Eddie faces the worst possible scenario.
“Alright, great. Thank you,” Steve says in the receiver, voice strained despite the relief he feels.
He hangs up the phone and pushes his hands into his messy hair, eyes closing as he massages his temples with his thumbs in an attempt to stave off his hangry episode.
“Mommy bringing you some num-nums?” Eddie teases. Steve just sighs.
“Nah, my aunt is coming.”
A loud siren sounds in the movie Steve is playing, but it’s not nearly as loud as the one going off in Eddie’s brain. He jerks his head up, his eyes wide and alarmed. If you left Steve’s house right when he hung up the phone, Eddie had maybe fifteen minutes before you would be here.
His feet are frozen in place, glued to the wildly patterned carpet under them, his body being torn between fight and flight. He could just leave. That was probably the smartest decision. He could run right out of here, making up some excuse about forgetting that he needed to be somewhere.
He could leave. And yet it was impossible to will his legs to move so he could do so.
The feeling is overwhelming, almost nauseating—a horrendous combination of being desperate for something to happen and yet totally dreading the possibility. Because as much as he wanted to see you, as much as he’d been hoping to run into you in town or to catch a fleeting glimpse of you, the reality of it was terrifying. Because him seeing you meant you would see him like this.
Ruined. Destroyed. Pathetic.
He was looking better than he had the past few weeks, having rediscovered bathing and some color coming back to his cheeks.
So that was something.
But he’d still not been sleeping great. Staying up all night hunched over his composition notebook filling it with scribblings of lyrics so overwrought and dramatic he could hardly imagine actually showing them to the band.
Shit, they’d probably laugh him out of Gareth’s garage if he did.
It wasn’t enough to look okay, though. Even if he looked perfect, even if he had the sun shining directly out of his asshole, it wouldn’t be enough. He needed to look like he hadn’t so much as thought about you in weeks. Like he hadn’t lain in his bed for days looking for your face in the stains on his ceiling. Like he hadn’t written the start of twenty-some letters only to wind up scratching through the words until the blacked out paper shredded beneath the ballpoint.
Then like an answer from the heavens, or more likely somewhere significantly further south, the bell over the front door jingled and Krista Washington walked inside.
Eddie remembered her from Hawkins High. She’d always been kinda shy and quiet, barely brave enough to buy a measly joint off Eddie now and again. But once she graduated and got out from under the thumb of her snobby cheerleading captain, she had come into her own a bit more.
And her eyes still glittered with that same old fascination when they fell on Eddie. 
Eddie didn’t think. He didn’t debate. He didn’t take a second to consider how colossally stupid of an idea this was—he just walked straight up to her and he poured every ounce of Munson charm he had to his name into getting her to follow him outside to talk by his van.
It wasn’t until he heard your car, your brakes screeching because he never got the chance to change out the pads like he’s meant to do, that he realized what a piece of shit this move made him.
While Krista, bless her heart, could have won an Oscar for a part she didn’t know she’d been cast in. Staring up at him with fluttering lashes and parted lips, that look in her eye like, 
“C’mon, genius. This is where you kiss me.”
And he could do it. Eddie saw some movement inside and he was pretty sure you were headed for the door. He might be able to time it just so that you step outside the moment Eddie’s lips touch the shiny, sticky peach gloss on Krista’s mouth.
He could do it…but he doesn’t. 
He knows he never would have.
Instead, he tucks his chin down into his chest and his hands drop from their spot on her waist. His face is riddled with regret, but Krista is hardly discouraged.
“Come on,” she says, taking his hand in hers and tugging on it. “Let’s go pick out the movie we’re gonna watch later.”
He lets her pull him along with her to the door, seeing in slow motion that you and her are going to run into one another. He watches silently as you nearly collide, never taking his eyes off you as Krista drifts away from blocking his view of you. And it’s killing him to do it, but he shuffles to the side so you can pass. Leaving only just enough space so he can catch one last whiff of you.
And was it so crazy for him to think (hope) you look half as miserable as he feels?
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shout out to the song that I cried too many times to when I was 26 and a dumb boy made me realize I can't regulate my emotions for shit. it wasn't shocking news, but still.
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blairxbear · 2 months
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Stranger Things Preferences
Their Pet Name for you.
(Featuring: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Jonathan Byers, Dmitri Antonov, Jim Hopper, Alexei, Murray Bauman, Robin Buckley, Argyle, Henry/001)
Warnings: Mentions of sex. This blog is 18+ Minors do not interact.
A/N: My first preference! There will be quite a few of these across quite a few fandoms so if you'd like to be tagged in future preferences or future stranger things posts please let me know in the comments! :) Also any Russian is taken straight from google translate so pre-apologies if I have butchered it! Enjoy!
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Steve Harrington
Steve keeps his pet names quite generic, baby, babe, sweetheart. It's not so much the names he uses but how he says them. Most of the time he's most comfortable using the shortened version of your name or nickname he has for you, but the amount of affection he would put into it would make you melt. If he's being especially flirtatious you'd even occasionally get doll. He doesn't miss the effect it has on you when he calls you that.
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Eddie Munson
Eddie is as theatrical with his pet names as he is with anything else in life. He loves to call you princess, especially during Hellfire meetings when he can incorporate you into his campaign. I think Eddie would switch between a few pet names to try to keep it interesting, baby, sunshine, sweetheart. It doesn't matter what he calls you it never fails to give you butterflies. Let's not pretend that if you two are hanging out in his trailer while you joke around and play air guitar together that he doesn't call you his little Rockstar.
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Billy Hargrove
Billy's pet names for you depend on two things; his mood, and who you are around. In public you're only getting the less heartfelt pet names, he refers to you as his girl a lot in front of other people. Not only does he love the small smile it brings to your face but it also feeds into his possessive side, knowing that everyone knows you are his. When you two are alone and have been together for a while, Billy finally shoes a softer side of himself. He will compliment you a lot and attach all sort of pet names to those compliments, baby, sugar, sweet thing, still loving to resort to calling you his girl. You're mad at him and he's trying to make it up to you? Get ready for him to bargain his way back into your arms, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers in your ear, "Come on sweetheart, you know you can't stay mad at me."
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Jonathan Byers
This soft, shy, adorable baby will probably be hesitant to use pet names for a long time. I honestly doubt you would hear them until you two begin to get intimate and he's too lost in the moment to think about what he's saying. He's pussy drunk and rambling into your neck, pet names would all be soft and sweet while he's chasing his high, beautiful and sweetheart would be at the top of his list. Getting high in his room? This sweet man would be telling you how you're his sunshine, rambling on in his delirium about how you light up his life.
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Dmitri Antonov
While this man's English is very good, he still prefers to use pet names in Russian. There's something about the way he looks at you with his intense gaze as he slips back into his native tongue that just turns you into an absolute puddle. His favourites include котенок (kitten) and моя любовь (my love). The thought of this man holding you while you curl up in bed for the night, arms wrapped around you while he whispers endearing words in Russian into your ear is enough to bring butterflies to your stomach.
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Jim Hopper
Let's not pretend like for a goooooooood while this man affectionately refers to you as kid even if you are barely a few years younger than him. He's a tough shell of a man that will refuse to open up or show his feelings for a long time, but when he does you realise its worth the wait. He doesn't throw around pet names and words of endearment a lot as he prefers to save them for moments when he feels it's right. When it's just the two of you and you're sharing a soft moment, sometimes referring to you as darling in his softer moments. Occasionally you might even get a cheeky baby.
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Alexei
Another Russian baby, this adorable man will always call you pet names in Russian, it doesn't matter how much his English has improved. It just means more to him coming from his native tongue. His regular go to include голубь (Dove) and милый (Darling). Although, Murray taught him how Americans us Pumpkin as a term of endearment as a way to screw with you both and now it's one of Alexei's favourite things to call you. Jokes on Murray because seeing Alexei's face light up as he reaches for you and calls you pumpkin is enough to fall even more in love with him.
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Murray Bauman
I feel like Murray cannot find it in himself to call you soft names to start off with. He's still confused by the fact that you even want to be with him, he's not going to possibly embarrass himself further using some pet names that might cross some invisible line he's set up for himself. He refers to as lady a lot, or another unique name that fits your looks of personality. Once this man is comfortable and more secure in your relationship I think the names would still stay light and not too sensitive. You would definitely get honey a lot, I don't think Murray would be able to resist yelling through the house when he gets home, "Honey, I'm home!"
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Robin Buckley
Robin would also keep her pet names generic just like her bestie Steve, but less out of originality and more just to play it safe. Robin would have some insecurities going into a relationship after all the careful steps she took just to get to where you two are now. She is hesitant at first to say the wrong thing so she sticks to a lot of sweetheart and babe. One day you were spending time together and she slipped up and called you buttercup. She panicked for a second worrying what you would think of the nickname, but seeing your smile wiped all of those worries away and it became one of her favourite pet names so far.
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Argyle
Okay so we all know this cutie is not going to call you any conventional pet names unless he's sober which is not very often. You're going to get a lot of my dude and bro but he does really mean it affectionately with you. Other than that you're definitely going to get a lot of made up names that mean absolutely nothing but to him they mean a lot; wicked lady, cream puff, anything. He would totally refer to you as "my queen" when he lets you into the van which he refers to as your chariot. Your favourite pet name would be the time he said, "My pretty girl is gonna get all the pizza she wants" he couldn't understand your reaction as you couldn't think of what to say next after hearing Argyle call you his pretty girl.
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Henry/001
I whole heartedly believe this man would refer to you as pet. He does mean it endearingly but he also can't resist how you scrunch your nose up at hearing the teasing term. He also uses a lot of "My little..." whether it be bird, bunny, dove. He constantly feels the need to protect you and he shows that in his terms of endearment by referring to you as small and innocent. I know this man would call you his good girl, and you will have to pry that thought out of my cold dead hands.
A/N: Hope you guys like this! Reminder that if you want to be tagged in future Stranger things posts or other preferences to let me know in the comments and ill create a tags list :)
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aww-canon-no · 1 year
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Steddie Fic- 9 Stops
9 Stops
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Rated: Everyone (but with kissing)
Deaf Eddie, newly deaf Steve, meet cute, modern fic, no upside down
Summary:  And holy shit this might be his chance because…Yeah.  Yep.
Yes.
Steve is kissing him.  It’s warm and better than he imagined, and it’s really, really scary because Eddie has never liked someone so much in his entire life and God, if he wakes up and this is a dream he’s going to fucking lose it.
Note: You have all been so nice?  Im crying?  This fandom is so soft.  Posting one more Tumblr one-shot tonight.  This time with kissing.I gave you Deaf Steve so now have Deaf Eddie/deaf Steve (big D little d, not an innuendo)
Word Count: 2400
*** 
The train is quiet.  In a literal sort of way, everything is quiet for Eddie Munson who was born deaf and remained deaf despite all the praying and laying hands and shit that adults were always doing at his parents’ church when he was little.
That was before CPS got involved and Wayne stepped in and made things better.
But in a more metaphorical way, the train is quiet because—what most people don’t understand—the Deaf community is loud.  And he means that in every way it’s possible to mean that.  Everything is turned up to max volume so they can feel it.  When they get together it’s big gestures and faces all twisted up in expression and wagging tongues and stomping feet and…it’s a lot.
It ain’t your momma’s sweet little interpreter at Sunday Service kind of deaf.
He doesn’t regret the job working at the center, but he takes the train home instead of carpooling with the other guys because it’s going to get loud again when he meets up with the rest of Corroded Coffin for band practice.  They met at school when Eddie was finally allowed to leave the nonsense of mainstream education he couldn’t actually understand behind him.
Garret wanted to call the band something like Deaf Devils which Eddie flat out refused because he will not—under pain of death or torture—ever be obvious or predictable.
Also why he takes the train.
At least, why he used to.
Now he takes the train because he takes the train.  The Hair, Eddie’s been calling him.  It’s a sign name that Steve Harrington doesn’t actually know about since he doesn’t interact with Eddie.  Eddie doesn’t do intake or adult shit.  He mostly works with newly deafened teens, or teens that have come from hearing homes and are finally allowed to get more involved in the Deaf community.
They call it socializing but it ’s mostly a way for Eddie to be able to run the most badass DnD campaigns known to man and get paid for it.  It’s maybe the sweetest job he’s ever had and there’s no chance in hell he’s ever giving it up.
But he noticed Steve when he showed up—looking like a scared, lost little lamb the way they all do when their world has been flipped upside down.  And Eddie does feel sympathy for him.  Steve looks like the kind of guy Eddie hate. The kind of jock that liked to push Eddie into trash cans and lockers because—surprising absolutely no one—Deaf school had preppy jock assholes too.
So Eddie mostly avoids Steve and his polo shirts and his annoyingly glorious hair for a really long time.  And he definitely doesn’t get soft on the inside whenever he sees the look of frustration on Steve’s face when he comes out of the ASL level one class.
Eddie remembers it pretty well, but not well enough to relate.  He also never lost a sense so he’s not quite sure what Steve’s going through.  
But he’s not a monster.  He feels.
He feels too much sometimes.
He kind of wants to tell Steve that it gets not just a little better, but so fucking much better.  That it’s a big deal that Steve came to the center because most people his age just get some metal and magnets slapped inside their skulls and hope for the best and move on without realizing they don’t actually have to choose between one or the other.
They don’t have to lose one to gain.
Or something poetic like that.
He needs to write that down.  It sounds like it could be a pretty decent song lyric.
Anyway, Eddie used to take the two o’clock train, but now he pushed it to three because that’s when Steve shows up at the station with his head down and his hearing aids off and his fingers all twisting in his lap like he’s trying to quietly practice everything he learned that day.  Eddie notices the shaking, and he notices the dark bags under Steve’s eyes.
Steve doesn’t notice him though.  He’s not quite there yet.  At that place where sight replaces sound naturally, and he starts noticing everything around him without waiting to hear it.  
He can’t help but keep his eyes on Steve, even squashed between two dudes—one of whom is eating legit an actual to-go box full of fettuccini alfredo.
And of course that happens to be the moment Steve finally looks up and sees him.  After six weeks, Steve finally notices.
His lips twitch.  Eddie braces himself because he expects Steve to be maybe angry.  It’s obvious Steve recognizes him.
Then Steve raises a hand—a small and subtle thing.  ‘Hi.’
Eddie snorts.  ‘Hi.’
Steve goes on a face journey which Eddie reads like one of his favorite novels and in spite of himself, he smiles wider.
‘You think this guy would freak out of I took a bite of his food?’ Eddie chances.
There’s no way in hell Steve’s that far along in his lessons, but he watches as Steve’s lips curve around a couple of the words he knows.
‘Don’t understand.  Sorry,’ Steve finally signs, back—still subtle like he doesn’t want to be noticed.  Then he yawns, the kind that Eddie knows probably cracks his jaw.
He stands up without realizing it and moves across to sit beside his not-friend.  He sticks out his fist and they knock knuckles—a fairly safe greeting.
Steve sighs.  ‘Sorry,’ he signs again.
‘I know,’ Eddie tells him.  ‘Give it time.’
Steve must have learned that one from his teacher saying it over and over to his students.  It’s not your average ASL class.  It’s not hearing people trying to get a credit, or start a new job or something.  It’s all people in Steve’s shoes trying to learn how to communicate again without making their brain feel like it’s full of static electricity.
‘You’re tired,’ Eddie signs.
Steve nods, then remembers to respond with a fist.  ‘Yes’
Eddie laughs and shakes his head.  ‘What’s your stop?’  He signs it slowly and fingerspells some so Steve will understand.  Train-STATION, yours, which?
Steve licks his lips, then lifts a hand, pinky touching his thumb.  ‘Sixth AVE.’
Eddie nods decidedly, then shuffles so close their thighs touch.  Steve startles, but Eddie just reaches over and tugs Steve’s head until it falls against him.  ‘Sleep,’ he tells him.  They have nineteen stops to go—and that’s nine past Eddie’s.  But he’s done worse things than ride the train all evening.
Steve stiffens like he’s going to put up a fight for a second, and then his body relaxes.  He’s asleep before stop four.  He’s snoring so loud that Eddie can feel it rumbling against his side by stop seven.
By stop sixteen Eddie hates himself for what he has to do.
At stop eighteen he gently prods Steve who wakes up with a jolt and stares around like he doesn’t know where he is.  Their gazes lock, then his shoulders sag.
‘Thank you,’ he signs.  His fingers are nice.  Lovely, in fact, the way they tip from his chin.  Watching him blossom into the language will be a real treat.
If Eddie’s invited in.
***
So.
Train naps become a thing.
Eddie meets him at the entrance to the station, and Steve tells him one or two facts about his day with his growing vocabulary—and he probably picks up some colorful commentary and slang—and some of Eddie’s home-grown home-signs which is alright by him.  Just…hopefully he doesn’t get yelled at in class for using them.
Because then Eddie will get yelled at later. Scott Clarke will definitely know where they came from.  But it’s kind of hard to care because Steve scrunches up his face when he’s processing something new.
