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#but they were like say less and actually did it
hemmingshouse · 3 days
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you’re not my pizza / chris sturniolo
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summary: chris had always felt a hatred towards you ever since you two met. little did you know that after your outburst he would finally come to his senses.
warnings: enemies to lovers (sorta?), cursing, yelling, angst, sappy!chris
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
“this is what i told you all about!” you exclaimed happily as you finally found the tiktok you’d been searching for ever since you stepped foot into the sturniolo house hold. you found a tiktok trend you thought the boys would love to do and made it your mission to find the video to show them. “it’s gonna be so fuckin’ funny.”
chris was sat across from you at the kitchen island whilst matt and nick were on both sides of you. you straightened your arms so the two brothers were able to see what was going on. when you three giggled it caused chris to roll his eyes, shaking his head as he internally told himself to shut up instead of making a snarky remark about how annoying you and your unhealthy tiktok obsession were. you slid your phone towards chris with some hesitation, the guy never really checking the video your tiktok played on repeat.
“nah, i feel like we could actually nail that,” matt chuckled as he watched his younger brother, nick wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he patted your head in an agreement to matt’s statement. “chris? are you in?”
the youngest of three looked up from where he was texting away on his phone, unbothered with what you all just talked about and the way the video played on a loop right in front of him. he sighed, “if this is about that stupid tiktok idea of hers, i’m not doing it.”
nick scoffed and raised his eyebrows, “excuse you?” he started as he sat up straight, “drop that attitude motherfucker, at least she’s coming up with ideas whilst you’re sitting here doing absolutely nothing.”
it had always been easy getting along with matt and nick ever since you met them. you met nick in the local park nearby your house when he struggled to get the right angle for his new pictures and asked you to help him out. when you showed him the ones you took, he swore on his life that nobody besides you or his two brothers could take his instagram pictures.
matt showed you around the neighbourhood the first time he hung out with you after nick had told him you moved down from boston to la to persue your art career and didn’t really know anybody just yet. he drove you around, loving the way you two bonded over your love for root beers and pepperoni pizza. matt always found it fascinating to hear your stories about boston because your lives were so similar yet so different. it was crazy how you only lived in the same state and only a few blocks down the road from the sturniolo household, but never crossed paths once.
chris, on the other hand, was another story. because matt and nick took so much interest in their newest friend and tried to build up a good and healthy friendship with you, they sometimes spent less time with chris. he always declined tagging along in the beginning, being satisfied with the alone time and how quiet the house was without his two brothers, but when they started to bring you to their house he switched moods instantly.
you weren’t really sure why chris despised you as much as he did. you often let the boys be and did your own thing, yet chris was always nagging about how his brothers rarely ever spent time with him anymore. you tried to bail out of today as well as the previous time, but matt was already in your driveway to pick you up when you tried to cancel.
it was times like these where you weren’t fazed with anything chris had to say. somehow and some way, that kid always tried to get under your skin and you always let him because you were scared his brothers were going to pick his side and drop you instantly.
but this time, you’ve had enough. you narrowed your eyes at chris as he looked almost proud of himself for spitting out another nasty remark. you ticked your head to the side before speaking up. “you’ve been yapping all fucking day and running your mouth, yet you fail to come up with something that actually makes sense? or something that’s gonna benefit you and your brothers. don’t fucking talk to me like that.”
matt’s mouth dropped and nick let out a yell at your comeback, slapping his hands over his mouth as he looked back and forth between you and chris. the smirk on chris’s lips turned into a thin line, his fingers creating a dent into the pepsi can he was currently holding because of how infuriated you got him by running your mouth.
“what the fuck was that?” he spoke up, eyebrows raised cockily as he leaned forward onto the marble kitchen island. “didn’t you learn to be quiet when it’s not your turn to talk?”
nick was gonna shut his brother’s behaviour down by stepping in and getting a word in, but you shot him a quick look not to. you turned your head back to meet a cold gaze, grin dancing on chris’s lips. “didn’t you learn to say thank you when someone tries to sort out your shit? you’re a fucking asshole and quite frankly, i’m fucking done with how you’re treating me.”
you stepped down from the high bar stool and grabbed your phone off the counter from where matt placed it back in front of you after saving the tiktok video you spent ages searching for after chris didn’t take a single look at it.
“y/n..” matt spoke up quietly, grasping your hand in his when you tried to reach for your house keys. “i’m sorry he’s such a shitface. please stay?”
“he can never help but be an egocentric little shithead when he doesn’t get his way,” nick spoke up disappointingly, running a hand through his hair as he took a look at their youngest brother. “i can’t believe your pathetic ass.”
you shook your head and sent matt an apologetic smile, squeezing his hand quickly before reaching for your purse that hugh from the bar stool. “i was never gonna get through his thick skull to begin with.”
“oh look, she’s walking away from confrontation again!” chris exclaimed as he shook his head in disbelief and sat back in his chair. he earned a smack on the back of the head from nick and a middle finger and deep, disappointed sigh from matt.
“luckily for you, i won’t ever step a foot into this house when you’re in it. you fucking win, christopher. i can’t be fucked with your bullshit anymore.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
it must’ve been a week and a few days since you left the sturniolo household in a rush to get to your uber before anyone noticed you were sobbing your eyes sore on the way out. matt offered to drive you home, but you didn’t want him to get into a fight with chris for choosing your side.
you hated the way chris put you down every time, the way his face would scrunch up in pure disgust whenever you’d say or do something he wasn’t a fan off. you couldn’t brush it off anymore, it had gotten too much.
you just submitted an essay for your art course and decided you’d order yourself a pizza and watch a few episodes of your favourite show to try and relax a little. his words were glued inside your brain and it was hard to not think about them, they truly broke your heart. finding comfort in your favourite food and show seemed like a good thing right now.
matt and nick profusely apologised for their brother’s behaviour. matt had told you they both wouldn’t speak to him until chris came to his senses and would apologise to you. both of you were aware that was a big thing because he despised your guts - why would he ever apologise?
nick was on another level. he had ditched every single plan he and chris made the past few days, just so his brother was able to feel what it felt like to be downgraded the way he did with you. nick’s stubbornness surely made you feel a bit better, but it made you feel a bit torn. even if chris was a major asshole to you, you didn’t want the bond he had with his brothers to get abandoned because of you.
a knock on the stoor caused you to slip out of the trance you were in. you sighed softly and put yourself together before walking towards your front door to collect your doughy pepperoni pizza.
you swung the door open and plastered the smallest smile on your face, one that immediately fell when you saw him standing in the door frame. a sigh fell from your mouth, not wanting to deal with his shit right now. “you’re not my pizza.”
chris bit the inside of his cheek, knowing you were going to get grumpy when he interrupted your peaceful evening. “uhm- no- i’m not no,” he coughed, shaking his head. “hey uhm- i felt the need to apologise.”
you narrowed your eyes, “is that because you’re actually sorry or because you want your brothers to treat you normally again?” you asked him sternly, noticing how his hands slid into the pockets of his black joggers as he rocked back and forth onto his feet.
“i acted like an asshole,” he stated with a nod, “i’ve- like always been an asshole towards you and i’m truly sorry for making you feel the way i always did,” chris spoke softly, “look y/n- we’re so similiar in too many ways and i- i don’t know, it’s just scary to think i’m replaceable.”
“have you been practicing this in the mirror or something? it’s coming out a lil’ too rehearsed,” you yold him seriously, although there was the slightest teasing hint in your voice. “what do you mean by too similar?”
chris was surprised when you stepped out of the way to let him into your apartment, clearing his throat as he took off his converse near the front door. “we share the same interests, have the same fucked up sense of humour and we always yap everyone’s ears off,” he rambled on as you lead him towards the living room, “whenever- i’m- when you’d be at our place i’d always feel a bit left out,” he scratched the back of his neck, “you’re such a fun person to be around and- i don’t know, it felt like matt and nick chose you over me sometimes. i know that’s not your fault at all now, but i took it out on you because that- fuck- that was just the easiest way to deal with it.”
his words caused your heart to break a little. the frown on his face, scrunched up eyebrows and a hurtful look in his eyes made you feel so guilty for being so unaware of this all. you sat him down on the couch, clearing your throat.
“i’m so sorry you feel that way, chris,” you spoke softly, fiddling with the ring in your middle finger, “that was never my intention to begin with. i always hung out with y’all because i found you interesting - like matt and nick always told me we’d get along so well and i find it sad we never truly got around to actually hanging out because you always brushed me off so fucking hard.”
the brunette nodded his head, “i know,” he agreed, “i now know i should’ve gotten to know you before i came to a conclusion. i feel so stupid and i’m so so sorry, i can’t begin to understand how fucked up i made you feel.”
the way he was nervously fidgeting with the material of his joggers and how he ran his hand through his hair three times in the past minute made you realise that he couldn’t be more genuine than he was right now. you made a mental note to thank matt and nick for putting some sense into him as well, but the anxious boy on your couch was now your main priority.
“it’s alright chris,” you smiled softly as you reached forward to brush your thumb across his knuckles in a hope it would calm him down slightly, “thanks for apologising and coming here to explain yourself.”
he chuckled, “matt and nick not talking to me made me think about every encounter we had and i must say - i was kinda proud of you for sticking up for yourself last week.”
it caused you to let out a laugh before chris hesitantly turned his hand so your palms lay flat against each other’s. you were able to see he was trying to figure out if what he was doing was too much or not, so you took it upon yourself to tangle your fingers together with his. “really?” you shook your head with a smile, “was about damn time i scolded at your for being a fucking dick.”
chris laughed and nodded his head in agreement, softly brushing a thumb across your knuckles as a soft rosy blush spread onto his cheeks. you figured it was because you had never been this close before - this being the first time he actually felt physical contact from you. it caused a tingle to run up your spine as chris watched your every move.
chris found it important to read your body language to know if he was crossing the line with you - this new type of friendship making him wonder if it was okay for him to grab your hand or pull you in a friendly hug. he had never found himself wondering what it would be like to be this close to you, your breath fanning his lips and his knee brushing your bare one.
“i’m happy you did,” he spoke up, voice quiet, “we wouldn’t have been here if you didn’t.”
the way your eyes were darting back and forth between his lips and his eyes made your heartbeat race faster than you could ever recall. you weren’t sure why you suddenly felt so fucking attracted to him, but chris showing his vulnerable side must have ignited something in you.
his free hand reached upwards to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, fingertips softly grazing your cheek. you leaned into his touch while keeping eye contact with him, noticing how he hesitantly started leaning in a bit more. “you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, hand sliding down to cup your jaw and a thumb running across your soft lips.
you let out a shaky sigh, feeling yourself get worked up with the way chris was holding your face and keeping eye contract throughout it all. it felt surreal to have him this close after all you two encountered, but it also felt extremely good to let go of the hatred you felt for him - ready to have so many other feelings towards the youngest sturniolo.