And Eddie’s halfway in love and he’s not interested at all in pumping the brakes, even if Steve seems pretty goddamn straight and will only break Eddie’s heart in the end.
***
It’s twelve weeks now and Steve’s starting to look better.  A little more rested.
It’s a Tuesday the first time Steve doesn’t fall asleep, but he also doesn’t put space between them, either.  He stares at his hands for a while, then he looks up at Eddie.
‘I,’ he starts.  ‘Went deaf overnight.’
That…’sss a surprise.  That’s not super common to just randomly go deaf.  At least, not in someone as young as Steve who can’t be more than twenty-five.  Not that Eddie hasn’t seen stranger things, but still.
He can tell Steve’s not done with his story.
‘Dr told me I had three tumors and I would go deaf eventually,’ he signs it Deaf-future-later like he’s not sure which one is right and Eddie just lets him have it.  His brain’s interpreting it juuuust fine.  ‘I was sad, but okay.’
Eddie nods.  That-that.
Steve smiles and bites his lip before letting it go and it’s all spit-slick and shiny and Eddie wants to taste it so badly.  ‘I fell,’ he signs.
Eddie clarifies that he means he physically fell.
Steve touches the back of his head.  ‘Nineteen STITCHES.  CONCUSSION.’
Eddie winces.  He’s has his fair share of head injuries from mosh pits and other stupid shit, but those were injuries he all-but chose to have.  Steve looks devastated.
‘Dizzy,’ he signs.  ‘VERTIGO.’
Eddie shows him the sign for that and Steve copies it.
‘I couldn’t walk.  Tried everything.  Fail.’
Eddie winces again.  ‘Sorry.’
Steve shrugs.  ‘They removed tumors.  Hearing was gone.’
Eddie tries to think about what life might be like if he just woke up one day and lost a sense.  And okay it would be different since he was already Deaf but he still gets it.  As best as he can, anyway.
He sighs and turns, cupping Steve’s cheek.  Steve leans into the touch like he’s starved for it, and God knows Eddie is, so he’s not in a hurry to pull back.  He grazes his thumb under Steve’s eye.  ‘Sleeping better?’
Steve laughs.  Eddie has some—what the doctors call residual hearing which seems a little ridiculous since Eddie was born this way, but whatever.  It’s enough to hear—just barely—the rumble of Steve’s laugh over the faint noise of the train.  Mostly he feels it against his hand though.
‘Yeah.  Better,’ he repeats.
Eddie sighs, but before he can mourn the loss of their routine, Steve shuffles closer and lays his head down.  Eddie knows he doesn’t sleep, but this is good too.
***
For the first time in six months, Eddie doesn’t come to his ASL class.  And it’s not like Eddie’s waiting…
Which is a lie.  He’s definitely waiting.
The kids give him epic and endless shit for being distracted—to the point he gives up and lets Mike start his own campaign while he paces the room and feels all kind of itchy all over and he hates it.  He hates it so much.
The kids all go home eventually and Eddie gets on the train at three and he stares at the empty seat that Steve should be in and it feels like there’s a sudden canyon or maybe a dark hole that leads into some alternate dimension that stole these moments away from him.
His stop comes and he almost doesn’t get off until he remembers he doesn’t need to wait nine stops past, and nine stops back.  His knees are kind of shaky as he brushes past people and feels the silence kind of profoundly for the first time in maybe ever.
And then the world rearranges.
Steve’s there, leaning against the wall near the stairs with his arms crossed and a pissed off look on his face that’s both terrifying and really, really beautiful.  Eddie feels like he might choke on his own tongue as he stumbles to a halt.
‘Nine.’
Eddie stares at Steve’s hand thinking maybe he’s got the wrong sign.
Then he does it again.  ‘Nine.’
Eddie looks behind him, then at Steve again.
‘Your stop is before mine.’
Eddie flushes.  Hard.  So hard he gets a little dizzy.  ‘Yes.’
Steve swallows hard.  ‘Why?’
Eddie flops his arms and his whole body kind of moves with it, and he wants to pace and be loud with his body but they’re in public.  Like, hearing public.  Someone will definitely call the cops and tell them he’s on drugs, especially since he tends to vocalize a little loudly when he’s uncomfortable and it unsettles hearing people’s delicate little ears.
He takes a breath.  ‘You were tired.’
Steve blinks at him kind of incredulously.  ‘I was tired,’ he repeats.  His face doesn’t give Eddie any indication that it’s a question but…
Maybe it is?
‘You were tired,’ he repeats.
Steve pushes away from the wall.  Stalks a step closer.  Then suddenly his hand is on Eddie’s cheek bare and warm and soft, and he mirrors that gesture, swiping a thumb under Eddie’s eye.  ‘Where is your shoulder?’
‘My—’ Eddie starts.  Stops.  His hand hovers in the air.  His shoulder.  His own Eddie?  ‘I don’t need one.’
‘Bullshit,’ Steve shoots back at him.  It’s an older, more archaic sign he definitely got from Scott, but it hits the mark.
Eddie sighs and shrugs again.  ‘You were tired,’ he just repeats.  He needs Steve to get it.
And oh.  Maybe he does, because he’s pushing in closer again and his hand has fallen to the back of Eddie’s neck and there’s absolutely no signing space between them now.  Steve’s lips move like maybe he’s talking to himself—probably a habit he’ll never totally lose, but Eddie likes it.  He likes the way Steve’s lips dance and he wants to feel them.
And holy shit this might be his chance because…
Yeah.  Yep.
Yes.
Steve is kissing him.  It’s warm and better than he imagined, and it’s really, really scary because Eddie has never liked someone so much in his entire life and God, if he wakes up and this is a dream he’s going to fucking lose it.
But when it ends, Steve is still warm, and still perfect, and still touching him.
‘Nine stops,’ Steve manages to sign.
Eddie laughs.  ‘Eighteen, if you count the ones on the way back.’
He feels Steve’s groan as he rolls his eyes, then he grins as Steve surges back in to kiss him.
Kiss him.
Kiss him.
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starshinegazer · 3 months
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Shoutout Sunday
I just wanted to collect some of the most memorable Astarion fanfics I've read so far and to give them and their authors a big ol' shoutout. These are some of the fics I strongly suggest others to check out, if you haven't yet.
Also, please feel free to comment and recommend your favorites as well! And, if you know of some of these authors on tumblr, lemme know, so I can add them too :) I'm not too good with words, so I'll be slapping some of the authors own words as descriptions (for now). Oh, and do be mindful of tags etc etc... Here goes, in no particular order:
Pieces Still Stuck In Your Teeth by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "The Vampire Ascendent has crossed a line. Eleven years after making the biggest mistake of her life and losing the man she loved, tiefling wizard (now Archmage) Rosalie decides it’s time to put this Astarion in the ground for good. Hopefully, both her head and her heart are strong enough to see this awful task through to its end."
An Honest Lie by howlsmovinglibrary (@wetcatspellcaster) "Astarion and Rosalie think they understand each other perfectly, but they have each fallen prey to the other’s mask. As they both go forward with their adventure, will either of them dare to be honest?"
A Crooked Touch by eyes_of_the_lamb "If you want to read a story where Astarion is sweet from the start and Tav is here to fix him, this isn't the one. If you want to read about two terribly broken men spending a good long while making each other worse before they make each other better, this might be for you. If you thought the in-game romance was a little too easy and it should have been ten times more painful and difficult to convince Astarion he's worthy of love, this is definitely for you."
Perfect Slaughter by Imagineitdear (@imagineitdearies ) "Tyrus, a low-born drow with aspirations for necromantic wizardry, finds none of the hospitality he expected from his new noble patron, Cazador Szarr. Quickly he loses his life and future, his hopes and dreams—only to find something new to fight for in the unlikely arms of Cazador’s least favorite spawn."
A Novel Experience by meanboss (@meanbossart ) "Initially just an epilogue for my own game campaign with my big meaty dark urge drow, turned whole story which I accidentally deleted and am now reuploading, my bad LOL
Hope you enjoy!"
Carving Through The Dark by skitter "The realm is safe and the story is over.
Wren and Astarion descend into the Underdark in search of a new purpose, and learn a few things along the way. Namely, that healing isn't linear and sometimes love takes the long way round."
Blood In The Weave by gingealish "There is no need to breathe, but I miss it all the same. The suffocating silence, the desperate darkness have encapsulated me for I don’t even know how long; It could have been tendays or years. I’ve long since accepted my punishment, stopped trying in vain to crack the seal of my tomb against the onslaught of panic and hunger. Now I lay here, thinking of the friends I’ve lost, the lover who turned on me, and how to finally get even.
Astarion is the new Big Bad Evil Guy. Spawn Tav is rescued by a familiar face. "
When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by bg_brainrot "You saved Baldur’s Gate almost 300 years ago. You died 150 years ago. On a new life now, you find that memories from your past lead you to a specific silver-haired man. Who was he, and why won't he leave you be? tldr; An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well."
More Than Any Words by mataglap "They have saved the city and possibly the world. All is great and everyone is happy... except Astarion has been banished back into the shadows, and Tav is stuck in an uneven battle with his own oath. He's losing the fight. He knew he would from the moment he fell for Astarion. But he can't lose yet, not before they find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again."
Inexhaustible Oil by homeward_bound "This is the absolute opposite of a redemption fic. A post-canon, fall-from-grace, "I can make you infinitely worse" kind of story, in which there is no simple happy ending. But there's mystery on the way. And dragons. True love, even. So if you're fine with that, come aboard. It's going to be a wild ride."
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coriosbunni · 2 months
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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - sugar rush
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pairing: senator!coriolanus snow x baker!reader warnings: fluff , slight ooc!coriolanus snow, i was listening to laufey so soft coriolanus snow hehehe authors note: so sorry for the late post pls ive been so busy w life </3 summary: prompt is from this request ! i hope i do u justice anon <3
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the smell of the freshly baked goods fills his nose as he enters a beloved bakery in the heart of the capital. coriolanus has made it a habit to come to your bakery after every media engagement for his campaign.
he always bought the rich chocolatey brownie topped with a raspberry either for his grandmaam or for himself—always finding a way to support the beautiful girl who runs the bakery.
he has admired the owner of the baker since the early days of his academy. as snowflakes dance through the air, blanketing the capital in a soft, white layer, your bakery stands as a warm, welcoming haven. coriolanus upon seeing the cozy scene inside, decided to do a pit stop to avoid the strong wrath of the snow storm.
the windows are fogged with condensation, offering glimpses of the cozy interior lit by the gentle glow of pendant lights. the bell rang as he entered the shop. the aroma of freshly baked bread, sweet pastries, and rich coffee mingles with the scent of cinnamon and vanilla, creating an irresistible invitation to coriolanus.
he took a moment to appreciate the comfortable environment of the bakery; candles gleaming, wooden tables and countertops to match the white framed countertops, and baked goods encased in glass.
behind the counter, you stood. your eyes, a warm, inviting shade, locked onto his, and time seemed to slow. your smile was soft and genuine, lighting up your face and radiating a kindness that made his heart skip a beat. it was as if the storm outside had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, serene moment.
ever since then he had locked eyes with you, he couldn't stop thinking about you. the way you light up every time you see him enter your shop. you have memorized his order by now, he was also consistent with his brownie and black coffee.
one late evening, coriolanus decided to help you clean up after the last customer left. it wasn't unusual for him to be the last customer there, you always were grateful for him.
you were putting away coffee cups on the table when you stopped to look at the snowy atmosphere outside your shop.
the lack of noise filled his ears and he stopped cleaning the countertop to look if you were alright, "are you okay darling?" he asked softly. coriolanus often called you pet names and to be honest you didn't mind it at all.
you didn't look back at him and continued admiring the snow gently falling, "you know every time it snows i think of you," you admitted to him.
he walked to you to admire along, "why is that?" he curiously asked as his heart fluttered at your declaration of thinking of him.
"it reminds me of when we first met, i was setting up the sign outside the store when I slipped on a frozen concrete and you caught me. " you reminisced
"you're honestly my knight and shining armor" you joked as you looked up at him, suddenly right beside you. he was already looking at you and you noticed this longing look on his face and it made your heart skip a beat. he was way too gorgeous to be looking at you like that.
all of a sudden you got shy and looked away, "why are you looking at me like that snow" you said flustered. he smiled softly at the change of your attitude
"like what rose?" he places his finger under your chin to make you look at him. the eye contact was different with him this time. he was looking at you with an intense, almost aching desire in his eyes. it tugged at your heart and you couldn't help but look between his lips and his eyes. longing for his lips to connect with yours.
and like he read your mind, he tilted your chin up and leaned in. time seemed to stop as your lips finally met, a kiss that was both gentle and passionate, filled with the unspoken emotions that had been building between you. it was a kiss that spoke of longing, desire, and the sweet relief of finally giving in to what you both wanted.t
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harrywavycurly · 4 months
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Secret Rendezvous Part 18: Mixtape
Masterlist: Here
CW: None
Tag List: @emma-munson @aol19 @tlclick73 @prestinalove @kailey-firefly @fromasgardandback @therealgothamguardianfr @peaches-roses-sins @hiscrimsonangel @furiousladyking @angelina16torres-blog @sofaritsalrightt @josephquinnsfreckles @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @jasminelafleur @ohmeg @comeonatmebruh @missmarch-99 @arthurcerverogf @disassociationdive @123iloveyou456 @perplexing-vex
A/N: I have had this exact moment planned for a very long time and I hope y’all enjoy the chaos also there’s officially only two more updates left for this series✨
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“Hey Eddie!” “Uh hey…Jessica…” “Oh my goodness you got my name right I think I can finally take my name tag off now….have a good lunch tell Chrissy I said hello.” “Yeah…will do..” “Eddie! Hey! Oh is that a new Metallica shirt?” “Uhm hi…Hailey?…uh yeah it-” “Hey Eddie do you know where Stacy is? She’s not here yet and if she’s not eating here today then I’m going to go eat lunch in the cheer gym and work on my stunts.” “Uh hey Taylor…uhm nope I have no clue where she uh is…but Gareth isn’t here yet either so maybe they are just running…late?” “Well I’m gonna go eat in the gym will you let her know if you see her? Hailey you wanna come?” “Sure! See you later Eddie!” “See you…later….” “Someone’s popular.” “Don’t start Chrissy…oh Jessica says hello.” “Thanks…so…how’s it going? I notice someone is missing from the lunch table today…” “yeah I don’t know where she’s at but I also don’t know where Stacy and-” “I’m just saying that’s not a very Henry…thing to do…” “speak of the devil! Where have you two been? Hailey and Taylor went to go eat in the gym because they got tired of waiting for you Stacy.” “Well I was helping someone….decide who just asked her to prom.” “Prom? Someone…uhm asked…you to…prom?” “Does that shock you Munson? That someone would ask me to prom?” “No…not at all…uhm why do…you need help figuring out who…it was?” “Because they just left me a mixtape and that’s it…and the song titles on the back spell out prom.” “That’s so cute! Was it Henry?” “Henry? You still talk to Henry?” “And if I do? It’s not like it’s any of your business who I’m friends with.” “Uhh Stacy let’s go join the girls in the gym yeah? I’m sure Hailey needs someone to spot her for some stunts.” “Yeah…good idea…you two uh…have a good…lunch.” “What’s your deal Eddie? Why do you look like someone just told you the Easter bunny isn’t real?” “Can we just start over? Please? Just…I’m sorry.” “For?” “Everything…you name it I’m sorry for it okay? I was an asshole to you and I shouldn’t have been and…I’m….just sorry.” “Oh…well…okay.” “Okay?” “Yeah…okay…you’re sorry and that’s a big step for you so I’m glad you finally took it.” “You…don’t forgive me?” “Not yet…” “okay that’s…fine…can we..at least be friends?” “Sure…we can be friends.” “So…you really think this mixtape was Henry?” “I mean he’s the only option so..yeah.” “Have you listened to it yet?” “No? I..don’t know if I have to since the back pretty much said everything.” “Oh…I mean you should at least listen to it…just once….” “Maybe I will on my way home.” “Are you going to say yes?” “I…don’t know…I have to think about it.” “What if it wasn’t Henry who gave you the mixtape?” “Who else would-” “Hey…where’s Stacy?” “Gare Bear! She’s in the cheer gym.” “Great thanks….” “You can’t go in there….” “Why not? My girlfriend is in there?” “Uh it’s the cheer gym…you’re not a cheerleader…” “oh…right…well looks like you two are stuck having lunch with me then.” “Yay us…” “I know you’re being sarcastic Eddie but I don’t really care.” “I gotta go…” “where?” “I just…have somewhere to be.” “He’s in a mood…what did I miss?” “Henry asked me to prom…” “oh…wait you still talk to Henry?” “No…that’s the weird thing…and he asked me with a mixtape…” “a..mixtape?….yeah…that’s…totally weird…I gotta go.” “What? You too?” “Sorry I gotta find Eddie and run a campaign idea off him! See you later!” “Okay…bye!”
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goodlucktai · 22 days
Note
7 for Leosagi?? 🥺
dialogue prompts
7. “No. No, stop. Stop talking like that. You’re gonna be fine.”
i'm so sorry in advance. here's a song rec ❤️‍🩹
x
It’s not like Usagi expected to get a happy ending out of the apocalypse. It’s not like a happy ending could exist anymore—that idea went up in smoke the day Raphael died and took a part of every single person who loved him right along with him. 
Leo hasn’t been Leo since then, not really. That magnetic person Usagi first met in Run of the Mill, with brilliant gold eyes and the loudest laugh in the room, is made up of smaller parts, and those parts run around in color-coded bandanas. 
Losing Donatello was devastating for all of them, and in some ways was the final nail in the coffin that no one wanted to admit they had already dug a grave for in their minds. 
Oh, Usagi realized that night, in between holding Leo and praying he’d scream or cry or do anything other than stare vacantly at the wall, I’m never getting him back again, am I?
That shining boy Usagi fell in love with was long gone by then. 
But the man left behind still woke up in the morning and went to work, and his unyielding heart still beat for them, and his brand-new way of smiling with half the life he used to have was becoming more familiar every day.  
Usagi knew that he and April were two of Leo’s touchstones, important and integral and necessary. He also knew that Michelangelo and Casey Jr. were the real miracle workers. 
Mission room, quick, Mikey had sent one day with ninpo rather than a communicator, more of a feeling that gave the impression of words than an actual message. But Usagi had been an unofficial adoptee of the Hamato clan long enough that the turtles’ ninpo had a well-worn little nook inside his soul to rest in, and he was moving before Mikey’s voice had faded. 
April was already in the doorway when he skidded into the hall, and he didn’t have a chance to ask what the matter was before he heard what had to have put that stunned look on her face.
Laughter. 
Leo and his little brother and his little ward were sitting around the table, and what had probably begun as a lesson in strategy had devolved into what sounded like a homebrewed D&D campaign. Mikey was sitting cross-legged on the table, forming little figurines out of light as Casey requested them that became solid as they traded hands. 
It was a pocket of goodness Usagi never would have guessed he would find that day. Mikey looked over his shoulder and beckoned them in with a nod of his head, smile widening to include them. 
“Living up to your name every day, Angelo,” April murmured, hopping up to sit on the edge of the table and bumping her shoulder into his. 
“You guys make it easy,” Mikey said as if his little miracles were unremarkable. 
Usagi circled around the table to sit on Casey’s free side, rewarded with a samurai rabbit figurine and a backstory that sounded a lot like a fictionalized version of the horrifying disaster of a mission of four years ago, when he had led a pack of Krang hounds away from a cluster of survivors and somehow managed not to die for his troubles. Casey’s rendition edited out a lot of his panicked swearing, and made him sound more like a hero than anything. 
Usagi had only told his fiancé the finer details, so this heroic Yojimbo character had to have come from him. It made his heart warm, and he listened to Casey’s earnest, inherited storyteller voice and Leo’s indulgent, leading questions fill the room for long after he should have gone to find some work to do. 
And then the Krang arrived by the hundreds, with their hounds and their parasites, and crashed over the resistance like high tide. Everything fell apart, their forces scattering to survive only to be picked off one by one. Usagi lost sight of his family in the chaos, but then a beacon went up. It attracted attention for miles, and Usagi gritted his teeth and fought like hell to get there first. 
He felt it when Mikey’s ninpo went supernova—an echo inside his heart that felt like loss. That felt like grief. 
No, Usagi thought. Please no. 
He found Leo lying on his plastron in an obscene pool of red, too much red to make sense. There was a portal open behind him—not blue like the ones he used to make, or burnt orange like Mikey’s, this was the color of the sun on those summer afternoons before the sky turned a perpetual pink. Shining so bright it was impossible to look at head-on. 
Usagi barely looked at it for longer than a second before he was crashing to his knees at Leonardo’s side. The turtle’s carapace was a ruin and he was so still and Usagi didn’t realize his mouth was moving on autopilot, a steady stream of his inner no no no no, until Leo made some tiny noise that was sign of life enough to stall Usagi’s impending meltdown. 
“Hey! Hey, sweetheart,” Usagi said, too-fast, leaning over him. The blood was still warm, seeping into the knees of his trousers. That was good, wasn’t it? That it was warm? “Tried to party without me, huh? That’s not how married life works, you know.”
The ghost of a smile touched the corner of Leo’s mouth. Usagi curled a hand against his cheek and touched his thumb to the smile, committing it to memory next to all the others. 
“Sorry I never got to marry you,” Leo mumbled. 
“No. No, stop,” Usagi said. He almost couldn’t hear himself over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. “Stop talking like that. You’re gonna be fine, and you’re gonna marry me. We promised when it was over, we’d—”
“It’s over,” Leo told him, cracking one eye open. The gold of it was so dull. Somewhere in there was the love of Usagi’s life, and he crawled closer, trying to find that spark he followed all the way here. The light that had survived every moment of darkness until now. 
Then that eye crinkled, and Leo’s smile deepened beneath Usagi’s thumb, and he said, “It’s my turn to take a selfish.”
There he was. The laugh that came spilling out of Usagi was half-hysterical. The air smelled like smoke and metal and the pungent tang of the Technodromes and Leo was quoting a TV show they binged together as teenagers a lifetime ago.  
“Anything,” Usagi said. 
“Behind you,” Leo managed, blood on his teeth. “The door. Mikey made it.” 
“The time gateway?” Usagi asked. They had discussed it once, years ago, but when Draxum brought up how dangerous it would be for their resident mystic warrior Leo shot the idea out of the air so completely that no one present in the room that day had dared bring it up again. 
And now Mikey was gone. Usagi chanced another look at the brilliant starlike portal and knew instantly where he had gone. Accepting the loss of him was like accepting you would never see the sun again. Acknowledging how bleak your existence was about to become. 
“The kid already went through,” Leo went on, his voice barely more than a wheeze. “The mission—it’s his now. He’s our g-greatest weapon. Always has been.” 
Their little hope. Bright-eyed and optimistic, growing up in a burning world. If anyone could save everyone, it was Casey Jones. 
“I need you—you to go, too,” Leo said. 
“What? No,” Usagi said, reeling, light-headed with a sudden super-intense fear. Abruptly understanding the shape his own personal hell was about to take. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t ask me to do that.”
Leo laughed, a gusty exhale that seemed to take the last of his strength. “Not if I leave you first,” he mumbled, an apology and a farewell and all the wryness of a joke he knew no one would like. Tears wet Usagi’s fingertips, smearing into the blood and dirt on Leo’s cheek. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
Usagi was a Hamato the way April and Cassandra and Draxum and Casey all were. The way the turtles had been, once upon a time. Taken in and given a home. He couldn’t weaponize the ninpo but he had never had any trouble feeling it. 
And he could feel it when three different hands joined his on Leo’s shoulder. When Leo closed his eyes and didn’t drift from Usagi as much as he was lifted up into strong arms and carefully carried away. The body that Usagi was holding was empty. The man he loved—the shining boy he first met—was whole again somewhere else. 
Go catch up to Junior, Mikey’s voice whispered in the back of his mind. We’ll see you on the flip side. 
Usagi realized how Leo must have felt all these years, simultaneously carved from stone and insubstantial enough to float away if the wind blew hard enough. There was nothing left. There was literally, he thought, standing under a smoldering pink sky, the man he would have married dead at his feet, blood sticky and staining his fur, Mikey’s last act of love burning like the sun at his back, nothing left.
But there was still Casey. Alone, on a mission to stop this future from happening. 
He thought of that day in the missions room, listening in on a lesson-turned-game, and Casey’s bright young voice rewriting history. The bold, daring characters. The brighter end. 
Usagi kissed the dull red stripe on Leo’s cheek and pulled off his bloodied mask. Lifted the cracked blue katana from the ground and slid it into place next to Edgewing. Tied the tattered blue mask securely around his topknot.
One more run. One more stupid story to tell later. 
“I bet you’ll get a kick out of this one,” he said to whoever might have been listening, and stepped into the light.
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[CN] Li Zeyan’s Reliance Date (Eng Translation)
⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 依靠之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡
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⚠️ Additional Warning ⚠️ while the entire date is not spice-themed, but the steamy parts are borderline dangerous and highly not recommended if you don’t qualify for the 17+ age rating (CN server). so, the call is yours~ :>
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
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【Subbed Video】
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【Chapter 1】 
MC: [on the call] …We need to find some local media outlets that we can potentially partner with for our ad campaign ASAP.
MC: [on the call]  Also, email me a copy of the revised design proposal for the main exhibit booth.
As soon as I hang up the phone, a flurry of work notifications causes my phone to vibrate again. I roll over on the soft couch and can’t help but heave a sigh.
MC: Sigh…
[MC’s Company Name] has undertaken several major projects this year, and all of them have been executed very successfully. The company’s reputation is also gradually expanding beyond Loveland City.
Last month, our company bid for a large-scale project in collaboration with Copenhagen City Council and Loveland City, and I worked overtime for over a month for this.
However, just as we were about to secure the project smoothly, we were maliciously intercepted by the competing company Shuanjian Media. In the end, it was due to LFG stepping in that we were able to resolve the situation with a narrow escape.
Even though the project has been secured, a lingering sense of defeat from being backstabbed and making critical errors remains with me, refusing to dissipate from my mind.
Perhaps because of this, I’ve recently spent the majority of my time being on top of all kinds of tedious work, afraid that if I don’t handle them in time, it will lead to further consequences.
The sound of steady footsteps gradually draws near, and I turn my head to see Li Zeyan walking towards me. He places a cup of hot Longan tea on the coffee table next to me.
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LZY: This is already the eighth time a certain someone has sighed tonight. What’s so thorny about the project that got you on edge?
I put my phone down and, somewhat coquettishly, open my arms toward the person in front of me.
MC: We’re planning an exhibition for the project in Copenhagen. Just finalized the venue today and now ironing out the details.
He readily responds to my cue and enfolds me in his arms. His fingers trace their way up my neck, massaging the skin there in a soothing manner.
LZY: If I remember correctly, the preparation period for this exhibition is quite long, and there’s no need for your recent overtime to catch up on the schedule.
MC: You’re right, but the coordination needed for various aspects of a multinational project is quite intricate. Starting earlier allows more elbow room…
MC: Plus, the reason I’ve been working overtime isn’t just for this project. The business interview you’re starring in will also be recorded tomorrow.
MC: It’s the final episode of the year, so I cannot afford any slip-ups!
LZY: You’ve already confirmed the program sequence with me three times today. What could possibly go wrong?
While speaking, Li Zeyan sits down next to me and draws me into his arms.
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MC: After all, the external press would absolutely kill to have their names in the show where the CEO Li of LFG is making an appearance. So, I definitely need to be 200% cautious.
Nestled in his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, I make a conscious effort to relax my somewhat tired brain.
LZY: If you encounter any difficulties, reach out to me at any time.
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MC: I’m facing difficulties right now, and I’m in urgent need of CEO Li’s encouragement!
I pucker my lips and lift my head to approach him. The corners of Li Zeyan’s lips curl up slightly, and he lowers his head–– a soft, warm touch descends before leaving just as quickly.
Though fleeting, the tenderness of the moment washes over my heart. I nuzzle his chin with the tip of my nose, feeling perfectly content.
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LZY: [chuckles indulgently] Dummy, you’re so easily satisfied.
MC: Why wouldn’t I be? What could be more soothing than a kiss from CEO Li?
MC: As for work matters… CEO Li has already helped me a lot, so I’ll work hard and handle the rest on my own!
LZY: We’ll talk about the “working hard” part later. But if you keep dawdling like this, the bathtub is gonna need a refill of hot water.
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MC: Hehe, right now, you should say something like, “Honey, it’s bath time~”
LZY: …
Ignoring the speechless look in his eyes, I lazily shift my position and nuzzle his neck, then stand up with a smile.
MC: Would you like to join me for some relaxation time?
I notice that his fingertips seem to tense up for a moment. Before he can really come and “arrest” me, I make a face at him and dash into the bathroom.
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 2】
Soaking in the warm bath, I feel the fatigue in my body dissolving into the water.
Just as I’m about to use my phone to find a drama to watch and completely clear my mind, work messages begin popping up one after another on the screen, and I subconsciously click on them.
MC: [to herself] So, the collaboration partner we agreed on before has backed out…?
As part of our tourism project with Denmark, we are planning to establish recreational and promotional zones in both cities, and we have found an experienced collaborator in the relevant field to partner with.
MC: [to herself] Everything was already talked through and all set, so why are they bringing up issues with the company’s capital chain at this critical juncture?
I feel my insides somewhat burning with rage, so I give Anna a call. She also sounds just as angry and swiftly catches me up to speed on the situation.
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Anna: [on the call] I did some digging, and it turns out one of the shareholders of this company has a very close personal relationship with the owner of Shuangjian Media.
MC: [on the call] Shuangjian Media?
Isn’t that the black-hearted company that tried to sabotage our tourism project?
Anna: [on the call] We initially partnered with them because of their experience in cross-border tourism projects, but now wrangling with them is more cumbersome than it’s worth. I think it might be better to take this opportunity to switch to another company.
MC: [on the call] …let me think about it.
I release a sigh and hang up the phone, then bury my face in the water, blowing bubbles as a mild head throbbing creeps over me.
The perfect company… As I ponder on this matter, a face flashes through my mind.
As a matter of fact, I have casually mentioned this project to Li Zeyan before, but he didn’t show much interest in it.
Should I… go ask him?
Even though I know in my heart–– LFG is the ideal choice that can’t go wrong, for some reason, I can’t seem to bring myself to voice my thoughts.
I can’t always turn to Li Zeyan to help resolve my problems every time I run into one.
No longer in the mood to soak in the warm bath, I reach for the shampoo and press the nozzle, intending to wash up as quickly as possible.
I press down hard twice, but the bottle only emits a sputtering sound, and the last remaining bit of shampoo drips pitifully into my palm.
MC: …
Akin to a sudden spark explosion, it instantly triggers a denotation of all the built-up frustration inside me.
I take a deep breath, jerk myself up from the water and throw on a robe, intending to head for the cabinet to find a new bottle of shampoo.
Little did I know, the moment I step onto the tiled floor, I feel my feet slip out from under me, and my body uncontrollably begins to topple forward––
With a loud thud, the immediate sensation of pain shoots up my knee.
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MC: [in pain] Hiss…
The pain causes my eyes to burn hot, and I slide down onto the bathroom floor, rubbing my knee.
A flurry of somewhat anxious footsteps echoes outside the door. Moments later, the door is flung open, revealing Li Zeyan’s face, tension written across his entire countenance, an expression that is rarely seen on him.
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LZY: [panicked af]  What happened?
The blast of cold air from the open door causes me to shiver. Noticing this, he closes the door before squatting down beside me.
MC: …I slipped and banged my knee.
As he looks at my slightly reddened knee, a hint of helplessness crosses his expression.
LZY: [sighs with infinite indulgent resignation] Restless.
His warm thumb massages the area around my reddened knee, causing the jumble of fretful emotions in my heart to instantly turn into a surge of grievances and pour out.
I blink, trying to dispel the mist clouding my vision. The finger caressing my skin pauses for a moment before suddenly landing at the corner of my eye, catching me unawares.
LZY: [even more indulgently] Crying because it hurts too much?
MC: …no, it’s not that!
MC: It’s nothing serious, just that I got a call from Anna earlier. There’s been… a minor hiccup with the tourism project.
Pouting my lips, I recount to Li Zeyan the “bad news” I’ve just received.
LZY: Do you need my help?
This seems to be the second time he has asked this question. I struggle with myself for a moment before shaking my head.
MC: There’s… no need for now, but if I can’t handle it myself, I’ll definitely reach out to CEO Li.
Hearing me respond this way, Li Zeyan doesn’t press further, and he simply places his palm on the side of my knee.
LZY: Does it still hurt?
Listening to his tender tone, I can’t help but gently hook my finger around his.
MC: It hurts… I can’t get up.
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LZY: [laughs helplessly] When a certain stubborn someone fixates on something, there’s no stopping her, but she’s oddly honest when it comes to being afraid of pain.
MC: I’m just being a little persistent, is all. I can’t always have you be my safety net every time there’s an issue… ouch!
My knee twitches slightly, and a dull ache once again surges through my knee, reminiscent of spreading out along silken threads.
LZY: You can’t solve two things at once, so take them one at a time.
LZY: Do you want to take care of your knee first, or deal with the work matters?
MC: …knee.
The air in the small bathroom with thick with white steam, and even Li Zeyan’s faint sigh seems to blend into the steaming hot vapor.
LZY: [lets out a complex laugh; it’s of sb who is all-knowing of all happenings but is infinitely indulgent towards you]  Then listen to me.
MC: [confused]  What…
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Before I can finish my sentence, Li Zeyan has already shown me through his actions how I should “listen.”
A soft touch imprints on my skin, and a burning sensation spreads from my knee along my skin to my entire body.
I jolt slightly and freeze for a moment. The patch of skin kissed by that softness tingles, and it seems like even the pain is slowly dissipating.