“if you want me to stop, i suggest you do it now,” he inhaled sharply, “i don’t know if i can stop after i start.”
his words caused your head to spin as his free hand now cupped the other side of your jaw, thumbs resting on your cheeks. you closed your eyes for a few seconds before you looked at him again, “i don’t want you to stop, chris.”
the way you finally called him by his nickname more than once today made him feel all giddy inside as you usually only called him christopher or the occasional motherfucker when you were pissed at him.
he quickly licked his lips as he felt your fingers curl around his wrists, nose lightly nudging yours to test the waters slightly. when he noticed your breath hitch in your throat, chris knew you wanted it as much as he did.
his lips brushed yours every so slightly, loving the way your lip balm slightly got smudged because of his actions. chris was about to deepen the kiss by fully pressing his lips to yours, but got rudely interrupted when the doorbell rang.
he let out a groan and it caused you to giggle, still holding onto his wrists. “i reckon you’re staying over for dinner then?”
✧・゚: *✧・゚
do we do a smutty part two? ;)
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ayacokeandpepsi · 2 days
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Heya gurllll!
I don’t remember if you’d make a the walk in thing (parents or a member walking in when u have sex) if u haven’t can u do it? And if u have can u make, Y/n and Riki being in a relationship and the other members wants to have “the talk”
love yaaa ❤️💋
This is kinda long lmao
Cw: smut, fingering, protected sex, making love not sex
It started off as Jake pulling Riki to the side to chat with him about “relationship stuff”, Heeseung being too awkward to bring it up with him.
“So I know you really like her, but are you.. yknow, being smart?” Jake tried to make the air less awkward as he asked Riki.
“Smart?” Riki questioned, oh god, did Jake really have to spell it out for him, god this was embarrassing for both of them. “Riki, are you… using condoms?” Jake winced as he brought his fingers to his temple, looking at the ceiling.
“What, oh, well yes! Totally,” Riki said, not wanting to bring up that you and him haven’t actually started yet. Jake relaxed his shoulders. “Okay so now we don’t have to have this talk again and we can just pretend it never happened, Kay?” Jake sighs out, patting Riki on the shoulder before walking away to join the others.
It left an idea in Riki’s mind. He should be embarrassed but, these days anything could turn him on. You tying up your hair, bending over, wearing a skirt, touching his arm, even seeing you sweat while working out. It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex, he just didn’t know how to suggest it, and with his busy schedule, it didn’t give much time to ponder complicated questions about relationships. But it was like Jake’s lecture was a sign, something telling Riki to make you his, make you feel good.
It didn’t help when as soon as he got back to his hotel room, the shower was on and your clothes were discarded on the floor near the bathroom door. He knows he shouldn’t, but seeing your used panties and bra on the floor awakened something in him. He stared at your underwear as he palmed himself through his baggy jeans, trying not to make his pleasure audible. The sound of the shower shutting off and your footprints coming to the door made him composed and act like he just got there, but seeing you in only a towel, that was way too small, it made him throb. His gaze burned into you, causing you to let out a nervous chuckle. “Hi Riki.” You giggle. Feeling bold, you got out your pjs and laid them out and dropped the towel, exposing your naked body to him. Riki’s mouth flew open, averting his eyes to the ceiling as his heartbeat grew faster.
The cool air made your nipples hard, it almost gave goosebumps to your skin, but was quickly replaced by a warm blush below your belly and in your cheeks. Instead of putting on your pjs, you decide to try out a new and tiny silk lingerie set, a cami and some shorts that didn’t cover your ass, in a blue white color. After slipping it on, you look over to Riki, his eyes not on you. You laugh. “You can look now,” he cautiously turned his head and his jaw dropped again, not expecting you to be in the tiniest pj set, seeing your nipples poke out from under the thin silk of your lacy cami that didn’t go lower then your ribcage. And the shorts, high rise to your navel but they ended right where your crotch was, the back not any better, it covering maybe half of your ass. His face was blushed now, if he wasn’t before.
“You-are you going to sleep in that?” Riki says. “Yeah, why? Do you not like it?” You tease. “No-I like it a lot,” he replies. “It’s kind of hot, I usually sleep in boxers, do you mind?” He says, already slipping his shirt off. You shake your head.
He takes off his oversized jeans along with his necklaces and some bracelets. He notices you staring, he chuckles smoothly. “You like what you see huh?” He grins. You roll your eyes and look away. Before you can realize, Riki grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him, sitting on the shared hotel bed, holding your waist and dipping down to kiss you. He giggles when you wrap your arms around his neck, and play with his hair as he continues to kiss you. “You taste so good, hmm,” he sighs into the kiss, making you laugh.
He deepens the kiss by gently biting your bottom lip as his hands sneak up under your cami, his thumb stroking over your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts. And he knows, he grins as he feels you tense and close your legs. He pulls you into his lap now, and you can feel his hard cock against the lower part of your back as he continues to kiss you, adjusting your position so you’re facing him but straddling his thighs.
He groans as you unintentionally grind on him, his grip on your waist moving down to your hips, moving them in sync with his own hip movements, making you whine out. He chuckles again as he pulls away, kissing your neck slowly, his warm breath tickling your collar bone. He looks up at you for permission and then lifts up your cami, exposing your breasts, which he holds and starts to kiss, making you moan. His plump lips wrap around your nipples, as he groans into them.
You take off your top, kissing him as he moves your hips against his own. You move his hand near the inside of your thighs, letting him feel how wet you were for him. His ears are red as he palms your heat, his thumb rubbing over your clit experimentally. He studies your reactions, looking up at your facial expressions each time he circles your clit, your eyes closed in pleasure. You pull off him enough to take off your tiny shorts, showing him all of you. His eyes are glued to your pussy, cherishing the sight of how it shines in the hotel lighting, from the wetness. You guide his fingers inside of you, whining as he moves his ring and middle finger in and out of you.
The heel of his palm hit your clit every time his fingers went in and out of you, adding to the stimulation. You threw your head back as Riki continued to play with you above his thigh. You bring your head down again, “Riki, I want you, please,” you motion for his cock that was unbelievably hard at the moment. He smiles as he pulls the back of your neck in to kiss you, it was slow and soft and sloppy. You pull away, “Riki, look in my purse pocket, there should be a condom,” you giggle as he quickly reaches for your purse and finds one. He slips off his boxers, leaving both of your completely naked. He slides the condom on his length as you gently straddle his thigh, kissing his neck and playing with his hair, making him go crazy. He guides you down on his cock, both of you moaning as he fills you, his brows furrowed in pleasure as he focuses on thrusting up into you while holding your waist. His pace was amateur, understandably, but it was sloppy in the best way, this wasn’t sex, this was making love.
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lydiimae · 2 days
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Guardian Angel
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Pairing:
MDI 18+
Warnings: Opium powder use, mentions of drinking, high Benedict, Benedict being an insecure cutie pie, fluffy fluff hehe
WordCount: 2.2k
A.N: Hello my loves! I'm sorry for my lack of posting, I've been sick and I've finally started work. I am still trying to find a schedule where I can post and have time for other things. For now, have some lovely Benny fluff while we all wait for part two of Season 3 to come out. I love you! <3 P.S. Thank you for 200 followers OMG I love you all so much.
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Marrying Benedict Bridgerton was the easiest decision you have ever had to make. The two of you grew up alongside each other, the rumors of a proposal coming when you debuted, and the actual proposal occurring only two months into the season. It was an easy choice, a choice you were happy you made. He made you feel alive. He filled a part of your soul you did not know was missing before you met him. Even in the hardest times of your marriage.
Benedict, like many other men, has insecurities. He keeps them hidden well behind an air of confidence, but you know better. He never was jealous of Anthony, but rather scared that he would always be looked at as the lesser son. The spare. He just did not understand what you saw in him. He saw himself as a man without purpose, a man who could not provide the life you wanted. He believed you when you said that was not true, but there was always a little voice in the back of his mind that made him doubt himself.
You knew this well. He was less talented at hiding his feelings when he was a child and had shared many of them in your many late nights on the hills of Aubrey Hall. Though now, these insecurities only rear their ugly heads when Benedict has had a few too many to drink. Or, as is the case tonight, too much of the strange tea Colin buys him.
You get out of the carriage with your maid and footman, John, after he had come to get you claiming that Benedict had had far too much tea. A result of drunken carelessness by his younger brother. You rush up the front steps and into your townhouse, taking off your cloak before bouncing up the stairs toward his studio. You sigh as you walk in to find your bohemian husband on the floor of the studio with a canvas in front of him, smearing paint on it with his fingers without a care in the world. It would be an adorable sight if you were not worried out of your mind.
You walk to him and sit down next to him, watching as his glassy eyes sweep over the floor before meeting your own. "Ah! My love!" He exclaims, his demeanor immediately brightening as he drapes his paint-stained arms around your middle, his cheek resting against your shoulder. You hum, not bothering with the wet paint that stains the dark blue fabric of your gown as you wrap your arms around him. "I have been seeing visions, darling." He mumbles into your skin as you run your fingers through his curls.
"Have you now?" You murmur as you press a kiss to his forehead, making his lips turn up into a loopy smile. The most adorable sight you have seen in a while. "Mm. Colorful visions. I had to paint them as quick as I could, had to feel the smoothness of my oils on the canvas." He says, pulling back to look at you. You grin when his eyes focus on yours, one of his paint-covered hands coming to rest on your cheeks leaving a beautiful mess of blues and purples in its wake.
He studies your face for a moment longer before crawling, quite clumsily, over to a clear canvas. "Benedict?" You call softly, moving to sit next to him as you watch a beautiful image come to life on the canvas. It wasn't anything, but at the same time, there was something so divine about how he is painting.
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After about an hour he stops, looking up at you with that darling crooked smile. "Look, Y/n. It is you. How I see you." He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. You smile and look down at the mess of colors for a moment, believing that this canvas full of swirls might truly be how your husband looks at you in this state. "It is stunning, my love." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his brow before returning your attention to the painting. "Shall I explain it to you?" He slurs, his attention solely on you.
You hum and nod, returning your attention back to him. He smiles giddily, laying back and pulling you on top of him. "It is as if... I tried to capture a dream." He slurs, pressing his lips to your nose. "A whisper of our love, tangled in colors and chaos. This mess of lines and splashes, it is you and me, dancing through the storms and the sunbeams. It is...it is us." He stumbles, weaving paint-streaked fingers through your hair. Even in his most inebriated moments, he never ceases to take your breath away.
With a wavering smile and glassy eyes, he gestures to the canvas, his voice thick with emotion, "You see, my love, it is as if you are my guardian angel. This painting...it is not just colors. It is you. You are in every swirl, every splash...." He grins, watching your eyes shimmer with tears. "You are the light in the chaos, guiding me, saving me from myself. Each stroke is like your touch, soft but powerful, keeping me safe, lifting me higher. It is a tribute to you, my protector, my guiding star. My love, my guardian angel." He mumbles, and you break.
Tears begin rolling down your cheeks and you bury your face into his neck, making him laugh, his hands smearing paint up and down the back of your gown as he tries to comfort you. "You need not be saved from yourself, Benedict." You whisper after a moment, pulling back and wiping your eyes. "My God, if only you could see yourself as beautifully as I see you." You whisper, pulling him up into a sitting position. "Y/n... I have only ever needed saving from myself." He slurs, though even through his inebriation you can sense the deep sadness that lingers somewhere deep within his soul.
"You are the most remarkable man I have ever known, and I am utterly captivated by every part of you—your brilliance, your kindness, your passion. To me, you are perfect, even in your moments of doubt and struggle." You whisper, cupping his cheeks. "You are my world, and I am here to stand by you through every storm." You vow, brushing away the tears that have spilled down his cheeks with your thumbs.
"My Y/n." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours as he sniffles. "My Benedict." You return, sitting on his lap as his arms encircle your waist. You shift his head into the crook of your neck and allow him to cry for a moment, rocking him side to side as he does. He rarely ever shows this kind of emotion. In a way it is comforting, to know that the man you married still feels just as intensely as he did when you were first wed. You press a kiss to his head and he nuzzles your neck.
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You sit with him on the floor of his studio for about an hour, and when he finally calms down you help him to the master bedroom. He falls back on the bed without even a sound of protest, moving his arms so you can help him undress. You grin and bend down, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you unbutton his shirt. Once it is off, you move onto his trousers. Then, when he is completely bare, you tuck his already sleeping form into bed.
You walk into the closet, laying his paint-stained clothes out on the chair for the maids to collect in the morning before changing into a nightgown yourself. Once you are ready for bed, you crawl in next to your husband, combing your fingers through his hair and watching as he smiles in his sleep. You wish that he will remember every word of what you said in the morning, but the logical part of you knows that he will not. Even so, you shall keep saying the things you did tonight until he believes them. You close your eyes, falling into a slumber right next to him, your fingers still curled into his hair.
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He wakes far before you do at the crack of dawn, a usual occurrence when he has overindulged. He groans, rubbing a hand over his aching forehead. He cannot remember getting into bed or the events that transpired before he did, though he remembers bits and pieces. The image of the deep blue gown you came home wearing, the way your hair fell around your shoulders when he ran his hands through it, the sparkle of tears in your eyes...
He sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, his eyes immediately drifting over to your sleeping figure. He grins at the image before him. You look like an angel, sleeping on your stomach with your hair sprawled against your back and your lips parted ever so slightly. His grin only widens when you let out a soft sigh in your sleep, your eyebrows furrowing. He hums as he bends down, kissing down the notches of your spine.
You wake at the tingly feeling it sends through your body, grinning at the warmth that blooms in your chest. "Good morning." He murmurs from above you, brushing your hair out of your face just as you open your eyes. "Good morning." You whisper back, your hand coming up to rest over his. He looks heavenly, the morning light from the windows behind him making him look like a God. "You are positively beautiful in the morning, Ben." You hum as you stretch out, and he laughs. "No more beautiful than you, my heart." He returns, taking you into his arms and pulling you up to a sitting position.
You smile as he sits you in his lap, your arms settling loosely around his neck. "Do you remember anything about last night?" You murmur and he shakes his head, stroking your hair. "Just bits and pieces, I suppose." He hums, yawning as you press a kiss to his forehead. "You made a beautiful painting and then made me cry with your explanation." You smile and he laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "I am happy to know that my poetic tendencies do not fade when I am intoxicated." He grins and you giggle. "If anything they only grow stronger." You return, closing your eyes as the two of you lean on each other.
After a moment of comfortable silence, you decide to bring up the second part of last night. "You also expressed some insecurities, Ben. Like you always do." You whisper as you open your eyes. His eyes meet yours and he sighs, pulling back to rest his chin upon your head. "You need not worry about me, my love" He murmurs and you shake your head, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. "I do need to worry about you, Benedict. You are my husband. The man I am so hopelessly enamored with, the man I adore even when he is mumbling gibberish on the floor of his studio." You whisper.
He averts his gaze to your lap, playing with your fingers. "I said something foolish when I was intoxicated, Y/n. It is truly not worrisome. I do it often." He mumbles. "You said you needed saving from yourself, that is incredibly worrisome." You whisper and he sighs, looking up at you. "What if I am not enough?" He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. "Whatever do you mean?" You breathe and he shrugs. "Just that. What if I am not enough, for you? What if you wake up one day and realize that I am a man with no purpose who creates silly paintings in his studio all day?" He asks.
"Benedict. You mustn't say that." You whisper, getting teary. When he begins to speak, you shake your head bringing him closer. "When I look at you, I see a man of incredible talent, passion, and depth. Your paintings are not silly; they are a reflection of your soul, a testament to your creativity and the beauty you see in the world. Each brushstroke is a piece of your heart, and I am in awe of the masterpieces you create. Every single one." You whisper, running your thumb along his cheekbone. He gives you a wobbly smile as he tries not to cry.
"But beyond your art, it is you—your kindness, your compassion, your strength, and your gentle spirit—that I cherish most. You give my life meaning and fill my days with joy and love. Your presence is a gift, and I am eternally grateful for every moment we share. I adore you more than any star in the sky. My love, you mustn't doubt that my love for you will never ebb." You continue and he smiles through tears as you pepper his face with kisses. You stay like that for a while, his forehead resting against your shoulder as you let him cry.
"It seems I married a woman who is just as poetic as I." He whispers after a long while, making you burst out in laughter. He pulls back with a crooked grin, peppering your face with kisses now. "My love, my light...." He whispers.
"How I adore you, my guardian angel." He murmurs.
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hgfictionwriter · 24 hours
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Maybe This Time - Part Three
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie and you finally get some 1:1 time together (thanks Janine!). You work to build new memories together, but hurt from the past needs to be addressed.
Warnings: None. Temporary, very light angst, but mostly sweet fluff.
A/N: Part two and one. Part Four will likely be the finale.
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"What do you think? Should I go for it?" 
Jessie smirked as she saw the screenshot you sent her of her jersey in the Thorns' site shopping cart. 
"I don't know. I thought you said that was too big a commitment." 
"I did. But I was rather impressed at the last game. And we went for drinks after, I finally got to meet Janine – so you know, points for that. And if I think about it, I'm like an OG fan. But if you think I should get a different jersey..." 
Jessie laughed under her breath, her smirk now a full blown smile as she read your message while she ate lunch. The conversation she'd been on the periphery of carried on as she ate another bite before typing out a reply. 
"Oh yeah? Post-game drinks were a hit, huh? And you know, my stats are only getting better with each game 😉 And let's be honest, I'd be pretty offended if you got someone else's jersey. Except Sinc's. Because, you know, GOAT." 
"Oh, well, say no more. You had me at 'stats' lol. Done. I'll pick it up before next game." 
"Lol I figured. My plan all along – I know how much you love stats." 
"You know me so well. I have to say, I'm kind of tempted to modify the jersey. Add some sort of patch or stitching, 'Yay sports!'" 
Jessie laughed out loud, less discrete than before.  
"Don't you dare lol. I've taught you better than that. But hey, if you ask nicely, I could actually sign it for you 😎" 
"I'm sure I have an old group paper kicking around with your signature on it. I need to be able to wash this thing lol. What else can you offer though?" 
Jessie swallowed her food hard, the bite getting caught temporarily in her throat with a wince. Okay, no signature – how humbling. However, there was an opening. 
She stared at her phone temporarily before a loud clearing of someone's throat caught her attention. She lifted her gaze with a curious frown on her face to see Janine staring expectantly at her. Jessie instinctively tilted the phone inwards towards her body. 
"I don't even have to spy to know who you're texting," the blonde said rather self-satisfied. Jessie looked around, heat building in her face already as she hoped Janine was the only one focused on her.  
"Yeah?" Jessie retorted, attempting to appear as unfazed as possible. "You should be pleased. You keep pushing me to text her." She cracked a smirk. "Now that you don't think she's the devil incarnate for 'stringing me along' in university." 
"Oh I don't think you need to be pushed," Janine teased with a wicked grin. "And I never said she was the devil incarnate." She lifted a hand to her chest in exaggeration. "I merely questioned things. But you're right," she relented, "she's quite lovely. And she gives you butterflies, and she makes you blush - more than usual - and you try to act all nonchalant and it's just too adorable for words." 
"Uh huh," Jessie muttered with a flat look. Janine leaned in excitedly. 
"And I have to say, I got the sense that she and I could riff off of each other and just tease the heck out of you, so that really sealed the deal for me." 
Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need in my life." She'd never admit that it actually excited her that her best friend and you could get along so well. If – and it was a huge 'if' - anything evolved between you two, it was key that you got along with her friends and family.  
She started thinking about how well you got on with her parents and sister – you'd met before during your days at UCLA and they loved you. She also remembered how disappointed they'd seemed when she eventually told them that you two didn't speak anymore.  
"Well, since you're so invested," Jessie went on, rolling her eyes facetiously once more as she opened her phone again and turned it to Janine, "what should I say?" 
Janine squinted as she leaned in to read and it only took a moment for her expression to light up. Before Janine could say anything, Jessie snatched the phone back and placed it on her lap with a frown.  
"I don't want to hear it," she pre-empted the girl. 
"What?" Janine said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I am totally supportive of the flirtation between you two." She ignored Jessie's look of complaint and cut off her protest. "Her shutting down your autograph is pretty hilarious, by the way," she said with a marginally apologetic look. "Not smooth on your part – you know she's not impressed by your elite football skills. Don't lean on your Jessie the Footballer identity." 
"I wasn't," Jessie nearly hissed, trying to keep her voice down and avoid drawing attention. "I was joking. Half joking." 
"You were flirting, or at least attempting to. She left you an opening here though. So, you should ask her out." 
"I'm not asking her out," Jessie pouted, her shoulders rounding as she scooched closer to the table. She huffed upon seeing the scrutinizing look her friend gave her. "We're still getting to know each other again." 
"Fine. Don't define it as a date, then," Janine dismissed with a wave. She leaned in, folding her arms on the table. "Ask her to go for dinner." 
"Basic," Jessie remarked as she sat up and crossed her arms in disapproval. She frowned. "Plus that's too date-like." 
"Fine," Janine said curtly. "How about a hike?" 
Jessie hummed and hawed, unconvinced. "Maybe someday. Doesn't seem right at this point though." Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation. ��
"Well, what did you two used to do back at UCLA?" 
Jessie shrugged. She saw the frustration Janine was telegraphing at how unhelpful she was being and jumped in. "We went to drop-in art classes sometimes." 
Janine held a hand up to the sky. "Thank you. Finally – something I can work with. Okay! Let's find a drop-in class for you two to go to then." She pulled out her phone and started browsing before shooting a look at Jessie as an aside. "Oh, and dinner's too date-llke, but an art class isn't? Okay." 
Jessie grunted and pulled out her phone as well to look.  
"Here," Jessie announced after a couple of minutes. "This'll work. She enjoyed painting." 
Without further consultation, Jessie began to type out a message to you. She bit back a laugh at how Janine's head was bobbing around periodically trying to peek at the message from across the table.  
"Don't send it yet! I want to see it," Janine pouted.  
"You are not writing my messages for me," Jessie told her pointedly, but gave a heavy sigh as she turned her phone for the blonde to see. An affronted look crossed Jessie face as Janine let out a guffaw and snatched the phone out of her hand.  