LZY: Don’t fidget; it might make the pain worse.
The deep, slightly hoarse tailing note of his voice, accompanied by the sound of running water, causes me to subconsciously draw my leg back a little, only to have it restrained in place by that hand again.
A gentle sensation, carrying with it a slight chill, seems to pepper its way over my knee, and the painful spot feels as if it’s being licked with cherishment and care.
All the senses in my body seem to be concentrated on that one spot, and I can’t help but take a light breath.
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MC: Li Zeyan… 
LZY: [SO SOF– but you can also hear he’s THERE–]  Hm?
MC: …It’s nothing, I just wanted to say your name…
The fingers supporting my knee tighten slightly, and a surge of scorching breath sweeps over me, swallowing my trailing notes.
I follow his breath and, bit by bit, probe deeper, my heart in my chest pounding in synchronization with his increasingly rising body heat.
Warm water continues to gush from the showerhead, soaking both Li Zeyan’s clothes and mine without distinction.
A body temperature hotter than mine gradually closes in, and I feel as if I’m drowning in this steamy heat swirling in the air.
The lingering colorful bubbles from the shower gel float into the air, then burst open with a pop, leaving behind a soft chime drowned out by the sound of water.
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 3】
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Even though I gave up on the bubble bath halfway, ended up having to take a second shower, and by the time I went to bed, it was already the middle of the night, I still woke up early today.
[MC’s Company Name] annual business interview program is scheduled to shoot its final episode today, and Li Zeyan will be appearing as the heavyweight guest in this installment.
I have postponed all my other work and arrived at the studio early to ensure every detail of the shoot is absolutely flawless.
The soft white light from the softbox projects onto the light gray background wall, dimly reflecting the shadows of people hurrying around.
Standing in front of the filming equipment, I direct the production crew to adjust the set.
MC: This table needs to be moved a bit more. It doesn’t look well-positioned at the moment.
MC: Turn the reflector on the front left a little more to the right… there, perfect!
MC: The set is almost ready. I’ll go and check on the guest first.
After saying hello to the supervisor, I head to the dressing room.
Li Zeyan, clad in a suit, sits in front of a vanity mirror, his bangs swept up, causing his somewhat piercing eyes to be enhanced with an even deeper intensity.
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The moment I walk in, those eyes precisely capture me from the reflection in the mirror.
MC: How is the preparation coming along, CEO Li?
LZY: Not bad. Is everything taken care of on the set?
Detecting a hint of jest in his tone, I walk over with a smile.
MC: Yup, that’s why I’m here to check in on this side of things–– CEO Li is our important, esteemed guest after all, so we can’t afford to be negligent.
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MC: Therefore, today, my entire day belongs to you, CEO Li.
I wink at him through the mirror and catch a subtle smile playing at the edge of Li Zeyan’s lips.
I sit down on a stool nearby and watch the makeup artist styling Li Zeyan.
From this angle, his ocular orbit and the bridge of his nose appear even more defined, accentuating the depth of his eyes all the more.
MC: CEO Li’s side profile could outshine many stars on the cover of fashion magazines without competition.
LZY: [laughs in spite of himself] …always laying it on thick.
Even though he says this, the slight arch at the tip of his brows betrays a hint of delight.
Spellbound, as I continue to watch him, my phone suddenly vibrates twice, and a message from Kiki pops up––
Kiki: Boss, great news!!
In the chat window, a push notification jumps into my sight, and a few familiar words grab my attention.
MC: [reading the news] “Shuangjian Media Faces Major Crisis! Multiple celebrities under its banner are implicated in tax evasion scandals, and the investigation is underway. The amount of tax evasion has reached up to…”
Upon seeing the number below, I take in a sharp breath of air.
With such a large amount of tax evasion being investigated, it’s sure to land them in serious trouble.
Although I have caught the wind of some rumors before, suddenly so many people being exposed at once seems more like a deliberate action…
A vague idea surfaces in my mind. I instinctively look towards the man not far away, only to lock eyes with him directly.
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LZY: MC.
I haven’t even noticed when, but his styling is already complete, and the makeup artist has left the dressing room, leaving only the two of us.
The slightly slim-fitted suit highlights his already tall and straight stature, and his slender fingers unhurriedly adjust the cufflinks. He looks in my direction, lifting his head slightly.
LZY: Help me out.
I raise my eyes and see a rose gold collar pin loosely hanging from the collar of his light gray shirt. 
I walk up to him and carefully fasten the collar pin. My fingertips inadvertently graze against the skin of his neck, eliciting a slight quiver of the Adam’s apple beneath the collar.
A somewhat scorching breath caresses my bangs, leaving a tickling sensation.
LZY: [laughs in amusement] Why are you zoning out?
His warm fingertips are on my neck, gently grazing the skin there intermittently.
MC: Just saw some good news that came as a relief for body and mind, that’s why I was a little distracted.
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MC: Shuangjian Media, the company that intercepted [MC’s Company Name] before, has hit a roadblock… I wonder who “played the hero to uphold justice.”
I smile and wink at him, trying to discern any inkling of a clue from his expression that would confirm my guess.
However, he simply lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a barely perceptible arc forming on his lips.
LZY: [chuckles softly, but that’s a mastermind chuckle i tell you lmao] That’s quite nice.
MC: Li Zeyan, you…
A knock on the door cuts me off, and the voice of my assistant comes from outside.
Assistant: Boss, CEO Li, it’s almost time for the shoot to begin.
MC: Got it, we’ll be right there.
I purse my lips, suppressing my urge to inquire further, and loosen my hands, intending to escort Li Zeyan to the filming studio.
To my surprise, the pair of arms holding me within show no intention of letting go. He lowers his eyes, his gaze intent upon me.
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LZY: Given the importance of this shoot, there ought to be an additional step in the preparation process.
With his head lowered, Li Zeyan leans in towards me slightly. A gentle and familiar breath assaults my senses, and his soft finger pad presses between my lips and teeth, hinting at something ambiguous. 
I cradle his face and lift myself up on my toes.
Our breaths intertwine for a brief moment, but a gentle ripple is left in my heart, reminiscent of a dragonfly lightly touching the water’s surface.
MC: So, even CEO Li needs a little encouragement before stepping in front of the camera?
LZY: I learned it from a certain someone.
The light in those deep eyes remains locked onto me, shimmering slightly, radiating a glow that seeps into my heart.
LZY: And it’s very effective.
Such scenes are run-of-the-mill for Li Zeyan. His tone remains steady throughout and devoid of any trace of tension.
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LZY: The economic situation this year isn’t conducive to expanding the business scope or making risky investments, but there are more opportunities in the lower-tier markets compared to previous years…
As I watch Li Zeyan through the camera lens, the soft light, which leans more on the cooler tone, accentuates the depths of the man’s countenance all the more.
He speaks at a measured pace, but each word is uttered with an inexplicable sense of certainty.
Host: Although CEO Li mentioned just now that this year isn’t favorable for expanding business extern, LFG seems to be steadily venturing into new fields this year.
LZY: As a matter of fact, LFG has not been as stable this year as it may seem from the outside. On the contrary, we’ve encountered more crises than in previous years.
LZY: The failure of some investments has even put us under the preying eyes of many industry peers.
LZY: But fortunately, I’m not alone in holding up LFG, and LFG is not an isolated island––
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As he speaks, his gaze seems to subtly shift towards me behind the camera. In that brief second our eyes interlock, the corners of his lips curl upward into a small smile.
But when I focus and take a closer look again, it’s as if that fleeting smile was never there.
LZY: LFG was able to weather this year’s storms without any mishaps not only due to our decisions but also thanks to the countless colleagues who worked tirelessly day and night to recover the company’s losses, as well as to the support of our subsidiaries.
LZY: Especially the companies that LFG has invested in. Without them, LFG would’ve encountered even greater challenges this year.
Li Zeyan’s straight-from-the-shoulder remarks leave even the host a little taken aback, an expression of surprise settling on their face.
Host: It appears that even LFG, regarded as the lion king in the eyes of the others, has times when it rides the waves to advance.
LZY: That’s inevitable; no one walks a solitary path in this society.
LZY: Having your own plans and making decisive choices is important, but choosing the right people to move forward with is equally important.
I am slightly taken aback.
This was not in the script; it’s obviously an impromptu remark from Li Zeyan.
I’m not sure why, but these words suddenly make me think of those eyes gazing into mine in the bathroom last night.
The unnecessary persistences in my heart seem to quietly start to disintegrate. I tightly clench my fingers and pull my attention back to the show.
Host: We can tell that CEO Li is speaking from the heart. It seems that not only for the company but also for you, CEO Li, personally, do you have someone who can be considered as your exclusive “valued person”?
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This time, I clearly see the smile in his eyes. I hold my breath slightly, waiting for the answer that I may have already known for a long time, yet can’t help eagerly anticipating––
LZY: [while looking at you] I do. It’s a well-spring that will never run dry, even in the desert. No matter what trouble may arise, I know without a doubt––
LZY: [while looking at you] She will be by my side forever.
•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•
【Chapter 4】
After the interview concludes, the filming crew and I head to the Central Grand Hotel.
To celebrate the completion of year-end work and the official wrap-up of the show, [MC’s Company Name] is holding a team-building celebration party here.
Perhaps because the end of the year is drawing closer, a festive atmosphere gradually begins to permeate, filling the banquet hall with laughter.
Being spurred on by this pure joy, I also end up having a few extra drinks.
I find myself feeling a little woozy, until, finally, Li Zeyan takes the wine glass from my hand and escorts me all the way to the lounge of the suite.
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Inside the room’s bathroom, I turn on the faucet–– the cool water flows over my hand, washing away the slight tipsiness from the alcohol.
After the buzz from the alcohol has worn off a bit, I exhale and push open the bathroom door.
The lights in the room are not lit, and a familiar voice can be heard drifting from near the window. He seems to be on the phone with someone.
LZY: …got it. Email it to me.
The high heels under my feet tread on the soft carpet, barely producing any sound as I walk quietly to the floor-to-ceiling windows––
Outside the glass windows of the high-rise, thousands of lights spread out into the distance like a dazzling mosaic of stars.
Li Zeyan is lying on the carpet, the neon lights falling upon him in soft, colorful specks.
I sit down by the freestanding panoramic bathtub not far from him, watching as he hangs up the call.
MC: Was that about work?
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LZY: Mm. I heard [MC’s Company Name] is looking for new partners for the Denmark project. I’ve asked the marketing department to draft a proposal. Once it’s finalized, I’ll send it over to you.
MC: But… weren’t you not very interested in this project before?
LZY: It’s true that the profit margins of this project are finite for LFG. However, if we approach it strategically, it could be a breakthrough in the Nordic market.
Seeing my somewhat baffled expression, he raises an eyebrow.
LZY: Since a certain someone has been dragging her feet, I have no choice but to take the initiative and propose it myself.
LZY: Or perhaps you already have other choices in mind?
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MC: Of course not!
I don’t shy away from meeting those deep eyes of his squarely. My heart skips a beat, and I’m reminded of the question I’ve been holding back all afternoon.
MC: Before I give you my formal answer, I also have something I’d like to ask CEO Li––
MC: Shuangjian Media artists were found to have engaged in tax evasion. Helping [MC’s Company Name] vent some frustration this way… that was CEO Li’s doing, wasn’t it?
LZY: After all, a certain someone has been frowning and being glued to her phone even during meals for the past two weeks because of the troubles this company has stirred.
LZY: It’s best to take care of it early on, so it doesn’t take up more of your energy.
I’m momentarily stunned, and as I reflect on the recent events, a surge of emotions suddenly intertwines in my heart.
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MC: So, CEO Li, what you are subtly reminding me is that I’ve been too occupied with work recently and have been neglecting you?
LZY: [you can’t hear me, but I’m screaming––]  I simply want to have the share that’s rightfully mine.
His understated words convey a hint of tenderness that’s impossible to miss, and it sears into my heart, making the swaying toes of my feet pause mid-motion.
MC: Li Zeyan, thank you. Even though it may sound very formal, I still want to say thank you.
LZY: I wonder who was the person that said before that, you and I, we are one identity?
I’m slightly taken aback for a moment–– I did seem to have said those words not too long ago.
At the time, FengZhen Group was making moves against LFG, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be the one who could stand by his side.
[Tidbits]: It’s a call-back to Li Zeyan’s 2024 CNY UR: Burning Imprints~
MC: [teasingly]  I believe I said “and LFG” at the time.
LZY: [confidently shrugs off LOL] Same thing.
LZY: Both LFG and I are enmeshed in many complicated relationships, and more and more branches and leaves are slowly growing outward.
LZY: So there’s no need to be so anxious. You’ve long been the sharpest blade capable of breaking the siege for LFG.
The lingering haze that has been weighing on my mind for the past half a month suddenly clears up. In its place, there arises a kind of sweet and surging fluttering sensation, and it’s overwhelming enough to fill my entire heart.
I did seem to be a little too anxious, so anxious that I overlooked the fact that I didn’t need to be in a hurry to rush forward. The unshakable position by his side will always belong to me and me alone.
I lower my eyes, my gaze tracing the contours of his outline obscured by the darkness.
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MC: Li Zeyan… you will forever be my first choice.
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As the words leave my lips, my ankle is suddenly clasped by a warm, dry palm.
Followed by a sigh that almost blends into the night, a twinge of pain shoots through my calf––
My eyes widen, watching as Li Zeyan’s lips meet my skin and nip me gently. He raises his eyes to interlock with mine, and I can see a hint of dissatisfaction swimming in their depths.
LZY: [GOSH THAT SULKY YET SEXY TONE] You’ve hesitated for too long.
Warm fingertips trace upward along my calf little by little, as if offering a kind of appeasement.
The worries haunting me every now and again, concealed in the darkest recesses of my heart, are set alight and burned to ashes.
MC: …I didn’t take that long.
LZY: Since I am your first choice, don’t hesitate.
His fiery breath snakes slowly up the inside of my knee, accompanied by comforting words tinged with a layer of inexplicable rosy hue, causing one to become addicted.
The soft touch rests gently agains the bend of my knee, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I chuckle softly and look at him with a semi-playful gaze.
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MC: Um… Mr. “First Choice,” could you help me with something––
MC: Tell me, what can I do to make you happier?
Not waiting for me to finish my sentence, the pressure on my thigh increases slightly, and suddenly my body feels lighter.
The cry of exclamation hasn’t even left me before I find my entire person already wrapped in strong, solid arms.
LZY: You knowingly ask the question.
His deep eyes are so close to me, almost within reach. I can clearly see countless sparks surging beneath them, stirring up an ambiguous and inexplicable heat.
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LZY: [chuckles softly] Also, while I said I would help you, it doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay the price.
LZY: After all, I don’t do business at a loss.
LZY: You still have time to think about… what you can give to pay me.
My heart is filled to the brim. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bury my face in the crook of his neck, and release a sigh of contentment.
The throbbing and undulations of his chest pound against my body again and again, and even the depths of my very soul seem to be trembling along with the motion––
Filling up my entire being.
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132 notes · View notes
brisquad-unit-4402 · 9 months
Note
Hey! If possible, could you write doppio dropscythe x reader dating headcanons? Maybe the reader is also a vtuber in nijisanji rn, but it’s a secret from the internet?
i had this draft since the cheftective era and haven’t touched it in a few months, i’m not so sure why, especially since it was almost done... if it seems dated then that's why. thank you for your patience anon, i loved writing for doppio! he's very difficult but very fun!
tags: established relationship, fluff, gender neutral reader, lore compliant, reader is a vtuber, reader is an xsoleil student, secret relationship/getting caught, pet names
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
🐣 Doppio Dropscythe
It's funny, because at a first glance, Doppio seems like the type of guy that takes what he wants. He's never shied away from who he is and wears his heart on his sleeve; one of the many reasons you fell for him.
But he doesn't. You collab often with him and you can tell there's something unsaid between you two, or something more underneath the surface-level entertainment. Something that goes beyond the audience's heads.
It's not quite a certainty but you're convinced you need to do something. It's just that as streamers, especially streamers that work under a corporation, you want to know exactly what to do.
You end up talking to Ver for advice. As the President of Xsoleil, he's a good listener, especially since you know how close he and Doppio are. He wouldn't dare judge you when his friend's own feelings are on the line as well as yours.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You enter the Xsoleil student council office. As expected, Ver swivels around in a big leather office chair that makes him look more imposing than his dorky-sweet-tooth personality ever could. "Reader, it's good to see you. I liked your stream last Friday. How can I help you?"
"Nothing business. I'm here to ask about Doppio."
At the mention of his name Ver leans back in his chair, and you tense. You explain yourself: how lucky you are to work with him, how wonderful of a man he is, and how much you care about him. It spills out of you like water in a strainer. You've kept your feelings bottled up for so long, and Ver has such an accepting energy that makes you want to uncover everything you've been hiding. After all, if anyone could give you approval and advice on your feelings about Doppio, it would be the president himself.
By the time you finish, however, he seems far less surprised than you expected. "You should tell him."