"No," Janine simply said with a wag of her finger before she started typing. Jessie reached out for the phone, but Janine turned her body away. Jessie clamored more, but stopped as soon as she noted some of their teammates glancing their way. She shrunk back into her seat, a hand rubbing the side of her face as she spoke in a harsh whisper.   "What are you doing." 
"Jeff. Relax. I would never lead you astray," Janine assured her. "And this is so very satisfying for me since I never got to help you with any of this during uni. Cause let me tell you, if I had been involved, you two definitely would've been living happily ever after." 
Jessie breathed in exasperation. "Please. Give me my phone back." 
"Okay, okay. Here," Janine said, all humour from her tone gone as she now offered Jessie a sincere smile. "Read it over, but I think this is good." 
Jessie gave her a lingering stare as she took back her phone and let out another withering sigh before reading.  
"Funny you should ask. I was thinking about how much I missed art classes together. How about I take you to one of the drop-in painting classes across town when I'm back from Houston?"  
Jessie lifted her gaze to meet Janine's and she studied the blonde for a few moments before relenting with an inaudible sigh. It was better than her original "I don't know. Paint class?" reply. She hit send and released another heavy breath as she tucked the phone away once more.  
"You're welcome," Janine said with a saccharine smile. Jessie gave her a fake smile in return, pulling a laugh out of the girl. "Hey, let's remember which one of us is engaged and which one of us is perpetually single." 
"Ouch," Jessie said with a light laugh.  
"I'm just teasing," Janine went on. "I genuinely hope this turns into something for you. Considering you've only come back into each other's lives, what, like a couple months ago? You two seem pretty solid already. And you seem happier." 
Jessie wanted to give a dry retort of some kind, but Janine was right. You two talked every day now and the chemistry you had in university was still very much present. And the depth you once had in your friendship was something that was quite easily and naturally being broached again. Even if you'd both grown and changed, the cores of who you were still aligned well and fit together. Too well. 
She'd more or less dismissed the spark of emotions that came up during your initial interactions as some sort of emotional muscle memory, but the feelings were proving to not be fleeting or diminishing.  
If anything, her feelings for you were growing. And this time they felt different, too. Heavier, deeper in some way. She was a more realized person now, as were you, and it made the connection between you more substantial. Less juvenile.  
Her phone buzzed. She opened her lock screen.  
"That sounds like a lot of fun! Let's do it." 
————
By the time your paint date night came around, Jessie was nearly buzzing with anticipation. It wasn’t an official date, of course, but she hadn’t seen you since that night after the game, and truthfully, it felt like it had been too long.
She was early - as usual - but as she rounded the corner to the building, she bit back a smile upon seeing you waiting. You were always early too, which she appreciated.
“Hey.” Jessie greeted as she approached. Again, she had to tamp her smile when you beamed back at her.
“Hey, good to see you,” you said as you stepped in for a hug, which Jessie reciprocated. “I love your shirt,” you continued when you stepped back.
“Oh,” Jessie said with a slight frown and a mild laugh as she looked down at herself in question. “Thanks,” she said as she gave a shrug and fought off a blush. She looked you up and down, not entirely discretely. “I like your outfit.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately and gave her a look. “You don’t need to reciprocate my compliment. But thank you.”
“I legitimately like your outfit,” Jessie retorted, her pitch rising and pulling a laugh out of you as you both walked towards the building. Jessie took a few quick steps and grabbed the door, holding it open. “After you.”
“Such service. Thank you,” you said, both teasing and appreciative. Jessie didn’t wink, but she did give a teasing lift of her eyebrows as you passed.
As the instructor gave their directions for the lesson, Jessie found herself distracted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. The whole lesson carried on like that, really. Jessie had to make a point to not fall behind as she’d uncharacteristically lose concentration. The worst, well, best, moments being when she'd lean over feigning critical assessment of your work when really she just wanted to be close.
By the end, she was decently satisfied with the forest landscape she’d painted. However, she felt it paled in comparison to the ocean sunset you’d crafted.
“I love your colours. And the little cabin you added is great,” you told her as you were both leaving, canvases in hand.
“Well good,” she said as she got to a clearing on the sidewalk and stopped to turn to you. “Consider it my gift to you,” she went on as she held it out to you.
“Jessie,” you said sweetly with a smile as you took it and looked it over more thoroughly. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. It’s beautiful. And bonus - I get my Jessie Fleming signature, but on a far rarer painting as opposed to a jersey,” you laughed. “And what a coincidence. I painted this for you.”
Jessie looked at you for a moment before a smile broke out across her face as she belatedly took the painting you held out.
“Thank you,” she said softly as she studied the image. She frowned in realization as she lifted her eyes to you. “Is this the same beach from our photo?”
You nodded. “It is. Nice eye.”
“Who knew you were so sentimental?” Jessie teased.
“Apparently not you,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but gave a small laugh. “Come on. It’s been a while, but you know me better than that.”
Jessie was quiet for a moment as she took you in. She eventually nodded. “I know.”
A small lull fell over you both before you asked. “So, what now? Do you have to leave?”
“No.” Jessie spoke quickly with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. How about you?”
You shook your head in return. “Same. Well, it’s beautiful out tonight. Want to just go for a walk? We can drop these off at my car first,” you proposed as you held up the painting.
“Sure. Sounds great.”
After a short detour, you both began your stroll along the quiet, tree-lined street.
“Thanks for suggesting that class,” you said. “I don’t really get to paint or pursue creative hobbies as much anymore. It was nice to make a point of it. I can’t imagine you have much of an opportunity to focus on things like that anymore, hm?”
Jessie sighed quietly in contemplation and gave a shrug.
“Not extensively, no. But we do lots of team building, so sometimes we’ll do artsy things. And I can do hobbies and such in my down time, whether during the week or between seasons.”
She looked over to see you giving her a soft smile.
“What?” She asked.
“Nothing really. Just kind of crazy how everything turned out. You’ve achieved so much and your life is so impressive.”
Jessie was about to interject with a compliment for you, but you carried on.
“Are you happy with how things turned out?” You asked with a slight cock of your head.
“I-um, yeah.” Jessie stammered slightly, caught off guard by your question. “I mean, yeah it’s been incredible. More amazing than I could’ve ever pictured. And I know I’m very lucky.”
“You’re not lucky, Jess. You’ve worked exceptionally hard.”
She huffed lightly. “Yes, but luck is involved too. Lots of people work hard and still don’t get half the opportunities I’ve had.”
“I suppose,” you relented. “But you’ve made the most of those opportunities and haven’t taken them for granted.”
“That’s true. But look at you. You’ve worked so hard. And I know what you’ve been up against, but you’ve risen above and built a great life for yourself,” Jessie emphasized.
“Thank you,” you accepted with a half smile. Jessie knew the ins and outs of your family dynamics - something few people truly knew. You smiled more fully at her. “And look at us now. We both left LA and then found ourselves in the same city again and got to reconnect,” you finished with a laugh. "It sounds strange, but it really feels like in some ways like no time has passed. Not really, anyway. Like you and I were able to pick up where we left off."
You let out a quick sigh, giving a deep shrug as you did so. Your eyes remained trained on the ground as you two walked. "I mean, we talked the other week about my family and it just felt so different. Like, I've told recent friends or girlfriends my history and everything, and they listen and they 'get it', but it's not the same. That conversation with you – via text, no less – had more depth and weight than any comparable conversation with my exes or current friends. You were there. You know it – and me, I guess - inside and out. And even if I retell things, it's just not the same." 
Jessie nodded, watching you. It did feel like yesterday when she was sitting next to you on your bed, sobs wracking your body after one confrontation too many with your family. Normally, Jessie was so analytical and tentative about her physical contact with you, but the second you started crying she put her arms around you without hesitation and you leaned in, resting your head on your shoulder as she held you. That was the first time, but it wasn't the last.  
Looking back on it, maybe your girlfriends did have good reason to dislike her. 
"I know what you mean," she told you. "It's different. I mean, it's the same with you in a lot of ways. You were there for me during some critical points – big decisions in my life and you understood who I was and who I wanted to be." 
You smiled at her fondly. You looked ready to say something and Jessie waited. A moment passed and you exhaled, saying, "It really meant a lot – having you in my life and the support you gave me back then. I hope you know that." 
"I know," Jessie accepted with a smile of her own. "And likewise." 
Her mind drifted. She should probably just leave things be, but not speaking her mind is what held her back all those years before. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings if things were going to be different this time. She took a breath.  
"You know, I was really shocked when we saw each other here." She paused briefly. "I don't know. We hadn't talked in so long. I think I'd relegated myself to assuming we'd never see each other or ever talk again. Despite how important we were to one another at some point." 
Her statement seemed to give you pause, the mild surprise evident on your face. You eventually glanced down at the street as you two continued to walk. 
"Yeah. That's true, I guess," you conceded, your voice soft. 
Jessie studied you, unsatisfied with the response you gave. She pushed.  
"I knew we wouldn't be able to stay as close as we were. That was inevitable with us living so far away from one another, but I don't think I expected contact to fall apart as quickly as it did." You didn't reply right away and she went on with an ironic laugh. "We went from talking all day every day, to a few times a week with a video call scattered in there, to the odd message every couple of weeks, then just texts on birthdays and at Christmas, to nothing at all." 
She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but she didn't expect you to turn to her with a perplexed frown.  
"Yeah. It did taper off pretty quickly."  
Despite the time that'd passed, Jessie still knew when you were telling half-truths. She gave a bit of an empty chuckle. "What else are you thinking?" 
You returned her laugh with a mild look. "I don’t know. I'm just kind of confused, I suppose." Jessie frowned.  
"About what?" She questioned. Faint alarm bells went off in her head when you stopped walking. She stilled her movements as well and you turned to one another on the sidewalk.  
You took a moment to gather your thoughts. You spoke with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 
"I know it was me who stopped replying right away to messages – I don't deny that – but you weren't exactly giving me a lot to work with." You took a breath, dropping your shoulders before you spoke further. "Honestly? It was kind of feeling one-sided. Yeah, you replied, but a lot of your replies were brief and noncommittal. And when I asked if everything was okay you just told me you were busy. Which," you let out a slightly rueful laugh, "is absolutely fair. You were building this brand new, big life. Which is exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't begrudge you at all. I don’t know." You shrugged and averted your gaze momentarily. "I guess things just started to feel off." 
Jessie exhaled quietly as she processed your reply. What you were saying wasn't false. It had been so long it was easy for Jessie to just recall the end result – that you'd stopped replying altogether. That you'd given up on her; on the connection you'd both built for years. 
Standing here now though, if she was honest with herself, it was true that Jessie grew distant in her messages - purposefully so - knowing it would drive you away. What was she supposed to do? You two were never going to be together. And being friends was so incredibly hard sometimes because it was never just friendship for her. There was always this bittersweet feeling to everything and now that you were on completely different paths, there was an inevitable conclusion. Yet, she struggled to cut herself off cold. So instead, she took the coward's way out.  
Jessie scratched the back of her head. "I was busy," she repeated. She contemplated doubling down, but thought better of it. "And I guess I was finding it hard. We were building two very different lives." 