"But what if-"
"Just do it." He presses his fingers between his eyes like he's alleviating a headache. "Trust me on this one. Please. Hopefully if you do so within the next week, Meloco's earnings from the betting pool will go back into our funding."
Somehow, that doesn't surprise you, and you're too happy they approve to get frustrated. You request Ver's blessing. He obliges. "Not that you need it. We're just happy there's someone out there for him." Ver's eyes glint. "Treat him right. If you don't, I'll be very disappointed. And Kotoka will start a smear campaign on Instagram."
"Duly noted, Kaichou."
"And he'd be sad."
"Can you trust me too?" You ask. Ver nods. "That's the last thing I want to do. If we're going to do this, I want to make sure I give him everything he deserves."
"Good answer." He smiles, like everything's fallen into place. "I meant what I said, you didn't need my blessing, but you definitely have it now."
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
When you finally muster up the courage to ask Doppio out, it's like he forgets to talk. In fact, he does. He sputters out happy noises that don't even make up sentences for a solid minute before he remembers how to say "yes."
Doppio makes a lot of noises even when he does know how to talk, and it might be one of the most endearing things about him. You've lovingly started calling them Doppi-noises simply because no one reacts quite like how Doppi reacts. He’s so silly and there isn’t a single word in the English language to describe how silly he is.
He even talks to inanimate objects sometimes when he's alone. It's not much different from how he talks in front of others, but his voice is lower and gentler, and when he realizes you could hear him thank his oven for preheating and the mixing bowls for not spilling ingredients, he spouts out a flustered Doppi-noise with averted eyes and red along his face.
Hanging out with your boyfriend is never boring. He brings so much energy wherever he goes that anything becomes a story, including seemingly mundane things like studying.
Whenever you go grocery shopping he somehow always remembers that one thing you mentioned a few days ago that you wanted to buy but didn't put on the list, and buys it with his own money to give to you, but he doesn't remember to get his own stuff sometimes??
The amount of times Doppio bought you a snack or found a good deal on a candy you've been craving, but forgot to buy hand soap... he usually runs by himself to the store, grabs whatever he forgot, and then comes back to your door nearly out of breath.
Doppio always makes you laugh. He's so goofy when he tries to be, and so earnest when he's serious that his charm is never lost on you. He likes to make you smile.
On the days when your lives as Xsoleil students and streamers get too busy to pay attention to one another, you tend to watch his VODs while you work, and you can pretend like it's just another domestic day where you both tend to your own chores while still enjoying shared company.
You take a fifteen-minute break to reset your brain from working so hard, and you hear Doppio on stream offhandedly mention something with a giggle, and you cackle when you realize it's an inside joke you both share. Then you notice no one in chat even pays attention to what he just said, and you laugh out loud even more. Even when you're apart, he's still thinking about you. He's loyal to a fault.
To this day Doppio still tweets his nonsensical ramblings. But sometimes you reply to them like you understand exactly what he's trying to say! You roll with his humor so well and so quickly after he tweets sometimes, that not only are your fans totally surprised you can comprehend him, but some of your other coworkers in Nijisanji have to ask you to translate what he's saying.
Confession incoming: most of the time you don't understand entirely. But when he checks Twitter and notices the reply from you, his face lights up, and rolling with it makes him bright as a sunbeam. To be fair, you get a lot of his jokes that no one else does. You know how to quip with him and he appreciates it a lot.
Doppio's energy is always infectious, but only so intense when he wants to be. He's always uniquely himself, but he can chill out, and he appreciates when he can. The D in Doppio Dropscythe stands for Downtime!
The whole chuuni thing isn't an act—that's just how he is—but sometimes it's nice when he doesn't need to constantly proclaim his position as the Duke of Discipline. Sometimes it's nice to know he can come home to his Devoted that already knows he's the greatest cheftective out there no matter what he does.
By the way, when you're alone by yourselves, he calls you his Devoted. You think it's so dramatic for the little moments and he thinks it's a bit embarrassing, but neither of you have figured out another word for "lover" that starts with a D, so, Devoted it is.
(Meanwhile you call him Doppippi. Not so chuuni, and you don’t call him that regularly—too mushy—but you swear his face gets a little more colorful whenever you call him by that name.)
It nearly drives you insane how cute Doppio can be. Here he is, one of the tallest and fittest people you know, with piercings and eyeliner and messy hair, and pointed eyes that scream punk rock energy—but he coos at any animal he sees and sticks out his tongue a little whenever he's concentrating on a game, and he turns pink as your hand brushes against the inside of his wrist.
But at the same time, he's still such a badass that you can't resist him. He likes to mess around and tease you, and he knows how to use his appeal to his advantage. It’s no secret he has a sadistic streak, either.
It’s the best of both worlds. He’s so hardcore that it makes the gap moe even more effective when he decides to be cute, and when he's soft and silly it just serves as even harder whiplash when he acts cool.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
You entered Doppio's streaming room with a glass of water and a light snack, and exchanged a few words while Doppio was typing out a before-stream message on his waiting screen.
So how did you get here, a finger wired under his collar to bring him closer, his hands eager as they clutch around the shirt on your back?
You kiss him, hungry and stupid, drawn to his magnetism. His teeth are pointed. They leave imprints on your tempted mouth, dragging magma over your thoughts, the blind come-ons that dusted over what makes sense. The stream should be starting soon but you can’t find it in yourself to resist.
Steam rises where Doppio hangs his tongue along yours, and so do his hands, large palms rubbing up your back and fingers on your shoulders. You’ve learned that he purrs when pleased; a soft, soothed groan pours from the corners of curved lips. Like an engine muffled by your connection.
You readjust, parting just enough to speak, though your words bounce back into his mouth. “You should prepare for the stream.”
“Done.” He holds you along your neck next, ready to go another round.
“Your Scythekicks are going to get lonely.”
“But I don’t wanna stop kissing you.”
“I don’t want to either,” you say. “I mean, you can always delay by fifteen.”
“I’ll send the message in chat, ‘kay?”
Even though the keyboard is just inches away, Doppio still brings you in with a loose arm around your shoulder and neck. Your forehead presses up to his cheek, not quite a hug but just as casually intimate. He removes his arm when he places a quick smooch to your temple.
By now all of Xsoleil’s vtuber talents are pros at sending delay messages and Doppio is no exception. The keys clack along in a steady cadence, until the tapping patters out, slowly and surely, with gaps of space between every keystroke.
It’s comedic like everything Doppio does whether he knows it or not. One final key sounds out before your boyfriend folds his hands over his mouth, and lets out a tiny “Huh?”
He stares at the screen. It’s strange to see him this motionless. You’re not too concerned, until you watch his head sink into his hands. “Er, Doppippi? You alright?”
Doppio buries his head a little bit further. It muffles him as he softly chants. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
“What’s the matter?”
“No no no no no no no no noooo.”
"Did something happen?" You pat his head comfortingly, before looking back up at the screen, where he was typing into chat. "It usually isn't this difficult for you to send a message..."
Metamrph: HELLO??
sola: TSKR
🐣 AikosVoid: READER AND DOPPIO
AKENJIV: no way taht jsut happened imgcrying
eurelin mystic: SHIP CONFIRMED 💖💖💖
rin: WHAT DID I MISS IM LATE
~tiaramiisu~: should i give u kids some privacy lol
in-d4krness: READER HAS MAIDENS
"...Ah."
Doppio groans. You wish you could groan too, but your throat goes too dry to make a sound. The floor can't swallow you up fast enough.
"Um, I, uhhh," you say eloquently. "S-surprise?"
You've never seen the chat go this fast for so long. You can barely read individual messages before they speed away to make room for new ones.
messXed-up!: CLIPPERS GET YOUR CAMERAS
kierri: doppippi is such a cute pet name help
AKENJIV: this is crazy
sola: AAAAAAA
lunasmortas: CONGRATS 💜💜💜
A normal broom: are reader and pio dating???
You nearly choke on your spit despite the moisture leaving your mouth. "Dating?"
By now, Doppio flopped down in his chair so much that he's flat against the desk. Even though embarrassment crawls down your back, your hand rubs his head and shoulders as reassurance while you continue. "Maybe we should've announced that we were dating sooner."
At that Doppio launches straight up in his seat like a bamboo shoot. "Yeah, but I wanted to do a special stream for it, and take viewers' questions and give bad love advice and have a column name like Doppi's Dreamy Passionland and then announce that we're together at the end!" His eyes squeeze shut as he spits out his thoughts, pink washing over his cheeks the more he talks. "But-but-but what's the point of the Scythekicks knowing I have rizz if they can tell I'm not a whiz?"
You know the blood is rushing to your head too, but even now, your shoulders raise as you giggle. "You know our fans would be supportive whether you had a stream or not."
"But the contenttttt," he whines. He blinks to life with a pout and puppyish eyes, a sign that he's being dramatic for the sake of being dramatic. There's no hiding the fact that you're both mortified, but at least you know just as well as he does that he'll bounce back.
"Content later, whatever this is, now." You sheepishly look back at the screen. "Um, thanks for coming, everyone. How about, uh, Doppio and I take a thirty minute delay and we'll get back to you if the stream is still on the agenda."
You don't wait for any answers before you finish Doppio's half-written delay message, pin it to chat, and make triple-sure that the mic is muted this time.
Doppio rests his cheek on his palm, squishing his blush. "I could've done the stream, you know."
"Okay, but do you really want to after that fiasco?"
He averts his eyes, then relinquishes. "...Touché."
"Thought so," you say. "So what do you want to do now?"
"Nothing." Doppio slumps over and places his head on your shoulder, too exhausted to wrap his arms around you even though he leans into the fabric of your shirt and the body heat underneath it. "Let's just not do nothing."
So you take the initiative instead, and hold him properly, letting him sink like a weighted blanket. "You know, that was embarrassing, but if I can say? I'm glad they know we're an item."
He rests in the crook of your neck, letting you envelop him while tired hands lay on your back. "About time they figure out I'm yours." Your scent fills his nose and warms his blush, and even though he thought he was at his weakest on stream, he still finds his reservations breaking down as you let him be vulnerable, just for this moment. "But can't you be mine? Just for now."
You hug him tighter. "Always."
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi
240 notes · View notes
spookykoolkat · 1 year
Note
I absolutely adore your writing!
I wanted to request a Eddie Munson and plus size!Henderson!reader smut!
After dropping Dustin off after Hellfire one night Eddie finally meets Dustin’s sister who is essentially the female version of Eddie. He is smitten with her but doesn’t show it in fear it will mess up him and Dustin’s relationship. He makes excuses to come over to the house more often (which the reader notices). She teases him on purpose, short skirts, low cut shirts, little touches when they pass each other. She’s driving him crazy. One night Dustin invites him over for a movie night and to discuss the new campaign, when Eddie and the reader are the only ones left awake will the tension be to much? Will he finally crack?
eddie m. - your brother's rocker best friend
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an: hiii!!! thank u sm for the request AND all the love i've gotten on my work 🖤🖤 i hope this does your request justice omg!! 😭 because i sure as hell really liked writing it idkidkidk eddie in this one is just so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 anyways pls feel free to send more requests, i appreciate all the love omg like i didnt know so many ppl would like my writing especially being new to writing on tumblr 🥹TYSM OMG PLS I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS THIS i love the feedback! also this is hardly proof read so. yeah :p
warnings: 18+ only, minors dni! minors are NOT welcomed. eddie x plus size!reader, eddie x henderson!reader. this is pure filth, pure smut, literally porn with a plot. p in v (unprotected) *this is fiction pls protect urself*, slight exhibitionism (if u squint), oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex kind of, pet names, dirty talk, spanking/slapping, eddie being eddie
wc: 8.5k
summary: you're dustin's older sister, and notice his best friend taking a particular liking to you.
when eddie first realized who dustin’s older sister was, he was mind fucked. when dustin told eddie about you, dustin made it a note to emphasize the fact that he and you were the same age, and had eddie been, as dustin put it, ‘normal student,’ he would’ve graduated the same year as his sister. but, eddie remembered who you were. very vividly, and when he met you again formally at dustin’s house about a year ago—let’s just say eddie was obsessed with everything that had to do with you. he listened to the music you blasted from your room once he got into his van, he remembered the movies you watched so he could watch them and know why you liked them so much, and he remembered the books you carried and the ones you would read in your living room on his way to dustin’s basement. he wanted to consume you in every way.
"i can't really stay long dustin, Wayne's been getting on my ass," eddie said as dustin dragged him to his front door.
"yeah yeah, whatever, come on i just got this new comic, you have to see it," he said eagerly and eddie just sighed, waiting for dustin's knocking to be heard. and it was.
"dustin i swear if you don't have your key i'm going to literally rip-" you yelled through the front door as you swung it open, not to see only dustin but the guy you went to school with who you knew as the local weed supplier.
"what are you doing with my brother?" you spit, ignoring the fact that eddie looked a little starstruck. he didn't even hear you because of how loud your outfit was, the way your body was tight against your little dress you had in, how your tits looked pressed together, the way your hand rested on your hip as you looked at him irritatedly.
"don't start," dustin said and pushed passed you, telling eddie to come on.
"uh, i'm eddie," he introduced and you smiled through your small laugh, opening the door.
"yeah, i know who you are," you said and he almost thought he felt a shiver down his spine. you knew him, you knew who he was. and now that he saw you in person, he realized he overestimated his will power to be a gentleman and not get hard just at the sight of you.
"go ahead, but you're not staying long. ten minutes." you said strictly and he nodded frantically, stepping inside and following dustin straight to the basement, his eyes looking back for yours as you shut the door and turned, giving him a smile.
he was fucked. that was the start of a year long obsession he tried so desperately to hide. and failed.
you noticed eddie and you had the same interests, you heard megadeth and soundgarden blast through his radio in his shitty van dropping dustin off late, and even in school you saw the patches of rock and metal bands you liked on his backpack, or the studs on his jean jacket. you liked his style and like him, you carried the punk rock edge to you with multiple facial piercings and your black clothing. you enjoyed your style, even in high school you managed to apply dark makeup and were only allowed on piercing, so you kept your lip one. you grew into your own as you got older, only having a liking for horror and sci-fi movies, metal, rock and goth music, and loving your dark dull aesthetic. and eddie liked it too, he actually couldn’t believe how sexy you made looking and dressing like a ‘freak.’
you also noticed these last few months eddie has been coming over a lot more frequently, sometimes at night, sometimes early in the morning to take dustin to school. you didn’t realize until he came over three days in a row, and noticed he would linger in the same room you were in while dustin was off doing his usual around the house, or he’d make comments about the movie you’d be watching and then leave. you never minded it of course, you liked talking to him, you actually felt seen around him and he made you feel like the two of you could relate a lot more than you think.
you also kind of liked to push how far you could go with his boundaries. you’ve had a small crush on him since he started coming around a year ago, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter when he’d greet you with a small hug, or a blush when he’d tell you he liked the outfit you had on. but as the months went on you noticed your words took effect on him too, and you relished in the fact that you knew you could make him squirm a bit.
he enjoyed it even though he knew what you were doing, even though he was going fucking insane. he refused to indulge in his fantasies, in dropping hints that he wanted you in every way possible, he refused to risk his own relationship with your brother. he tried for the entire year he and your brother were friends, to ignore the things you do involuntarily. he didn’t know if half the things you did were on purpose or not, but he had to choke down groans seeing you bend over in tight black dresses, he had to refrain from sneaking into your room just so he can see what it looks like. he hated that you did this to him, that you could be this damn sexy it’s like it was doomed from the beginning.
it was the night dustin had a few friends over for a small get together, one of them being eddie and the others being his usual friend group, mike, el, max, lucas, will and steve as well. steve was forced to go by dustin and eddie, eddie mainly begging because he didn’t want to be the only babysitter there.
you were wearing your usual lounging around outfit when you decided to change because you were heading out that night with a few friends, and you got into your usual all black outfit. only this time you had on black mini skirt on that barely covered your ass as you walked, so to help with coverage you chose black sheer, nearly see through, tights underneath that were slightly torn and ripped, and your top was a deep cut baby tee that was black with rhinestones on it. it was cute to you, you loved skimpy clothes as much as anyone else did and you loved the way it hugged onto your thick body.
you just finished your makeup when you decided to slip on your black heeled boots and go downstairs to gather your things. it was kind of like in the movies when the woman steps down the stairs in her ballgown, having her date gawk at her. only this time you had two little pieces of clothes dripped in all black, and eddie was the one gawking at you while everyone paid attention to the game they were playing.
“i can’t believe i’m here. where the fuck is robin and nance?” steve huffed as he slumped in his seat, eating his pizza.
“you know you should be more grateful to spend time with us, asshole. we could all die tomorrow!” dustin exclaimed from his seat, and steve just rolled his eyes.
“how about in right now?” he mumbled.
eddie wasn’t too focused on anything except the music coming from upstairs, is that the cranberries?, he asked himself, trying to crane his neck as if it’d make him hear better. it wasn’t long before he heard your door open and your hard footsteps treading down the stairs. he felt his heartbeat pick up and the minute you fell into his peripheral he had to turn to look at you. big fucking mistake.
the minute he saw your curvy figure in your tight clothing that just made everything more prominent, he felt that rush. not adrenaline rush, he felt his blood fall from his cheeks and straight into his cock. he was beyond embarrassed, lucky for him he was holding a pillow next to him and quickly moved it over his front. something you saw very briefly, wondering why he looked pained almost.