There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't. What would be the point? Her chest panged when you gave her a sad smile.  
"I know," you accepted with a sadness in your eyes. "And I really wanted that for you. I just - it was hard to not feel like a nuisance. Like some obligation. So I just stopped writing."
Jessie's frown deepened. She knew all those years ago that she had to be hurting you, but she could lie to herself about it and focus selfishly on herself. Seeing you talk about it in front of her wasn't something she'd anticipated.
"I didn't mean for that," Jessie said. "And I never stopped caring about you," she compromised. 
"Yeah. I never stopped caring about you, either," you reciprocated in a subdued manner. Despite her role in everything, Jessie was still harbouring hurt from all those years prior and she felt compelled to push on. Sure, she'd pushed you away, but you'd let her. She erased you from her life little by little, day by day and you allowed it.
"Funny how quickly things change sometimes," Jessie went on. She didn't mean to scoff, but she did. "You didn't even tell me when you and [y/ex] broke up. You didn't even tell me you were having problems."  
In years past, Jessie was your sounding board for all your girl troubles. She remembered it well – it was painful. Having to hear you either swoon or – more often – complain about your girlfriends. Hearing how they disappointed or frustrated you when Jessie knew she could love you better. Just thinking back to it stoked a fire in Jessie's chest again. While she had genuinely loved you and cared about your well-being, she'd vowed to never get stuck in that dynamic again.  
You cracked a smirk. "It just seemed frivolous to bother you with something like that at that point." 
Another pang in Jessie's chest. "Well," she kicked idly at the concrete beneath her, "I would've been there for you if you ever needed me. I hope you knew that." 
You sighed and gave a hollow laugh as you pushed your hair back, causing Jessie to get momentarily distracted by the way the rays from the street light hit your face.  
"I know," you said quietly before meeting her gaze. "And I hope you knew the same about me. I know you're surrounded by people who love you, but," you shrugged listlessly, "I'd be there for you, too." 
Before Jessie could respond you gave her another smirk. 
"Besides. Though you never said anything explicit, I know you didn't like her. And by the end I could see why, too. No point wasting any of our limited conversation talking about her." 
Jessie bit back a smirk, but knew her eyes betrayed her. "Well, I guess that's poetic. Your girlfriends never liked me and I never liked them." 
Despite the mounting tension in your conversation, you laughed and gave her a nod. Jessie didn't return your laugh though. She gave you a solemn look. 
"You always deserved better than them. I know some of them were just fine, some of them even good, but they didn't seem earnest enough and they didn't love you enough." 
You were taken aback by her sudden proclamation. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.  
Jessie never understood how they didn't worship the ground you walked on. She practically did, even if she didn't show it. While those girls showed they cared through superficial acts like a generic bouquet of flowers, Jessie listened. In many ways. It was obvious to Jessie that they didn't really get you – not the way she did. And if they were so in tune with you, then why was it her you came to when things were hard or you were scared or even hopeful. If she'd been your girlfriend, she would've given you everything you needed and more. They clearly didn't. 
You eventually gave a soft huff and offered Jessie a quiet smile. 
"You've always been very observant. And very thoughtful. I get it now. There's a reason I'm single now. I don't want to settle anymore," you told her. 
Jessie was quiet before giving a nod of acceptance.  
"I'm glad to hear that." 
You both started walking again, though neither of you spoke right away. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it felt different now; hopeful.  
"I'm sorry for how things ended," you said as she glanced over at Jessie as you two strolled through the quiet street. "You've always been really important to me – regardless of whether we were in contact or not. I don't want to say that I wish things had been different, because I really don't see the point in regretting anything, but I will say I'm very grateful that we've had this chance to reconnect and rebuild." You paused. "I've really missed you. I didn't realize how much." 
"I'm really sorry, too," Jessie said, a smile spreading across her face. "And I agree – we can't change the past, but I also appreciate the chance to be friends again. I've missed you, too." 
She swallowed as she contemplated whether to add more. The lull that naturally formed told her to forge ahead.
"And you were never a nuisance or an obligation. I'm really sorry it came across that way."
"Awww, Jessie," you said in a teasing voice, lifting your conversation up again. You paused your steps and Jessie stopped and turned to you in question. "Come on," you beckoned as you waved her over and brought out your phone. "We need a new photo together." 
Jessie didn't fight it. Instead, she smiled at you and walked over to stand next to you. You leaned into her and Jessie found her hand naturally gravitated to your waist. It rest there before Jessie could even realize it, but before she could fret, you looked back at her with a smile before facing forward again. 
You took the photo and immediately opened up your messages with Jessie to send it to her. Jessie belatedly realized her hand was still on you and she pulled it back, holding her hands behind her. 
"There," you announced. "Now we can start rebuilding our collection. Portland memories – not just UCLA anymore." 
Jessie laughed and held up her phone, pointing the camera at you. 
"No, come on," you whined immediately and she laughed further.  
"Hey, this is part of the deal," she countered. You huffed, but eventually smiled for her. "Just remember. This goes both ways. I get new photos of you, too." 
She found herself giving you a wink. "I'll allow it."  
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shit-talker · 2 days
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I saw someone in a TikTok comment saying they didn't really think DBD was that great of Queer rep because none of the ships actually ended up together at the end of S1. But here's the thing, Queer rep isn't always about gay couples - it's about the characters, and yeah, the easiest way to show a Queer character is putting them in a queer relationship, but that's not what it's all about.
I found DBD particularly fascinating because the queerness of these characters wasn't the main focus - it's not a romance, it's a teen drama that mainly focuses on character development (as seen with Edwin coming yo terms with his sexuality, Crystal overcoming her experience with her abusive ex, Charles dealing with the trauma of having an abusive parent, and even Niko dealing with contacting her mother and dealing with her father's death) it's about the relationships, but not necessarily in a romantic manner.
Charles and Edwin's relationship is one of the main focuses on the show, and yeah, eventually, they'll end up together, but they first have to get over these obstacles in their own internal lives. Charles has to be able to regulate and deal with his own emotions instead of repressing them, hiding them with humour, and eventually lashing out, and Edwin has to be comfortable in himself before he can be comfortable in a relationship - and they would be true if they were a straight or a gay couple.
Queer representation doesn't need to be the main focus of everything - if this were a romance, then yeah, maybe, but it isn't. I don't think any of the relationships in the show would have changed if they weren't queer and that's what representation is about. It's about breaking down these barriers that separate a gay couple from a straight couple. It's about showing that love isn't defined by a gender or whatever.
And it needs to be realistic. For me, watching shows like Heartstopper (I haven't seen all of it, I read the webcomic like 3 years ago, tho) it felt very surface level because it was almost like every plot point revolved around the characters being queer, and while I love that and think it's great for a younger queer audience (like 13/14) I think shows should focus less on making gay characters and couple to please an audience, and focus more on creating in depth meaningful characters who just so happen to be gay.
Shows like Good Omens, I feel did a great job with dealing with a queer narrative. It's not technically about a queer relationship as the main focus, and yet the audience is still able to pick up on it and catagorise it as queer media.
Is Dead Boy Detectives perfect in this regard? Of course not, no piece of media is perfect, but I do like how they've dealt with it.
People need to realise that shows can have an underlying queer narrative without queerbaiting or specifically stating so. In DBD, characters never state their sexuality because it doesn't matter to the show - not to mention two of the main characters are from periods of time where labels weren't a huge thing, or even known about but we are still able to pick up these context clues that point towards a preference for them.
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Smoking and other new things (M)
Part two of the I'd Do Anything Series
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Summary: Since y/n can't tell anyone she fucked Jeonghan, she has to resort to other methods of achieving her original goal of making people see her in a different, less innocent light.
Warnings: Smoking, talk of drugs, college party- but not Jackson Wang's, skewed perceptions of 'innocence', blow job, throat fucking, dom!jeonghan, sub!yn, inexperienced!yn, creampie, rough sex, semi-public sex, light degredation, kinda mean!jeonghan, treats (don't ask), lots of saliva, minimal impact play
A.N. I just want it known that most of the experiences that y/n explores in this are experiences I TOO am unexperienced. My best friend was google, and the hits of vapes and cigarettes I took SOLELY for research on this fic. don't bully me pls </3
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The great thing about the events of this past week was that unlike what anyone would have believed in and out of high school, you were finally not a virgin.
You had had multiple people make jokes with you that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone until you were married and even then they joked that you would wait forever after that.
Because somewhere along the line people became convinced that good kid also equaled prude.
So now, excitingly, you had physical proof that you weren’t a prude…
And you couldn’t tell anyone.
You tapped at your desk in aggravation, your finished chemistry work sitting captive beneath your hand. 
What the fuck was the point in all of this? Sure in the moment it had all made sense, because Jeonghan was hot, and you two were alone, and you had wanted to be fucked so badly. But to so easily agree to not tell anyone.
What was the point? What was the point?
It wasn’t like you had only wanted to have sex with Jeonghan to brag about it. Having sex with a specific person wasn’t a brag, but now if you were to make some broad statement about how actually I have had sex before and I also did anal, and he creampied both of my holes- I even have a safe word but I can’t tell you who it was but I mean trust me it happened no one would believe you.
It sounded like you were just making up crazier details to make it more outrageous and therefore believable.
So, so frustrating…
You considered silently what to do with your weekend. You had gotten your homework done by now, and it was a Friday night. This was the perfect chance for you to do something else to change everyone’s opinions on you, but you didn’t even know where to start.
Okay… Not true. You could just go back to square one: Drugs.
And thanks to Jeonghan, you knew just where to go.
You pulled out your phone and opened Hansol’s contact.
Hey. I need drugs.
You thought that was simple enough and within only a few minutes your phone was buzzing. You picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Y/n, what the fuck?”
You pursed your lips, and tapped your index finger against the desk.
“What?”
“You can’t just text me that you need drugs,” Hansol clarified, sounding a bit annoyed that he needed to do so. Your eyes trailed to the side.
“You sound like Jeonghan.”
“What?” Hansol replied, confusion etching his voice. You didn’t elaborate.
“What should I say to you if I want drugs if I can’t just text you?” You asked.
Hansol sighed.
“Ask me in person?”
“But-“ 
You heard noise in the background and Hansol turned away from the phone, he spoke but his voice was muffled. Jealousy shot through your chest.
“Are you at a party right now?” You blurted before you could think twice about it. Hansol was quiet for a few seconds.
“… Yes….”
You planted both of your feet firmly on the ground.
“Let me come!”
“Y/n….”
“Please, please, please,” you begged, already getting to your feet to get changed. You switched the phone onto speaker as you began to rummage through your closet.
“Y/n, it’s just…. Really not your scene,” Hansol warned.
“It can be my scene!” You insisted as you ripped your shirt off. You grabbed your phone again, turning it off speaker and smashing it against your face. “Hansol, please, I promise I won’t stand out at all. It’ll be just like I’m one of the guys.”
You physically winced at your own words, and silence followed your statement. Silence that lasted for so long that you thought that surely you had ruined your chance completely.
“... Fine.”