“alright, i’m leaving dustin, don’t fuck the house up or i will kill everyone here and get away with it,” you said emotionless, going to grab your purse and keys on the kitchen counter.
“don’t get pregnant!” dustin shouted from the living room and you walked back in to say goodbye to your little brother and his friends.
“yeah yeah you too, bye, love you,” you said and leaned down to leave a kiss on his forehead, something eddie paid way too close attention to. he could see down your shirt from his seat, and he could only feel his pants grow tighter around his waist. he wanted to stuff his face in your chest, to hold you by your wide waist and pull you to his body. he wanted to defile you more than you’d ever been.
“problem eddie?” you asked, snapping your fingers where you stand behind dustin, sending everyone’s eyes to his direction.
“uh, wha- I, no, yeah i like this game too,” he stuttered and mostly everyone tried to stifle their laugh while dustin questioned him.
“okay?” you said in a confused laugh, walking off around the group to pass by eddie and bringing your hand to ruffle through his brown locks, and to his shoulder to squeeze slightly.
“see ya later, weirdo,” you said and left, leaving eddie rock hard, embarrassed and in complete shock. he needed your touch everywhere, and that same night after he finally got home and laid in bed, he jerked off to the images he internally burned in his mind.
remembering that night gave you ideas for every time you saw him after that. wearing the skimpiest clothes to open the door when eddie walked dustin to the door, making sure that when he was there at your house you were wearing the thinnest tank top with no bra, and checking that the thermostat was set at a cool 69 degrees.
it was like hell. if he were in heaven. he was tortured seeing you, but the more he saw you the more he craved you. he was excited to see you now, to see what you would have one the next time as you offered a drink in a sultry voice, bending over extra low to reach a fake cord from behind the tv while he sat on the couch. he felt like he was going to fall into a deep black hole that would open up every time you were around, he could follow you around like a puppy if you wanted.
he made excuses to see you, he embarrassed himself in moments just so he could see you, or hear your voice. he was genuinely obsessed with you, that even seeing you for five seconds could make his entire day complete. he was desperate, and you knew.
“you, eddie munson, looking for homework?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest to cover yourself. you felt exposed, just waking up from a nap after dropping dustin off early in the morning, wearing nothing but black shorts and a small tank top that was a little see through if you stared hard enough.
“uh, yeah it’s like this paper i had to write, for…” he trailed as his eyes unknowingly moved to glance over you. he couldn’t help but look at how the shorts hugged your thighs and hips. please let suffocate me. his thoughts were impure, not gentleman like. he should be ashamed.
“for…?” you asked, waving your hand in front of him to get his attention back.
“-my class, it’s in a few minutes,” he said checking his watch on his wrist.
“you do know dustin isn’t here right? and the backpack in question is… with him… at school,” you said in an obvious tone, making him reach to the back of his neck and cringe at himself.
“yeah, right…. um, bye,” he said quickly and left, cursing at himself under his breath as he tried to refrain from thinking of the way you looked before he grew hard. you didn’t shut the door until he drove off, almost smiling to yourself that he did that, made that silly excuse to just talk to you for two minutes.
it was little things that he did that drove you equally as crazy, and the fact that he did everything he could just to see your face made you want him even more. it made you wonder why he hadn’t tried anything with you yet. you assumed he felt like you did, so you didn’t question if he found you attractive or sexy, you just wondered what was holding him back from taking the next step.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
eddie found himself a bit stuck in his own thoughts as dustin, mike, will, gareth, jeff and lucas discuss plans of their next campaign. he wanted to focus on the words and suggestions coming out of dustin’s mouth, he wanted to shout desperately when gareth recommended something that would put the entire campaign in jeopardy, but nothing could come from him.
dustin invited everyone over to spend the night while they plan their new campaign for d&d, he knew it could take all night even the day after to create something flawless, so he figured it’d be best to have those who can sleep over. you were a bit bothered by having that much testosterone in the house, but a little won over by the fact that eddie would be spending the night as well.
you catered for the group of course. After you got home from work around seven or eight at night, you bought pizza and drinks for the kids and acted as their mother, fixing their sleeping arrangements and making sure everyone had pillows and blankets before bed. the minute you walked into your home with the pizza and drinks, everyone zoomed to the kitchen except eddie. he shyly walked over to you with his black jeans on and muscle shirt under his jean jacket.
“i can get that for you,” he offered, nodding to the pizza boxes and liters in both hands.
“here, you can take the drinks,” you smiled and handed him the bag of drinks, letting your fingers linger a little on his while transferring the bag to him. he could feel the softness of your touch, how you grazed the outside of his hand with your nails and smoothly removing your hand from the bag.
“thank you,” you said and lightly patted his chest, moving past him closely so that your body touches his.
stop it eddie. stop! he screamed at himself as you started to tell the kids to not make a mess, trying to keep himself from getting hard again and finally going to put the sodas on the counter where you placed the pizza.
“eddie?” you said and walked over to him where he holds a paper plate in his hand, his eyes wide and doe like as he turned to you immediately.
“yeah? whats up?” he said quickly, gripping his plate.
“you think you can help me make everyone’s bed? i can’t reach the sheets in the closet,” you said innocently, batting your eyelashes and flashing a smile.
“y-yeah, of course.” he obliged and put the plate down, following you upstairs to the closet in the hall. you made sure to go first, your pencil skirt hugging your ass and thighs perfectly, putting him in a trance he never wanted to get out of.
“it’s right over here,” you said and turned right, stopping at white double doors. you opened the doors and reached to turn on the light, letting yourself be as exaggerated as possible, and leaning back to let him through. you turned to the side as he walked up to the closet, staying there and watching him as he strained his body upwards, his shirt lifting a bit to show his pale skin littered with tattoos, even seeing his slight v-line, something you wanted to explore. you didn’t try to hide the fact that you were checking him out.
you decided to test him again, so you scooted your body closer to his and leaned across, your breasts and your body touching his as you reached for a pillow that was on a lower shelf. your hand skimmed his skin not so subtly, grabbing the pillow and squeezing it to your stomach to make your tits more prominent in your hardly buttoned button up.
eddie’s skin was on fire, if he wasn’t thinking about d&d before you came home, he definitely wasn’t thinking about it now. he gathered all of the sheets and some pillows, pulling them out and going back to his relaxed position as you stared up at him with a devilish smile.
“what do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a serious tone, taking notice of your breasts pushed together and again, you saw it on his face. that restraint, the self control he tried to muster up.
“what do you mean, eds?” you tried to play naive, like you were unaware of this little game the two of you had partaken in. it was cat and mouse except less action. you liked to tease and taunt, and he held himself tight with a piece of string that was held by the relationship he had with dustin. who would he be if he actually made a move on one of his best friend’s sister?
“i can’t do that to dustin. i can’t.” he said to you, not even acknowledging your fake unawareness.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you said seriously and turned towards the stairs, “you comin’?” you asked sweetly, yet still a mischievous smile on your face. you were testing how far you could go without breaking that string, but now you wanted to break it. you wanted him to fall apart for you, to finally admit he’s wanted you this whole time.
eventually after everyone settled in, the group went down into the basement and began to watch a movie as the night went on. you told everyone you’ll be in your room, changing into something more comfortable to accompany your brother and his friends.
“it’s just supposed to be us,” dustin huffed and you rolled your eyes, accepting the fact you were unwelcomed and you changed anyway, going into the living room to watch a movie by yourself.
«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»
the boys settled in the basement around 11 at night after arguing about their storyline, going to sleep with no successful campaign just yet but successfully watching two movies before everyone knocked out. eddie was no help obviously, too deep in thought about the way your hands felt, how your warm body pressed into his side, what exactly you were hiding under that pencil skirt. he didn’t realize how sexy you made office attire look, suddenly imagining himself bending you over your office desk and railing you to the point all of your papers and knick knacks fell over. it’s all he thought about as the boys talked over the movie, wondering what it would be like to just go upstairs and take you on the couch.
he rubbed his hand over his face with a deep breath, sighing and throwing over the blankets he had on himself on his other side, getting up from the small couch you had in your basement. eddie knew where everything was in the house, and he made his way to the kitchen for some kind of beverage. a beer, if he was lucky.
he was lucky, just not with the beer. once he got into the threshold of the kitchen, he saw the dim light from underneath the cabinet that’s above the counter glowing against you. your back was to him, seemingly eating something, yet he just stared at your figure. from here, the view of your ass was almost problematic. your tight shorts didn’t let much hide from his sight, he could see the crease of your asscheeks peeking out of the fabric, and he saw the small of your back due to your tank top rising up and nearly above your midriff.
“couldn’t sleep?” eddie asked you finally as he came to lean on the counter across from where you stood.
“i was just craving something sweet, you?” you asked, turning around unphased since you already felt him staring at you. you looked at him as you licked your spoon clean and he breathed in deep.
“something like that,” he said and stood up straight, walking around to you and now standing in front of you, leaning his body against the counter to mimic your stance.
“dustin’s my friend, you know that, and you're like, wow you know? it's hard to, control myself,” he slightly admits, beginning to watch as you sensually lick ice cream from your spoon again after you dipped into the pint for another scoop.
“mhm,” you hummed in agreement, eyes never leaving his. you weren't phased by his confession, you already knew. he tried to not show how in love he was with you, but failed miserable every time.
“i can’t do anything to ruin that, he’d hate me forever,” eddie said slowly, too enchanted by the way your tongue glides over the spoon.
“i don’t know what you mean, eddie,” still keeping up with your shenanigans, wondering if he’d snap any time soon.
“really? the short skirts, showing your cleavage, walking around here with no bra when i’m around, like you want me to die really,” he said dramatically, his hands waving in the air and you smiled, putting the ice cream down.
“that’s just how i dress, eddie. plus this is my house, i can wear whatever i want,” you gleamed and he huffed.
“i won’t lie though, some things i do wear for you. like this, i know you like black. and i know you like when i don’t wear a bra, i see you staring at them all of the time,” you said stepping closer to him as his fingers grip the edge of the counter. he was silent, he couldn't talk. embarrassed at the fact that you actually noticed his not so obvious yet obvious stares.
“do you wanna feel them eddie? or do you just want to stare from a distance and jerk off in the bathroom when i leave?” his face turned a bright red, remembering the times he’d have to leave early or go to your bathroom to deal with what you caused.
“yes,” he answered without thinking, stepping towards you so that there is only a small gap between the two of you. your head turns upwards to look at him as he looks down between the two of you, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath.
“do you want me to-” you began but eddie shook his head quickly.
“shut up,” he demanded, pressing his lips into yours firmly. but it wasn’t like you expected.
normally when you made out with guys, it was boring and dull. there was no excitement, no crave, no desire, it felt like nothing to you. but feeling eddie’s lips on yours practically made your knees buckle, so soft and gentle yet still needy, begging for more. you feel his tongue slide against your lips and you part them slightly, letting him invade your mouth as your tongue fought with his. heavy breathing, panting, soft moans coming from you and occasional groans from eddie as his hands rested at your waist, just to inch upwards on your skin and up your shirt.
he pulled away breathlessly, leaving you flushed and aching for me as his eyes trained on your midsection, watching the piece of fabric lift with every inch he went up.
“you, you are so fucking dangerous,” he said roughly, his black fingernails skimming against the curves of your body, his hands rubbing on your rolls, pressing them into your back to pull you closer.
you could tell his touch was so needy, so eager to feel all of you all at once.
“what makes me dangerous? is it my incredibly intimidating face?” you smiled, watching his eyes grow dark with every touch on your body.
“mm, no baby, you have a pretty face.” he said, more confident than ever now that he knows this little game of yours was over. baby. the pet name sending a shock of pleasure straight to your core that you has to press your thighs together. he noticed.
his hands move to your midsection again, finally deciding to raise the tank top up off of your body. this was risky, you knew that. you were exposed in the very public kitchen that anyone could walk in at any moment, pressed against the counter now with eddie teasing his way around your large breasts.
“holy fucking shit.” he breathed as he cupped them in his hands, massaging and feeling over every inch of skin. he bounced them in his hands, pushed them together to see them fall to their natural state, and immediately brought his lips to the curve of your breast and slowly towards your hardened nipple. he wanted to savor all of you, to feel you and memorize what you liked and what you looked like under all these clothes.
“eddie?” you whispered as he stuffed his face in between your tits as he pushed them up, making you smile boyishly.
“mmmhm?” he hummed, shaking his head in your chest and you tug his hair up, sending a jolt to eddie’s crotch and making him wince.
“do you want me?” you asked, looking at his face in the dull light, wanting to bask in his gaze. you loved the slight stubble on his jaw, how his nose was lightly peppered with small freckles, the way his lips looked so pink and swollen—it drove you crazy.
“fuuuck yes, yes i want you, are you crazy?!” he whisper-shouted, making you blush and pull your lip in between your teeth.
“show me,” you teased, moving your hand from gripping his hair and on his shoulder. he was so quick with grabbing your wrists and practically pulling you upstairs into your bedroom, shutting the door by pressing you up against it. it was so quick, you didn’t even feel shame in the fact that you only had your bottoms on going up your stairs.
“i would’ve loved to fuck you over that kitchen counter, but i’d rather not have dustin and our friends see me sinning with his older sister,” he said as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck and leaving small kitten licks and kisses on your skin.
“thank you,” you breathed, holding him tight to your body.
you did feel a bit bad about engaging with eddie like this, you knew it was a bad mistake as dustin’s sister. this was his best friend, and here you are in your bedroom with your tank top down stairs, feeling the way he’s pressed up against you.
“mm, don’t thank me yet, sweetheart,” he grinned into your collarbone.
“since i can’t fuck you over the counter, i think we’ll just have to settle for that little vanity you got,” his voice was so dark, so deep that you didn’t even really recognize who it was. it made you drip into your panties, and immediately you let out a tiny whine.
eddie moved you to the white, pristine vanity you had where you sat and did your makeup everyday. it wasn’t much, but it did come with a mirror and the thought of watching eddie fuck you from the back like that became too intense for you.
you instinctively bent over still in your short shorts, watching eddie behind you as he softly throws his head back and releases a long ‘fuuuuck’ as you swayed your hips gently against his crotch. he rubbed over the globes of your ass, teasing his fingers at the hem of your shorts.
“i can’t believe you’re bent over like this for me,” he says as he removed his black shirt and stepped out of his sleep pants, only leaving the fabric of his boxers strained against his hard on. you felt it in the kitchen, and you feel it even more now pressing against your ass. you whimpered a little, trying to rub against him until he gripped your meaty hips and stilled your movements.
“you gotta be good for me, okay baby? let me take my time,” he cooed, rubbing over the wideness of your hips and ass as he met your eyes in the mirror. he lingered his fingers around your waist band and slowly tugged your shorts down, leaving you completely bare, and leaving eddie feeling like he could cum just from the fabric of his boxers rubbing against his tip.
“no fucking panties?” he questioned, standing back up as he stared at your bare ass, moving your cheeks to spread and reveal both your holes.
“i, i forgot,” you lied, looking at his body through the mirror. the only light that’s shining on the both of you is the orange hue from the street lights in your neighborhood, the shadow of your window blinds casting on eddie right now. you liked the way his pale body looked under that glow, the way his patch work tattoos mixed together well, some looked lighter than others and the bigger ones were more complex. you wanted to inspect each and every one, know the meaning of them, why he got them.
“i know you didn’t forget, baby. you don’t have to lie to me,” he said and got on his knees to become face to face with your bare pussy. even though you were a little insecure about the way you looked down there, you tried to be as confident as ever just in case it wasn’t what a man was attracted to. you’ve met men who preferred skinny women, or men who didn’t like the way you looked down there because you were ‘too big.’
eddie’s hands gripped your ass and thighs firmly, spreading them as he pleased and watching the way your lips spread to reveal your wetness leaking out of you.
“fuck, fuck im so,” he tried to say but he was losing it. he was going feral at the thought of you being this wet and dripping for him, losing it at the fact he had you bent over naked for him, whimpering and moaning for him.
“is, is it too much?” you cringed inwardly at yourself, shutting your eyes and resting your face on your hands that are folded on the vanity.
“what? no what? too much, what do you mean?” he said, standing up and looking at you through the mirror, still gripping your ass.
“like, am i too, um, fat?” you asked. you knew how ridiculous you sounded, how insecure you sounded. but it truly wasn’t like that for you, you were worried more so about the fact that eddie wouldn’t be big enough to pleasure you. you weren’t much of a size person, but if you wanted to ride someone it would be a bit hard to do that with someone who was 5 inches, for you at least.
“what the fuck? absolutely fucking not, oh my god, baby you are so fucking sexy. i’m literally drooling over this pussy, please i need to ruin you,” he begged, slapping your ass a bit and kissing over the sting. his kisses led him to your inner thigh, and moved his lips to kiss over your wet pussy lips that were pushed together by your thick thighs, and you sucked in a breath as you felt his tongue slide up to collect your slickness, and moving in between your lips.
“eddieee, fuck eddie what are you doing,” you asked as he moved his hand to use his middle and ring finger to rub gently over your cunt, spreading your pussy lips and letting his tongue find your clit swiftly, sucking and slurping as you spread your legs a little more.
“i’m eating this pretty pussy,” he mumbled against your cunt, going back to wrapping his lips around your clit as he licked and sucked, sending you to bite your arm to shush yourself. you saw the way he gripped your ass with his other hand, felt how he kept slapping at your skin, spreading one cheek as his other hand was finding your hole with his fingers.
“fuck, fuck eddie please, please make me cum,” you begged, squirming and moving your legs as you tried to grip the table itself to keep from thrashing. it was so overbearing, the fact that he was so handsome and sexy, and he was buried in your cunt.
“mmmm, baby,” he hummed against your folds, making you jolt and cry a bit. he removed his lips with a pop, letting his tongue lick up your juices on his lips, and watching as his fingers sank into your tight hole. his mouth practically fell open as he watched you stretch around his digits, and watching your eyes through the mirror roll back and your mouth open.
“that feel good baby? am i making you feel good?” he asked against your thigh, pumping his two fingers in and out of you as your breathing started to pick up, your back arching against the table.
“fuck baby, yes yes it feels so good, please don’t stop don’t fucking stop eddie,” you begged, reaching your arm back to grab at his head and pull him back to your cunt, making eddie even more excited at your neediness. he didn’t even realize how turned on his was until he found himself palming his cock through his boxers as you kept his head in place with your hand and rutted against his tongue and fingers. it was hands down the sexiest thing he’d ever felt, letting you use him to get yourself off and grind into his face, he was so desperate for you he found himself moaning into your cunt.
he was going crazy, and it wasn’t until he finally grabbed your hand and moved it so he could use the hand he was palming his cock with to spread your ass, and move his tongue from your clit to your asshole. he used your juices he collected with his tongue and spit directly on your hole, still letting his fingers pump in and out of your hole, but letting his tongue find his way between your cheeks.
“oh my god, oh my f- eddie, please don’t stop please fuck, i need it, i need you please,” it was your begging that made him feel drunk, the sound of you so desperate and so willing to do anything just so you can feel good, his mind was focused on you and only you. he actually forgot where he was for a moment, and let himself eat your holes out as he pleases.
“eddie, fuck i swear i’m gonna cum, please can i please cum?” he didn’t even tell you that you had to beg for your release, he didn’t even expect that you wanted permission, and now that he knows he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. he was loving the way you looked right now, how fucked out and desperate you looked, how sex just dripped from your pleadings.
“not yet pretty girl,” he said, his face covered in your juices and still, he wanted more. he moved his tongue back down to your hole where he decided to slowly add a third finger, letting his tongue trace around the way your cunt gripped his fingers.
“s’ too much, eddie please let me cum,” you felt the tears sting your eyes, and you didn’t even realize you were crying until you finally moved your head from the table and to look in the mirror, seeing your puffy eyes and red face, the tears leaking from your eyes. all you could see was the way his arms and hands were gripping your backside, yet the obscene slurping and moaning made it too intense for you to keep watching him devour you. you felt how his head shook and moved in your cunt, how his lips and tongue worked so beautifully on your clit, you even felt how the tip of his nose rubbed against your slit. it was so much, so overwhelming, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
“tell me it’s mine, tell me this pussy is mine,” he said, moving his lips to kiss over your thighs again. you felt the way his fingers curved into you, hitting your soft spot that made you want to explode. your eyes couldn’t keep open, you felt like you were going cross eyed with the way you felt. never have you felt like this from getting head before, never felt so excited and so wet, you’ve never felt so needy the way eddie made you feel.
“eddie, it’s all yours, fuck it always has been, this pussy’s yours, please,” you cried, making sure you were only loud enough for him to hear.
“mm, that’s all i wanted to hear baby, cum for me, cum on my face,” he said and moved his lips back to your cunt, his tongue working feverishly now on your clit, sucking, grazing his teeth against your nub, licking and even using the fingers that were inside of you to replace his tongue and let his fingers work your clit.
“i’m, fuuuck, fuck i’m cumming, i’m fu-” you moaned, letting your body go limp on the table as your legs shook, your release coating his tongue and face as he kept fucking your hole with his tongue. you were practically biting down on your hand, his tongue still going and sending you into a spiral.
“baby, please, i can’t,” you gasped, begging him to halt. he finally releases you, the slurping and wet sounds no longer as he stood up and rubbed his hands over your ass while he pushed his erection into your wet cunt. he reached and grabbed you by your neck, pulling your naked body to his chest as he looks at your figure in the mirror. his left hand moves around your jiggly body, gripping at your tummy that bulges out slightly, squeezing everywhere and grabbing your cunt with his whole hand.
“this all mine, pretty baby? only for me?” he asked again in your ear, moving his hand to grip your tits and playing with your nipples.
“yes eddie fuck, please. make me yours? i wanna be yours,” you begged, your voice hoarse and weak, sounding completely different than your usual snarky tone. he couldn’t help but smirk to himself, having you like putty in his hands when the whole time you made him nervous.
his. yours. mine. the words eddie has craved to hear, he’s dreamed of cumming to you telling him you’re his. he’s wanted you for so long and here you are, all fucked out against his chest and still begging for more. he couldn’t help but move his boxers down to fall at his ankles, letting his cock spring free against your ass and quickly slipping it between your thighs, right against your pussy. through the mirror, you could see the tip of his cock peeking through your plush thighs, and watched as he fucked your thighs using the slickness from your cunt.
“fuck, this pussy’s so fucking wet for me, you want me to fuck you? maybe you’ll stop teasing me when i’m over here if i finally stretch you out, hm? what do you think?” he panted, enjoying the feeling of your thighs pressing against his cock, stopping before he could cum.
“please fuck me, i’ll be good, please,” you whined, moving your hand to feel the tip of his cock, feeling him buck his hips and hearing a low growl from his throat. he pulls you back with him, still pressed against his chest, even after you fall back on top of him when he decided to sit on your bed against the wall. now, he has your legs spread in the air with the back of your head pressed against his shoulder as he peers over your shoulder to watch you spread all for him. you can feel his hard cock against your asshole, seeing it over your cunt and moving your hips to coat his cock with your juices.
“uh-uhn, i’m not done,” he grumbled, keeping your legs spread and watching the way your pussy lips spread open with the way your legs were in the air, and how easy it was to access your clit and rub your wetness over your hole and clit.
he moved his hand to push his cock against your cunt, rubbing it between your fat lips making sure his tip hits right at the hood of your clit.
“can i suck it?” you asked shyly, you couldn’t help but moan at the size of it and seeing it rub against your pussy. “‘s so big,” you finished and he blushed, throwing his headback with a groan. he wanted to hear you ask him to suck him off over and over again, the way you sounded so small and shy about it, how you actually wanted to take him in your mouth. he'll definitely be thinking about that now.
“fuck, what i’d give to feel those lips right now, but not tonight baby. i need to be inside you, right fucking now,” he groaned and finally pushed his cock at your hole, feeling his tip intrude and slide in slowly. he wanted to try to get you used to the feeling of him stretching his way inside you, but slowly realized it was him who needed to get used to how tight your cunt sucked him in.
“oh my fuck, i could fuckin’ cum right now,” he groaned as he relaxed inside you, adjusting you on top of him so he could see better and you were better pressed against his chest. he could see everything from the way he’s looking down behind you, he could see your eyes fighting to stay open as he slid inside, and the way your legs squirmed trying to stay open.
“you’re doing so good for me, pretty girl, so good,” he praised, awakening something inside you. somehow, he made you want to do everything right to hear him tell you how good you’re doing for him.
“eddieeee,” you whined as you felt yourself sink onto all of him, watching your hips begin to move on his trying to fuck yourself on him.
“what baby? you need more?” he asked as he gripped your belly, loving the way it looked with your knees almost at your chest.
“harder, please,” you begged, throwing your head back to look up at him, just as he looked down at you with your eyebrows pinched and your mouth open. he smiles, kissing all over your face as he began to fuck up into you faster and harder, moving to watch your tits and tummy bounce with every thrust. he decided to take your legs and hold them open while still on top of him, slapping at your thighs and whispering dirty things in your ear. all you can muster out are occasional moans and cries, whining his name out.
“gotta be quiet sweetface, don’t need anyone hearing you moan my name for me like that, only me baby,” he groaned. you could feel the rumble of his chest against your back as you watch him slide in and out of you. you were cockdrunk at this point, so dumb and fucked out that you can’t form a coherent sentence.
eddie felt like he was losing himself in you, the way you squeezed your walls around him and cried out how big he was made him want to be more than inside you. he really wanted to crawl inside your skin and be with you twenty four seven, he wanted to be the piece of gum stuck at your shoe just so he’s near you. he was desperate for you in every way and it showed in each thrust.
“need you on your back, baby,” he grunted and slipped out of you, moving your body to be laying underneath him rather than on top of him. he moved your legs harshly, spreading them apart and slapping your pussy just to watch it recoil with every slap.
“such a pretty fucking pussy baby, can’t believe it’s all mine,” he said moreso to himself. he was rubbing up and down your thighs and belly with his cock rubbing against your entrance, watching you squirm and beg for him.
“i love your cock so fucking much, please fuck me,” you begged in a whisper, and he gripped your belly when he decided to finally slip back inside you, watching the way your tits were pressed together and nearly covering the bottom of your face.
“mm, fuck you’re so pretty like this,” he said as he brought his hand to your chin, his thumb rubbing over your lips as he slid inside you again, this time a little more rougher than last time. when he slid inside, you gave him the opportunity to slip his thumb in your mouth when you moaned softly, and you instantly wrapped your lips around his thumb and started sucking and licking on it like it was his cock.
he was in a trance watching you, and feeling your walls clench down on him at the same time. he couldn’t believe you wanted him like this, and how nasty you were for him, he kind of forgot about you being anyone’s sister.
you decided to bite down a bit on his thumb and watched as he winced, but felt the way his cock twitched inside of you. the pace he was going was harsh and rough, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass was something he didn’t even try to conceal. instead, his own groans and moans were getting a little louder, the both of your moans mixing together.
“eddie, it feels so good, fuck you’re so perfect,” you cried with his thumb still in your mouth and he leaned down, kissing your face and neck trying to reposition himself and angle differently. when he did, you could actually feel the air slip inside and the next thrust he hit, you and he both heard the sound of you queefing, immediately feeling embarrassed and wanting to cover your face.
“mmm, fuck she’s talkin’ to me baby,” he said in a smile while he kept pumping his cock in and out of you. you giggled and hit his chest, telling him to shut up and keep fucking you, trying to ignore the embarrassing noise your own vagina made.
“c’mon, she sounds so fucking good, so fucking wet for my cock, yeah?” he cooed, sending electricity down to your clit and making you arch your back. when you do, he takes the chance to catch your nipple in his mouth and nip and suck at it.
“fuck eddie, you’re filling me up so fucking good, s’full of you,” you tugged at his curls and kept his head on your chest, feeling the impeccable stretch of his large cock. it was so girthy, so long that you felt like you were being split in half. it was painful, and that made it even more pleasurable. the way the patch of hair above his cock was rubbing against your sensitive clit made you cry out, scratching and scarring his back as you heard his groans and moans become more visceral, harsher, and you felt the way his hips started to buck and stutter.
it was when he released your tit to meet your eyes, and wrapped his hand around your neck, gently squeezing—that’s when you immediately felt the tug in your tummy, your thighs and legs tensing as you watched the way he lost control inside of you. you felt even hornier watching his body form a sheet of sweat, his face contorting into pure pleasure, and you felt how his cock reached the deepest part of your cervix.
“fuck, look at that, creaming all over my cock, fuck princess cum for me, cum all over me, make a fuckin’ mess please,” he begged, kissing your lips, still being able to taste yourself on him from earlier. your hand went up to grab his wrist, beginning to buck your hips against his and feeling the burst of pleasure flood through your body, making your legs shake and your moans muffle against his lips. you were still gripping his wrist when he finally pulled back to watch you ride out your orgasm, and he felt like he could cum right then and there. your body was arching for him, aching for more of his touch, bouncing with each thrust, your body littered with purple bruises from giving you hickeys everywhere, how out of it you looked—he needed to cum.
“where do you want it baby? where do you want my cum?” he asked you, releasing your throat and kissing over the place his hand was.
you didn’t think about it for a minute. you wanted him in all his glory, you wanted every bit of him. you craved it for so long, that you’d be stupid not to tell him where you wanted it exactly.
“inside, please eddie, wanna feel you fill me up, need it,” your sentence was not correct, but it got the point across. you didn’t even have to make sense, the minute you said inside he was a goner. he pumped inside you a few more times before thrusting hard one last time, jerking and twitching inside of you as he covered his groans in your flesh.
“fuck, dude you’re so fucking amazing,” he breathed as his body collapsed on yours, his face shoved into your chest.
“did you just call me dude after you came inside of me?” you asked, making sure you heard right. it was funny to you, it was just so eddie.
he rolled over off of you, pulling out at the same time and laying next to you on his back.
“yeah, uh, sorry. force of habit,” he said sheepishly and turned his head to you, trying to read your facial expressions.
“can i clean you up? before i go, uh back downstairs. i don’t want dustin asking where i am just to find me with his sister,” he said and you rolled your eyes.
“he’s a big boy. i think he can handle knowing you like me.” you said and watched him.
“still. he’s my friend, i’d like to tell him on my own terms.” uou couldn’t help but smile, turning your body on your side to face him better and bring your hand to his face.
“you’re the sweetest, you know?” you said and rubbed your fingers over his jaw and stubble.
“i think it’s safe to say you’re the sweetest,” he said referring to the fact that he did very much in fact devour you whole on your vanity desk.
“i’m gonna shower, so don’t worry about cleaning me up. maybe next time, i’m a girl who likes a bit of aftercare.” you said and kissed his lips softly, softer than you did when he was inside you. he kissed back and reached to pull you closer, wanting more of you. you put your hand on his chest and pulled back, leaving him breathless.
“so, this isn’t a one time thing?” he asked as he tried to breathe normal again. the both of you sat up to gather your clothes and as he put them in, you stood up and walked to your dresser, grabbing a pair of panties, a shirt and some shorts not bothering to cover yourself as he gets dressed again.
the second he’s full dressed and standing, you walk up to him with your naked body still pressed against his body, and raise yourself up on your tip-toes to kiss his lips once more.
“i really hope not.”
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outsideratheart · 1 year
Text
Bumped Heads & Bedtime Stories (Alex Morgan x reader)
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A/N: So this wasn’t planned but once it was in my head I had to write it. I hope you all like it.
Alex and Charlie watched on proudly as you took the field with the Matildas for the Semi final of the World Cup. The younger of the two got up from her mother’s lap and stood directly in front of the TV when the camera zoomed in on you as you exchanged pendants with the German captain. 
“Mommy look it’s Mama” Charlie says excitedly. 
Long distance was hard for the two of you when you started dating, more so when you got married but all of that failed in comparison to when you had Charlie. You played for Lyon and had done since you were a 21 years old. Alex feared what your bond with Charlie would be like when you lived half way across the world for the majority of the year but she soon found out she had nothing to worry about. Charlie adored you and the bond you two shared was unbreakable.
“It is and she is wearing a shirt just like yours” Alex replies to her daughter.
“This is her shirt Mama, look” Charlie points the your last name on the back of her shirt.
“But you support America, right Charlie?” Kelley asks the small child.
“No! I support Australia” she didn’t pronounce every letter but it was enough to be understood.
Alex knew this was an argument she could never win. You hadn’t tried to get Charlie on your side, the girl automatically chose you. The two of you asked her who she would support if Mama and Mommy play against each other and each time Charlie said you.
The Matildas were putting in yet another dominating performance just like they had been doing the entire campaign. The advantage they had with it being a home tournament made a huge difference and every game sounded and was played like a final.
You were 2-0 up going into the second half. Sam had scored from a corner and you had scored from a free kick. You were currently the top scorer on the tournament which shocked most people because you were a left back but you were also a set piece specialist. The ball almost always found the back of the net whether it came off your foot or your head.
It’s why when the next corner takes place you are heavily marked but some how manage to free yourself. As you jump for the header you feel your head hit something but it felt a lot harder than a ball, this much is proven when you fall to the floor and can feel your head throbbing in seconds. Your first guess is that you got elbowed so you stand to your feet but then feel a warm liquid running down your face. Yes, you had built up a sweat but it was winter in Australia no way are you sweating this much. It is only when you look down that you see drops of red on your shirt and when you raise your hand to where the pain is your hand is covered in blood.
Alex was unaware of the incident that had taken place on the pitch as she was getting some water from the hotel bar. The first wave of panic is brought on when she hears Charlie shrieking and her cries get louder and louder as she runs towards her.