“Really?!”
“But y/n. You have to be…” He let out a sound of frustration. “Good? Fuck. I don’t know, but everyone will be so pissed at me if I’m the one who invited you to this party and you get hurt or some shit.”
You weren’t really listening to Hansol at this point.
“I’ll see you soon Hansol!” You insisted. “Don’t forget to text me the address.”
-
You tried not to let what Hansol had said bother you too much, because who cared if he was still sheltering you when you had actually gotten the invite? You couldn’t help the excitement that was buzzing through your body at the fact that you were finally going to be at a party.
You weren’t sure what to expect, all you did know was that any college party was going to be either exactly like the movies or nothing like them at all.
You found the address of the house easy enough, and to start off the party certainly wasn’t as out of control as you had seen in films. There weren’t people throwing beer cans out of windows, and the music couldn’t be heard from all the way down the block but it did look like there were a lot of people inside.
Outside there were a handful of people talking with red solo cups in their hands, one of them being Hansol. As soon as you got out of your Uber, he saw you and waved you over.
“Hey,” he greeted as you joined him on the steps. He glanced over your outfit, a simple crop top and some jeans. “Good outfit.”
And you could tell by his voice that he was genuinely impressed. You couldn’t help the large smile that broke out over your lips.
“Thank you!” You said brightly. You peeked around his body at the party, and just as you did Hansol raised his vape to his mouth. You watched him, your heart thumping in your chest.
Vaping. Perfectly legal, perfectly safe. You could totally vape, and people would start to see you a little differently. Hansol seemed to watch your gaze and his eyebrows furrowed.
“Do you… Do you want a hit…?” He asked uncertainly. Your eyes lit up.
“Can I?” You asked. Hansol chewed unsurely on his bottom lip.
“Do you really want to?”
You nodded eagerly and so he sighed and handed it to you. You took the small piece of plastic and pressed it to your lips, but your hesitation was evident. Hansol sighed, that nervous expression still on his face.
“You have to slowly inhale the vapour, hold it in your mouth for just a second, and then open your mouth, breath in the vapour and exhale,” Hansol instructed. You nodded, trying to follow his instructions but when you tried to finally breathe in the vapour, you started to cough. Hansol took the vape from your fingers.
“It takes practice,” he said, but he looked more nervous than you felt. “Do you want a drink?”
He led you into the party, weaving through the groups of people. There were people playing beer pong, others standing around talking, some people were grinding on each other on the dance floor. What you knew for sure was that everyone was drunk.
You needed to get drunk.
Hansol walked right past the bowl of some sort of punch that was on a flimsy collapsable table and instead led you over to the fridge where he pulled out an unopened bottle of Corona beer. You pouted and pointed at the punch bowl.
“Solo cup,” you whined. He gave you another nervous look and instead, held the bottle out towards you more firmly.
“Unopened,” he pressed. You sighed, and decided to just take whatever alcohol you could get. Maybe you would try the punch later when Hansol wasn’t hovering over your shoulder as if he were your babysitter.
Your eyes trailed over the people at the party, trying to figure out who you knew, and who you could try to talk to. Before you could really take in your surroundings, a hand came to your back, and you jumped in surprise.
“Well, is that little y/nnie or are my eyes deceiving me?” The person bellowed. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. His lips curled up into a smile. “It is.”
You sucked in a small breath.
“Seobin?”
He grinned lazily.
“The one and only.”
Seobin was one of the boys that you knew from your time in high school. It may have been a while but you would recognize him on sight. (Considering he had been one of the more popular boys in school.) Seobin had never even talked to you before, and he certainly had never been this close to you.
Heat rose to your cheeks, and you knocked his hands off your shoulders, which he shrugged off like it had been his decision in the first place. He patted your head like you were a dog and looked over at Hansol.
“What’s little Miss Perfect doing here?” He asked, as if you weren’t standing right there. Hansol shrugged, still looking wildly uncomfortable.
“Y/n wanted to come,” Hansol shrugged.
“OoOoh,” Seobin said excitedly. He turned back to look at you.
“Looking for some way to change the way people think about you?” Seobin cooed lightly. You pressed your lips together in thought. “Looking for someone to make you seem, less pure?”
Your thoughts drifted to Jeonghan, and your eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“I already have someone to make me less pure,” you mumbled softly. “Don’t need you to make me seem it.”
Seobin laughed in surprise at your brazeness and he clapped his hand on your shoulder, and tightened his grip so that you were still in place. He leaned forward, his nose nearly brushing yours.
“You’re telling me you’re not a virgin anymore?”
Your face burned as Seobin got knocked off of you.
“Fuck off,” Hansol bit out. “Stop messing with her.” 
Seobin shrugged off Hansol.
“I’m not messing with her,” he grumbled. He looked at you. “Am I messing with you?”
You pursed your lips.
“I’m not a virgin,” you said, sounding like a whiney kid. Both Hansol and Seobin stared at you, before finally Seobin burst out in a loud obnoxious laugh.
“I need a fucking cigarette.”
You watched as Seobin dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small white box.
You stared at the box in Seobin’s hand, your heart thumping in your chest.
“I’ll just be a second,” he commented. He raised his free hand to pat your cheek condescendingly. “Why don’t you wait here for me huh?”
Your face burned.
“What? You don’t think that I can smoke?” You blurted, before remembering that you were supposed to be keeping your cool. Regardless, Seobin laughed.
“Can you smoke?” He asked.
“Well….” Your foot tapped against the ground in frustration. “I can certainly learn.”
Seobin’s eyebrows rose in amusement, and Hansol grabbed you by your forearm.
“Y/n,” he hissed, pulling you towards him a bit. “What… What are you doing?”
You shrugged.
“I’m going to learn to smoke a cigarette.”
Hansol looked pained.
“Why?”
You shrugged.
“Why not?”
He bit down on his bottom lip nervously and you took that as your opportunity to shake him off and follow Seobin out of the party. Once you two were out in the cool air, Seobin led you so that your back was on the wall of the house. He pulled out a cigarette and gave it to you.
You took it nervously in your hands, noting that it was a bit… Squishier..? Than you thought it would be.
Seobin poked his cigarette into his mouth, clicking his lighter to light the end of his cigarette. He took a small puff and then sighed, gesturing to you. 
“Put it in your mouth,” he said pointedly. Your eyes widened a bit and you did as he asked. Seobin grinned.
“How obedient. Maybe you aren’t a virgin.”
Your face burned but as it did Seobin leaned forward and flicked his lighter on again, lighting the end of the cigarette. He put the lighter back in his pocket. He pulled his cigarette out of his mouth briefly.
“Breathe into your mouth, down into your throat, and then exhale.”
You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing as you breathed in. You didn’t really feel like any smoke was entering your mouth. You kind of liked the texture of the cigarette between your lips. 
Your eyes squinted at Seobin who had decided to pin you against the wall with one hand while he smoked with the other, watching you in amusement. You tried to breathe in again, and this time it hit your throat.
You burst into a coughing fit, which made Seobin laugh at you. He plucked the cigarette out of your mouth and grinned at you.
“Are you sure you can smoke?”
You glared at Seobin and he stuck the cigarette in his mouth. He stared at you, his arms crossed over his chest.
“You know, you’re actually really pretty.”
Color flared to your cheeks at the comment.
“If you really are still a virgin and looking to lose that status…”
Oh my god, was this really all it took? To head to a party, and drink a little beer, and badly smoke a cigarette and then all of a sudden Seobin would want to fuck you. You couldn’t believe it. How easy this would have been if you had just cut out the middle man and come straight here.
“I…” You trailed off and Seobin took a step forward. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew smoke in your face. You turned your head to cough and as you did, his fingers came into your hair, and he led your gaze back to his.
“I can make you choke on a lot of things y/n.”
Your face burned red and you shook your head quickly, your mind flashing to that of Jeonghan. The fast image of his eyes flashing in your mind had you lightly pushing at Seobin’s chest.
“I-I think I’ve choked enough tonight,” you said with a nervous laugh. Seobin’s eyes were still lingering on your lips- Oh my god you really were hot.
“Shame,” Seobin finally said. His eyes flickered back up to yours.
“But if you change your mind.”
If you changed your mind you could just call Seobin.
What a crazy thing to think. That you had options.
You stayed outside for a bit longer, begging Seobin to let you try and smoke again. He gave you the cigarette after you begged a little bit, and you got more used to it after half an hour. You didn’t like it, but you did get used to it.
After you went back inside you drank some more, and Hansol started to finally loosen up a bit, less worried about you as you melded in with the crowd of people.
And by the time you got home that night, drunk and tired, you finally felt like you were actually starting to fit in.
-
Somehow you had managed to get yourself invited to a study session with Hansol and his friends on one of the higher floors of the library in their own study room. After hours of studying and talking, Hansol started to pack up his things and he looked across the room at you.
"If you really want..." Hansol's voice was a bit hesitant as his fingers clutched around the small dark vape cartridge in his hand. "We were all going to get high and watch Finding Nemo."
He shrugged off-handedly as if it was something so mundane to him he couldn't imagine you wanting to do it. And that hesitation made sense because to him, this was mundane. You had heard him and Irene making these plans around you a million times and yet you had never gotten an invite.
But today you had somehow managed to get one.
You tried not to come off as too excited.
"Sure, it's been a while since I've seen Finding Nemo."
Hansol nodded, a smile flickering across his lips as he turned over his shoulder, back toward the room that you two had just come from. You followed him, both of you sticking your heads back through the doorway.
"Y/n and I are headed out," he announced. You sent a timid smile Seungcheol's way, and as you did you turned around, excited to follow Hansol off but instead of following you ended up colliding.
You glanced up, squinting to figure out who was staring down at you with an incredulous expression on his face.
You immediately straightened up, pressing your lips into a tight thin line.
"Oh, Jeonghan, you just missed us," Hansol commented. Jeonghan's eyes flicked over to Hansol's for only a second.
"Us?"
"We're meeting up with Irene, Mark, Eunbi, and Yerin," Hansol elaborated and he so clearly didn't see the expression on Jeonghan's face that you did.
You looked away from Jeonghan, and instead found a spot on the floor, wondering why you felt like a child who had just gotten caught at a party by their parents.
"Y/n's going with you?" He asked. Hansol hummed.
"Not as innocent as we thought I guess," Hansol commented. "Asked for a hit of my vape."
"Yeah?"
His gaze was practically burning into you.
"And you were telling me about that party you went to last-"
Your eyes widened and you darted forward, your hand covering Hansol's mouth before you could consider the repercussions for your actions. Hansol stared at you in confusion, and you forced a laugh, letting your hand slide down to his shoulder.
"Can't tell everyone about the party."
"Considering that Seobin taught you how to smoke a cigarette I would think you would be ecstatic to tell everyone about the party."
There was dead silence between you three, in fact, you weren't even breathing.
"You know, considering the fact you're trying to make people see you more seriously."
Why did Hansol feel the need to double back on that? Why did that just make everything worse?
"You know what? That does make me see y/n in a different light."
You risked a glance up at Jeonghan, who had a scarily calm expression on his face.
"Why don't I walk y/n to Irene's? Didn't Soonyoung have some project he needed to talk to you about?" Jeonghan asked, directing his attention fully to Hansol. Hansol's eyebrows furrowed and he looked down at his hands.
"Shit, you're right."
As he thought over Jeonghan's proposition his hand raised to his face, and the light on his vape lit up, the artificial smoke drifting out of his mouth after only a moment.
"Y/n, Jeonghan can get you there. I'll be there in just a few moments."
He held out his vape just the same way that he had a few minutes ago, expecting you to take another hit. You decided not to overthink it. You grabbed the vape, breathed in too fast, and a cool and sharp bit of air and smoke hit the back of your throat. You coughed out in surprise but mostly kept the sudden reaction concealed.
Hansol smiled.
"You're getting used to it. I'll see you in a second."
And then he was rushing off, leaving you all alone with Jeonghan at your side.
It wasn't like you were doing anything wrong. You weren't doing anything that anyone your age had told you not to. You were just trying new things, and hanging out with new people and... Making everyone think differently of you.
Now that Hansol thought you were willing to try all of these new things he was looking at you differently. No longer that smile that haunted you when people asked you if you wanted to smoke with them out of convention. The look in their eyes that said that they knew you were going to turn down the offer, and that look that screamed to you that they looked at you as more of a perfect porcelain doll than a human.
And yet, looking away from Hansol's expression, the way that said that he finally thought you were normal, you turned and looked to Jeonghan's and you saw something else.
He didn't seem to see you as normal necessarily, and there was disappointment, but that wasn't everything that was there... He didn't look at you like you had suddenly changed into something that ruined his perception of you... What was that look in his eyes?
"Cigarettes?" He asked you after a few moments. You stared at him and nodded. "How long were you at that party?"
Your hand raised subconsciously to the eyeliner you hadn't completely scrubbed from off your undereyes. He huffed.
"And you're vaping now too?"
All things that you knew your parents would shame you for, and you felt shame. You felt like you had disappointed Jeonghan, but... Not the way that you felt like you should feel.
"You want me to teach you something today?" Jeonghan asked you. He closed the distance between you two, and dug his fingers into the roots of your hair. "Something like what I taught you the last time we were alone?"
Your breath hitched.
"Yes sir," you barely managed to get out, because as soon as the confirmation was out of your lips Jeonghan's lips were smashing into yours. Your hands quickly fell to his arm for purchase, your eyes smashed shut as every part of you forgot how to think.
You didn't even realize that you were desperately trying to press yourself into the kiss until Jeonghan had pulled away and you realized you were on the tips of your toes.
You stared at him, chest heaving, ready to be obedient for him.
"Today you're going to learn how to be quiet."
Jeonghan shoved you towards a closet and smashed the two of you inside of it. He then dug his fingers into your hair again and forced you down to your knees.
"Today you're going to learn how to suck dick."
You felt your mouth growing wetter as you stared up at Jeonghan, the dim light of the closet framing the dark look in his eyes.
"And today you're going to learn how to hide when you've done something naughty."
You swallowed hard, nodding stupidly as Jeonghan released your hair. He began to undo his belt, the metal clattering loudly.
“Have you told anyone about us?” He asked, and to punctuate the question he snapped his belt. You jumped at the loud crack, watching as he tossed it to the side. You shook your head in negation to his statement.
Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed as he unzipped his pants.
“Use your words y/n,” he said simply.
“I-I haven’t told anyone,” you managed to get out. A smile flickered over Jeonghan’s lips.
“Good girl,” he cooed. Your face burned under the attention and Jeonghan’s hands wrapped around the base of his cock, drawing your eyes back to it.
Already the thing was standing hard and heavy in front of you, the tip of his cock only a few inches from your face.
“You’ve never sucked cock before?” Jeonghan confirmed. You shook your head slowly, your eyes not leaving the length of his cock. That had been inside of you. Not long ago, Jeonghan had been fucking you with that and you had taken it (as far as you were aware) like a fucking champ. You could hardly believe it.
Jeonghan suddenly tapped the tip of his cock to your lips.
“Pay attention,” he mumbled. Your eyes flickered back up to his, an apologetic expression crossing your face.
“Giving head is easy,” Jeonghan finally said, he gave his cock a few strokes as he spoke. “Keep your teeth off of my dick, and focus on taking me as far into your mouth as your comfortable with.”
He eyed you for a moment.
“Why don’t you touch it a little first? Get comfortable.”
The way that Jeonghan was talking to you about sucking his dick was absolutely humiliating. Like you were a kid trying to ride a bike for the first time. Still, you did as you were told. You tentatively wrapped your hands around his cock, staring at the tip as you gave it a hesitant pump.
You looked at Jeonghan for approval which he gave with a small nod.
“The head of the cock is the most sensitive part of it,” Jeonghan said, his breath catching a little as the comment made you immediately swipe your thumb over his tip. You felt a little proud to have made him react like that, so after another pump you did it again.
He readjusted the way he was standing.
“Lick it,” he instructed softly, and his fingers came to rest in your hair again. “Just a bit, get me wet with your tongue.”
You nodded slowly, and tilted his cock up a little so that you could give his cock a very small lick. It felt a little awkward, but you still licked again, and again, deciding to treat it like it was icecream.
You didn’t think that the very minimal stimulation would be good at all, but as you started to lick up the base of his cock, Jeonghan’s fingers tightened a bit in your hair. His mouth let out soft little pants as you licked across the expanse of his dick, before you finally grew a bit impatient. You licked the tip of his cock, your tongue pressing against his slit. He let out a barely contained groan, and so you sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth.
His fingers gripped at your hair, but you still sucked at his tip, the saltiness of his precum spreading over your tongue.
“Deeper,” Jeonghan grunted out.
You glanced up at him, but his eyes were closed. You slowly began to work more of him into your mouth, but you only had a little bit more of him in your mouth when you stopped, your mouth already feeling full around him.
“Is that it?” Jeonghan bit out impatiently. Your face heated up even more and you tried to suck more of his cock into your mouth, but you ended up choking on it. You pulled off of him completely, little tears sprouting in the corners of your eyes as you coughed.
You hadn’t really imagined that sucking cock would be this hard.
Jeonghan sighed and the grip he had on your hair loosened, his hand sliding down your cheek so that his thumb could rub you just under your chin.
“It’s a process…” He said softly. You caught your breath and nodded, before raising your head a little bit to look back up at him.
“How many girls have given you head?” You asked. The question clearly caught him off guard, his fingers left your face.
“Well, that’s a bit personal-”
“I’m going to do it better,” you mumbled softly. You dragged the tip of his cock back to your lips and you closed your eyes as you slowly worked more of him into your mouth. You decided to do it more like you had seen in porn videos. You eased his cock into your mouth, and worked it in and out as you slowly made your way further down on hin.
“Just take it slow,” Jeonghan encouraged you, his hand was on you again, his thumb rubbing your jaw. You closed your eyes tightly and pushed his cock deeper into your mouth. You got a bit deeper than you had the first time before you started to gag again but this time you tried to push through it.
You forced more of him down your throat.
“Don’t push it too hard,” Jeonghan warned. You ignored him, and choked harder around his cock, saliva dipping down your chin. Jeonghan’s hand came back to your hair and he tightly pulled you off of him. You coughed again, gasping.
“I said don’t push too hard,” Jeonghan reasserted. You groaned, your head tilting a little bit.
“I just…” You trailed off as you caught your breath.
“Sweetheart-” For some reason, the nickname made your face burn. “What you are trying to do, isn’t a blow job. You know why your choking? Because you’re taking my dick down your throat.”
Your face blazed.
“Well, that feels better than just a blow job, right?” You asked hesitantly. Jeonghan’s lips flickered into a smile.
“Immensely,” he agreed, and then his face morphed into something more serious. “But you’re a beginner. And deep throating is an expert move-”
“Just give me advice on how to choke less,” you blurted out, not interested in hearing Jeonghan tell you that you were worse at sucking his dick than everyone else before you. He raised an unamused eyebrow at the interruption. “Please?”
“Breathe through your nose,” Jeonghan mumbled back. “If you’re so insistent.”
You nodded, and sucked in a deep breath before leaning forward again. You sucked him back into your mouth, and like before you eased it slowly deeper and deeper into your mouth. Once it was pushing into your throat you were beginning to gag again, but you tried to do what Jeonghan had suggested and just breathe through your nose.
He was yanking you off of his cock again and you fought to catch your breath, spit dripping down your chin.
“You’re doing fine,” Jeonghan mumbled reassuringly. You swallowed some of the spit in your mouth and looked up at him.
“Does it feel good at least?”
He stared at you in confusion.
“What?”
“When I choke on your dick.”
A strange looked flashed in Jeonghan’s eyes and he leaned down towards you. His lips quirked up in a small smile and his thumb pushed into your mouth suddenly. You weren’t sure why, but you sucked on the finger regardless.
“It feels amazing when you choke on my cock,” he mumbled softly. “And I would like nothing more than to fuck that little throat as hard and deep as I want to… Holding back is… Difficult.”
Your face darkened a little and you stared up at him, your eyes wide, the question in them hopefully going unsaid-
“You want me to?” Jeonghan asked, amusement etched in his voice. “You want me to fuck your throat like I’m some kind of animal?”
Embarrassment swirled through your chest, and your pussy burned at the way Jeonghan said it. You nodded once.
“You’ve got to beg me for it, y/n,” Jeonghan chided lightly. “I want to hear you begging for me to fuck your little virgin throat.”
Your eyes fluttered shut in embarrassment.
“Please…” You whispered.
“Please what?”
Jeonghan’s thumb prodded at your chin, rubbing your saliva onto it.
“Please fuck my throat…”
Jeonghan’s hum of approval sent arousal thrumming through your body.
“Now that’s a good girl.”
His fingers grasped both sides of your face and he tapped your cheek to make you open your eyes back up.
“Pinch my thigh to stop,” he ordered. You nodded once.
“O-okay..” You mumbled. Jeonghan grinned, and then he was easing his cock down your throat.
At first, he was being careful. He slowly eased his cock into your mouth, his fingers digging into your face as he tried not to force himself too deep too fast. His moans stuttered as he eased himself in and out of your mouth, his breathing strangled.
But the second his cock dipped too far into your throat and you choked, he was losing control.
He forced his cock so deep into your throat, you felt like you were breathing him in. You gagged around his cock, but just as he was pulling out, he was pushing in just as deep and hard. You focused on keeping your teeth out of the way at first, but the more he fucked your mouth, your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed as carefully as you could through your nose…
His moans sent heat right down to your core. Your whole body ached with the need to be touched as he fucked your throat like he needed to do so to live.
You couldn’t believe the sounds he was making. Couldn’t believe that even though saliva was dripping down your chin and you were choking he was still using you like you were some kind of toy.
Out of nowhere, Jeonghan pulled himself out of your mouth.
“Are you ready for me?” You gasped for air, your eyebrows strewn in confusion. Ready for what?
Jeonghan rolled his eyes, frustrated.