“Mama’s hurt. Blood” Charlie all but jumps into the Alex’s arms. The child is inconsolable.
Your wife doesn’t know to react. She knew that she had to stay calm if she had any hope of calming Charlie down but right now she was finding that incredibly difficult.
When Alex returns to the seating area she sees all eyes are on her before heads turn towards the TV. 
“How bad is it?” Alex asks calmly.
“Lots of blood” Charlie is the only one to answer her question.
“Can you one you please tell me what happen to Y/N?” Alex begs her team mates.
“It was a corner. She jumped up for a header but one of the German defenders had a hold of her shirt. The keeper came out to punch the ball away and kneed Y/N in the head. She got up almost immediately—“ Kelley tried telling her best friend.
“So she’s ok?”
“She had a cut on her head. Like Charlie said there was a lot of blood. She refused a stretcher and help from the physios because she wanted to play. Sam and Ellie had to help her of the pitch. She looked out of it”
Alex tried to process what she was being told. Head injuries are serious and regardless of whether you used a stretcher or not, the suggestion of one is enough to instil worry. 
“Was it bad?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to the answer.
“No”
“Yes”
Only one player said yes and it was Kristie. 
“Sam refused to play and walked off the pitch with Y/N. I know my girlfriend, I has never seen her look like that and she has never walked away from a game. It’s the semi final. She wouldn’t have gone with Y/N if it wasn’t bad”
Kristie’s statement made Alex feel two things; relief because you had your best friend with you and panic because the blonde was right, Sam wouldn’t have left the match if it wasn’t bad. 
“Charlie” Naomi walks up to the little girl who surprisingly doesn’t shy away from her “do you know how many goals you mama has scored so far? I think it’s 2”
Your daughter reaches of the defender and goes into tell her that you had scored and how you scored them. 
Time after time, Alex got your voicemail. She was about to give up and drive to the hospital that were closest to the stadium but then Kristie got a call.
“It’s Sam” She holds the phone towards the forward “She’s with Y/N”
Alex took a deep breath before holding the phone up to her ear.
“Y/N” 
“Hi Al” you voice was quiet and if she hadn’t already have known she would be able to tell something was wrong “I need to go to the hospital for some checks and stitches”
“Which one? I’ll get one of the cars and be there as soon as I can” Alex was already searching for a member of staff that would have car keys.
“No, don’t come. Stay with Charlie. Hospitals are no place for children and you hate them almost as much as I do. I should only be a couple of hours if I don’t have to stay over. I’ll come to you afterwards”
Alex wanted to argue. She needed to see that you were ok with her own eyes, anything less wouldn’t do. 
“You’re going to come here as soon as you can?” 
“I am” 
The whole USWNT waited patiently, some more than others, for you to arrive to their hotel.  Since you began dating Alex, you had become part of their family. They all watched the incident happen and would feel much better when they saw you in the flesh. 
Hours pass and you still hadn’t arrived, they hadn’t even heard from you since the call with Alex.
Charlie went quiet and Alex knew it was because you needed to see you. The young girl always shut down when she missed you and she wouldn’t return to her normal until she saw you or felt like you were close to her. Because of this Alex had packed several of your hoodies so that they can be a source of comfort your daughter and her as well.
“Kells, will you take Charlie up to get one of Y/N’s hoodies. I’d take her but I want to be here when she—“
“Of course” 
The choice of clothing must have been a hard decision because the pair was gone almost half an hour. The defender returns to the hotel bar.
“Kelley, please tell me you haven’t lost my daughter?” Alex asks when she notices her friend is alone.
Alex walks towards the defender who had assumed Charlie was right behind her.
“Mama!!” 
The word is heard throughout the bar and the giggles that follow lift a weight that had been hanging on each players shoulders. 
When you enter the bar, your daughter in your arms, everyone can see what the accident had done to you. The left side of your forehead is slightly swollen and you had stitches just below your hairline. You welcome Alex into your arms and place a small kiss to both her and Charlie’s temples.
Sam hovers near you. You hear Kristie call her over but she shakes her head.
“Go. I’m fine” you pat your best friend on her shoulder “Thank you for staying with me Sammy” 
“I’m only over there if you need me” Sam gingerly walks over to her girlfriend.
You sit down with Alex next to you and Charlie on your knee. Your daughter inspects your injury all whilst been careful not to hurt you. She presses your stitches a little too hard which causes you to wince.
“Does it hurt?” Charlie asks and you can feel Alex’s eyes burning into you.
“It does but I’m ok” 
“Are you?” It is now Alex’s turn to ask you a question.
“I am. I have no concussion and no major damage”
“Then why is Sam here and why is she watching you like you’re going to pass out at any minute?”
“I lost consciousness a couple of times, I think I scared her” You once made a vow to be honest with Alex and it seemed important now more than ever.
You look over to where Sam and Kristie were sitting and like Alex said, Sam was watching you like a hawk. 
“I’m here because I have her medication” Sam answers Alex’s first question.
“Medication? You said you were ok. If you were ok then you wouldn’t need medication” 
You give Sam a look as if saying look what you’ve started. 
“Sam. Show Alex the medication you were talking about”
Sam holds up a pack of paracetamol earning a laugh from the girls around you. 
You hated taking painkillers but the doctor give you strict instructions to take them every 4 hours. It has been 2 hours since your first dose and Sam had taken it upon herself to make sure you took a second dose, after that it would be Alex’s job.
“Sam wanted to see Kristie without it the girls teasing her for it so she’s using me as an excuse”
Sam couldn’t argue with you on that. The team, you included, loved to tease her about how much she missed her girlfriend. You got just as much stick but you agreed with your tormentors whereas Sam would get defensive.
You took Charlie upstairs to get ready for bed since it was made obvious that the team would be staying downstairs for a bit and one late night wouldn’t harm the child. 
Whilst Alex did believe you when you told her you were ok, she still wanted a second opinion and your best friend her best option. 
“How bad was it?” Alex joins Sam and Kristie at their table. Sonnett, Lynn and Kelley was also at the same table.
“You want the truth?” Your wife nods her head “At first it was really bad. The physios couldn’t stop the bleeding and they didn’t want to go to hospital until they did. Y/N was out of it but she was trying to act fine. Her eyes wouldn’t focus on anything, it was almost like we weren’t in the room with her” Sam tries not to cry but the lump that if forming in her throat was making it difficult.
Alex didn’t share the same need for control. Her tears fell freely as she heard your best friend tell her what happened moment by moment. Turns out she did have a reason for concern and quite a few at that. Looking at the way you walked in you wouldn’t have thought anything had happened but after listening to Sam, Alex realised you had to be putting on a brave front.
When you return with a pyjama clad Charlie Alex tells the group that is is time for the Morgan - Y/L/N’s to go to bed. You saw the look in her eye and didn’t argue.
Once the door had shut Alex started to cry. 
“Hey hey, there’s no need to cry” you pull her in tight and hold her close. You knew that you would have scared Alex so you let her cry.
“You scared us” Alex speaks into your chest.
“I know, I’m sorry” you grab her hand and pull her towards the bed. Once sat down Alex buries her head in the crook of your neck and you hold her tightly again.
“Yeah mama, there was a lot of blood” Charlie walks over to the two of you. Alex pulls away and quickly wipes her eyes. She didn’t want your daughter to see her cry.
You wanted to say wait till they see your Matilda’s jersey which was now more red than yellow but now wasn’t the time for jokes. 
“I know there was but it all got cleaned up and then I got these to stop it from bleeding again” You point to your stitches. 
“I got you this” Charlie climbs onto your lap and holds up a band aid which had Pepper pig on. You take it off her and hand to Alex with a nod of you head. Alex then places the unnecessary band aid across the stitches but makes sure that the cushion covers your stitches.
“Can we watch a movie?” 
“Yes” Alex answers.
“Actually, the doctor told Mama she isn’t allowed to watch any movies tonight”
“You said you didn’t have a concussion” Alex whispers knowing full well what people who have concussions get told.
“I don’t but the brightness makes my headache worse” you reassure your wife.
“Why?” Your child was curious and didn’t understand why you wouldn’t be allowed.
“Because whilst I am ok, I do have a poorly head. What about a bedtime story instead?” 
Charlie happily takes you up on your offer and even gets herself into her bed. 
“What do you think Al, is it time our daughter finds out how we met?” 
Alex rolls her eyes at this. You two had very different sides when it came to the day you met. You were adamant that it was love at first sight, especially for Alex but she didn’t agree. 
“Only if you tell her the truth” 
Once Charlie is tucked up in bed you side on the side with Alex standing over you.
“It started when Australia played America. I had to mark your mommy and she kept trying to take my top off” This earned you a slap from Alex but a giggle from Charlie so it was worth it.
“I did not”
“You ripped it off me remember”
“It was an accident”
“Oh baby, you keep telling yourself that. Do you think it was an accident Charlie?”
“Nope” Charlie agrees with you, of course she did.
You continue telling the story and every so often you would hear Alex scoff at your recollation of events. She saw you as this cocky Aussie but you did catch her eye that first day but she wouldn’t call it love at first sight. Lust would be more appropriate given then you ended in her hotel room that night.
“Then a couple of years later your Mommy moved all the way to France because she missed me and wanted to see me everyday”
“I didn’t move for you. Well not just you”
“Ha! I knew it” you look up at Alex with a smug look in your face.
“I miss you everyday Mama” 
“And I miss you my sweet one”
You continue the story up to the point where you propose to Alex when you see Charlie trying really hard to fight sleep. You end it there and promise to finish it another time.
You get into your own bed, well technically it is Alex’s bed, and with a watchful eye you enjoy the show she is putting on as she gets changed.
“So I’ve been thinking” 
“Are you allowed to do that?” Alex jokes.
“Actually not but just allow it for the time being. My contract is up with Lyon this summer and I have meeting after the world cup to discuss my contract. How would you feel if I request a transfer?”
Never in all the years of dating and marriage had Alex asked you to leave Lyon, not even when Charlie was born. You were one of the best players in the world, Lyon was the team that made you into that and in return you gave them several champions league titles. Sure the topic had been brought up before but you were always under contract so it was hard.
“Are you saying you are ready to leave?”
“No. I’m ready to stop leaving. Charlie is getting older and you heard her, she misses me and I know you do” Alex throws her top at you “You do and I miss you too. I’ve given my life to that club but it’s time I put our family first”
You wouldn’t admit it but today scared you and you knew that it could have been a lot worse than it was. It made you appreciate these moments you had with your family and you wanted to have more of them even if it did mean moving the San Diego.
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blazehedgehog · 16 days
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After watching SAGE's 2024 trailer, you ever get the feeling that most people want to be making indie games instead of fan games nowadays,? Every year there's been less and less fan works there.
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This is the first year I've really felt it in any meaningful way.
There have been attempts for more than a decade to rename SAGE to drop the "Sonic" part. I've always pushed back against that and at this point the branding is too strong to give up, I think. People know about and come to SAGE because the brand is strong. Renaming it would be a death sentence.
Taking off my business hat, it's a bummer to see fangames in the minority here. Everybody wants to hop on that indie game gravy train and chase the success of Pizza Tower (seriously, count how many Pizza Tower clones are in the trailer this year) or Freedom Planet or Spark the Electric Jester or whatever.
And it's easy to congratulate people for striking out on their own and making original games. I was one of the many voices urging Sabrina to divorce Freedom Planet from the Sonic franchise and make it into an original game she could sell. So she ran a crowdfunding campaign (multiple, actually), was successful, and now we have two Freedom Planet games. And that's great!
But... does that mean all fangames should go away forever?
The example I lean on the hardest is comic books.
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A lot of the guys who created the biggest super heroes aren't around anymore. They gave up control long ago or are straight up dead now. These books are effectively officialized fanfiction now, as are the $300,000,000 movies based on them. An ever-increasing number of people writing, drawing and directing these characters today were not alive when they were originally created.
But people still keep writing Batman stories, officially or otherwise. Because there are some stories you can only tell with Batman. Now, you could break off and make your own character that's similar to Batman, build up this history for him, and then finally tell your original story with that character. And maybe that's satisfying, to have built something of your own like that.
But for one: that's a lot of work. Batman is interesting because he has decades (almost a century now) of history behind him to play off of and work with. There are people out there who will tell you to just start writing your dream story and forget about building up to it first, but that's more about motivation and confidence than the idea that stories don't need historical context.
And two: that's already been done.
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There's a good chance you know who Rob Liefeld is from his, uh, "distinctive" art style. He also created Deadpool, a katana-wielding mercenary assassin that dresses in red and black, whose real name is Wade Wilson. But before Deadpool, he created Deathstroke, a katana-wielding mercenary assassin that dresses in orange and black, whose real name is Slade Wilson.
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Here is a guy who has built a career on copying his own work (and the work of others) over and over and over again.
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Did it make Rob Liefeld rich and famous? Technically yes, but he kind of got rich because other people made better work using his characters, and he's famous for being kind of a hack.
So which is better?
Creative output you can do right here, right now, today, but is considered "fanfiction" or "fanart" or a "fangame", which may or may not lead to you being the person handling the official thing at some point down the road...
Or spending years of your life toiling to bring an original concept to life, and even if you struggle through all of the boredom and hardship of getting your original product out the door, it gets lost in the noise of now-million other creators trying to do the exact same thing. And then, at the end of your launch, after 2, 3, even 5 years of working and working and working, you've only made enough money to cover rent on your apartment for a month and a half.
Or, to put it another way:
Are you ditching fangame development because you have a legitimately great story you want to tell, or are you just doing it because you can't make money on a fangame?
Are you just creating another Bloodstrike?
As someone who has struggled to justify putting lots of hard work into a fangame myself, and have both made very popular fangames and some not-so-great original games, I don't know if I have a definitive answer for you. But I do wish there were more fangames at the fangaming event, and I will say, as always, if I could get paid a livable wage for making fangames, I would drop everything and do it in a heartbeat.
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lol-jackles · 5 months
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tumblr /jenmishperceiver/747567018487726080/i-think-if-anything-put-the-final-nail-in-the> I've seen this assumption before and imo it's spin: Jensen said repeatedly that he told the group he wanted to think about the script, went home TO HIS WIFE and said he was uncomfortable, who then suggested calling Kripke, ect // In all the retellings, I've never actually seen it said Jensen fought with the writers OR EVEN TOLD THEM and Jared he was uncomfortable until AFTER he'd changed his mind to agreed
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Bitter Destiel shippers are those kinds of people who fall for IRS telephone scams.
You're correct, Jensen never said in any of his retellings that he fought with writers nor did he tell them or Jared he's having a hard time "digesting" until AFTER he talked to Kripke and was convinced by Kripke that "Carry On" was the right ending for fans. You know, the real fans who watch the show for what it really is: Sam's hero journey with his beloved brother, Dean.
That said, while you're correct that it's Jensen's job to sell the concept, he has also been pitching a Dean-led spinoff for years. Remember his "dream" (X) that he pitched during the SPN press junket?   I didn’t side-eye his PCA campaigns or his pursuit for Dean-centric storylines, but I did raise my eyebrows at his ballsy move to publicly pitch his post-Sam projects in front of Jared and Misha. What does the jenmishperciever's Anon say about that? Hummm?
Actors are always pitching their project ideas, they're just a bit more subtle about it. I'm certain Jensen had hoped the "dream" would catch on with the fans and they would campaign for it. Except not even AAs were down with the idea. Casual fans even less so. Lucky for you I saved the screenshot from the article:
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Reading through jenmishperciever's Anon's self-soothing fanfiction is like watching bread grow old right before your eyes; same delusions we've seen for the past 12 years. Blame Jared for playing Sam who was in the way of a fake fetish ship from becoming canon that Less than 1% of the SPN audience ships. Said Jared's drunken arrest (I refuse to call it a bar fight, it was a group hug gone wrong) could have threaten the ENTIRE filming of the SPN final season while ignoring Anthony Starr's drunken arrest, which by the Anon's logic, would have threaten the ENTIRE filming of The Boys.
Lol they still pretend to believe that Kripke gave the SPN rights to Jensen when Kripke is SUEING WB over profit participation over SPN.
The only thing Jensen cared about with his SPN spinoff was lens crafting, which was why The Winchesters was a Shein version of an AU fanfic. Remember when Jensen told TW cast “don’t fuck it up for me”? After 15-20 years, Jensen is used to lead actors/Jareds doing the heavy lifting in carrying the show and being leader of the cast and crew and he benefitted from the sweet spot as #2 on the call sheet i.e. the good guy who is friends with everyone.
If Jensen keeps trying to be in charge of SPN projects, SPN fans’ reaction is going to be the same as today Marvel fanboys’ reaction every time they hear Kevin Feige’s name: “What did you did do this time you Son of a Bitch!? What train did you derail this time?”
Since Supernatural ended 4 years ago, the bitter Destiel hellers and AAs are stuck in a time loop of step 1 through 4 of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression). S tep 5 is acceptance, which is long delayed due to Jared’s continue success i.e. Walker in it's 4th season and #1 scripted show for CW.
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