“You better be fucking opening yourself up for me,” Jeonghan elaborated. Because your mouth is hot…” He began to slide down towards you. “And tight…” He took your free hand, shoving it into your panties. “And so so pretty…” His lips pressed to yours. “Especially stretched around my cock.”
He smiled, and tapped your face with his hand. Not quite sharp enough to be considered a slap.
“But I want to fuck that pretty pussy, and i expect you to be ready for it.”
He stood back up, towering over you again.
“It’s not my job to make sure you’re open enough for my cock.”
A shiver ran through your body, at both the insuation that he would fuck you- stretched out enough for his cock or not- and at the excitement that he was going to fuck you again. Here?!
Your rice purity score was changing rapidly.
You tried to push two fingers into your pussy, but it was a bit of a struggle, so you focused on just the one for the moment.
Jeonghan tapped the tip of his cock to your lips again and you opened your mouth obediently. He took you by the roots of your hair and pushed his cock down your throat. Your fingers stilled inside you as you coughed around his cock, but he mostly ignored it. 
Besides, you still had one of your hands free, and rested on his thigh. An easy cop out if you needed it.
As you tried to focus on your breathing you also tried to refocus on fingering yourself again. This time you managed two fingers into yourself and you started to scissor those two in and out of your pussy.
Even if you were just at home on your own with one of your dildos you would be rushing this. Honestly, you’d probably get impatient right away and just start to force the dildo into you as is, but since you couldn’t control the timing of your current situation, you focused on your fingers.
Jeonghan pressed your head against the wall so he could fuck your mouth better, but he paused for a moment, reaching down so that he could lift up the corners of your skirt. He saw your hand stuffed in your underwear and a curse mixed with a moan left his lips. He pulled you up by your hair.
“Panties off,” he instructed you. “Want to see that little pussy dripping all over the floor.”
You immediately  struggled to step out of your underwear, and once you did you were back in an awkward squat, your back and head against the wall as you fingered yourself and Jeonghan fucked your throat.
Every now and then, Jeonghan would reach down and pull the hem of your skirt up so that he could watch your fingering and the way that your own spit was dripping down your chin onto your shirt, but you secretly thought it was an excuse to let you breathe.
After a while though, Jeonghan couldn’t keep up the pattern. He yanked you up by your hair, and shoved you into one of the shelves against the wall. Your cheek pressed into old wood, your hands knocking over some books.
“What’s your safe word?” He asked you, as if that’s what you were thinking about when the tip of his cock was sliding in your folds. And to make all matters worse he had you mangled in such a way that moving was impossible, with one hand knotted into your hair.
You squirmed a bit, and Jeonghan’s tip slipped into your pussy, only to be immediately drawn out. A sound of frustration you didn’t even realize you knew how to make was forcibly ripped from your throat, and Jeonghan pulled you back by your hair.
“Your safe word.”
Right. You blurted out your safe word, your fingers finding purchase on the shelf just in time for Jeonghan to sink himself inside of you.
Your fingers clenched tightly at the stretch, grateful that Jeonghan had given you so much time earlier to stretch yourself out.  Jeonghan shifted his hands so that he was pressing his palm into your back, pushing you down hard.
“Oh aren’t you so good for me?” Jeonghan pressed lightly. His hand left your back for only a second, and just as you straightened up his hand was smacking your ass.
You cried out in surprise, the hit sending warmth through your body.
“Don’t fucking move,” Jeonghan growled. His hand pushed down your back again hard, forcing your ass out more. “If I put you in a position you don’t fucking move.”
You whimpered back your response and this time when he pulled his hand away from you, you stayed in position. Even so, he smacked your ass again, and you cried out as he began to set a hard and fast pace of fucking you.
“That’s better,” he praised lightly. His hand brushed your hair off of his neck so it was more exposed to him, and then his hand was pressing down on it, pressing you harder into the shelf. “You’re starting to learn to take dick so well…”
As he spoke he pummeled his cock into your pussy. You let your forehead hit the shelf as you raised a hand to your mouth, trying to muffle your screams as he pushed so deep inside of you that you thought you were going to break- No amount of stretching yourself out on your fingers could prepare you for how deep his cock was pushing inside of you.
“That’s right,” Jeonghan cooed, forcing his cock even harder into you, so hard the shelves shook around you. “Better keep quiet. Don’t want anyone to hear…”
He laughed at his own words.
“Well, you do want people to hear don’t you? You would love for someone to find out that you let me rail you in a closet wouldn’t you?”
You whimpered, your eyes closing firmly shut as you tried to ignore him, tried to focus on keeping your voice down.
“You know, your hovering dangerously far into slut territory.”
You squeezed around his cock, crying out as the simple use of the word made a moan rip out of you.
“Oh fuck, I can’t handle it when you squeeze my cock like that,” Jeonghan groaned, his voice rising in pitch as his fingers dug into your hips, holding you still so he could fuck you even harder.
“You know what else makes you squeeze my cock like that?”
He smacked your ass, and as the pain shot through your body, just as he said, your pussy clenched around his cock. He moaned loudly.
“I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum…” He moaned. “Beg for it y/n…”
You knew that if you let your hand leave your mouth you would be screaming for Jeonghan to fuck you harder, but it seemed Jeonghan didn’t care about that because in the few seconds you were considering your options his hand was striking even harder on your ass.
“I said beg.”
“Please-” You blurted out, trying to keep your voice to a steady level, but your whole body was bouncing on his cock. Your heart was thumping in your chest, your own orgasm was rapidly approaching.”
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Jeonghan please come inside of me,” you begged. “Need it deep… Need to feel you for days… Need to-”
Jeonghan’s cock twitched inside of you and he forced his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them hard as a way to keep yourself from screaming as thick ropes of hot cum shot out, deep into your pussy. You came around his cock almost instantly, your pussy milking him of every drop of cum. He gave you a few hard and deep thrust before finally pulling his fingers and cock out of you.
You gasped as you tried to keep your grip on the shelf, your legs shaking as you tried to get yourself together. But, you finally gave up on that and let yourself lower to the floor, your back hitting the wall as your pussy dripped cum. You did your best to try and catch your breath, silence falling between the two of you.
Jeonghan dug into his pocket, and, unbelievably enough pulled out a chocolate bar. You panted where you were now slumped against the ground and stared at him as he unwrapped it a little, breaking off one of the pieces.
“Open,” he said firmly.
You wouldn’t have argued with him no matter the situation. You opened your mouth and let him put the candy in your mouth. He watched you in silence for a little, waiting for you to finish eating that piece of candy before putting another piece in your mouth.
“Y/n…” His tone was scary.
“What?” You asked him.
“Why are you…” He trailed off, sounding a bit frustrated. “It’s just…” He was struggling greatly with what to say. “You’re an adult.”
Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.
“I’m an adult,” you agreed. He stared at you, broke off another piece of candy and put it in your mouth.
“And all of your friends are now adults,” he continued. “And adults, aren’t bothered with superficial things. They care about a person for… That person.”
You stared at him, and opened your mouth, only to be silenced with another piece of candy.
“Cigarettes are bad for you,” Jeonghan said quickly. Your wide-eyed expression dropped to one of dread, and just as you went to argue with him, he covered your mouth with the palm of his hand. “And you shouldn’t be vaping just so Hansol thinks you’re cool!”
You glared at Jeonghan.
“You don’t need to change anyone’s opinion on you,” Jeonghan said weakly. “You could… You could do anything and people are still going to treat you the same.”
You pinched Jeonghan’s wrist, and he gave you a more pointed look.
“I’m serious.”
You pinched him again and his hand fell to his side.
“Hansol invited me to a party Jeonghan,” you said. You shifted so that you were sitting more upright. “And then Seobin taught me how to smoke and he almost kissed me- And he’d never even looked at me in high school.” You waved your hand through the air. “And today Hansol called me cool.”
“Hansol thought you were cool before,” Jeonghan said. “He only said that to me because he thinks I don’t think you’re cool.”
Your ears perked up at that. Did Jeonghan think you were cool?
“And you don’t want someone like Seobin to kiss you,” he sounded disgusted. “If you wanted someone like Hansol, or Hyuk to kiss you I would get it but not someone like Seobin.”
“Jeonghan I don’t care who wants to kiss me. I just want someone to kiss me.”
The serious expression on his face cracked a little, his lips up-quirked.
“Well, I know someone who could do that for you,” he said, his voice dropping a bit. A smile spread across your lips too, but it seemed to remind Jeonghan of what he had been trying to say. “You don’t need to do all these new things if you are just trying to change people’s perception of you.”
“People don’t take me seriously Jeonghan,” you argued back. This time, growing frustrated of the fact that you had just let him rail you just so that he could lecture you after. You got to your feet, and began to put your clothes back on. Jeonghan just watched you from where he was crouched. “No one takes me seriously.”
“I take you seriously,” Jeonghan replied back firmly. You eyed him.
“You didn’t take me seriously until I demanded you sell me drugs.”
Something flashed in Jeonghan’s eyes and he got up in a flash.
“That’s not true.”
His tone was stern, but as soon as he was standing he seemed to notice something on your face. He sighed his frustration and reached forward, his thumb brushing over your cheeks, just by the corner of your lips.
“If you think that someone will only like you because you do drugs and let them fuck you anywhere you shouldn’t be friends with them.”
You stared at Jeonghan blankly.
“Do whatever you want y/n,” Jeonghan said after a moment’s pause. “But your friends. Your real ones, they don’t like it. I would be saying this to anyone. Take it from the black sheep. Don’t do anything that will get you hurt.”
He tugged at your shirt so that it fell right on your body, and then he opened the closet door.
“But keep in mind that you have a lot of people who are willing to catch you if you fall.”
He peeked around outside of the closet and then fully stepped out. He gestured for you to follow, and you did. He gave you one more look.
“You haven’t been offering yourself up to people for drugs have you?”
You shook your head wordlessly. He let out a sigh of relief.
“My number is still the same.”
And with that he waved his hand over his shoulder and walked away.
Taglist (go here to join!):
@vintageot5 @woo8hao @toruro @wonudazed @kkakkameori @starlight-night0 @minl0u @alltheshineofthestars-blog @park-hera-gi @melodicrabbit @jeanjacketjesus @sparklyshuji @itgirl-inthemaking @lexix001 @kyeomofhearts @joshhlvr @k-drama-adict @kyeomooniee @jjeongddol @changkyunsbussy @imprettyweird @ttragiquee @colored-confetti @afslme @nerezza123
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livyjh · 1 day
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The Incident
Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader (non-specific size/shape/skin color/gender terms)
Rating: EXPLICIT 18+
Word count: 1.7k
Summary: you live with Joel and Ellie in Jackson. Ellie has been spending a lot of time outside the house lately, leaving you and Joel alone. One day he walks in on you naked and things couldn’t be the same after. Smut ensues.
Warnings: smut (duh), embarrassing situation, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it!), awkwardness with Joel, making out, strip tease.
A/N: I’M BACK, BABY!! I know it’s been forever since I posted a fic. Life has been actually fucking insane and I was just unmotivated for a long time. This isn’t my best work, as I’m just getting back on the bandwagon, but I hope to be creating, writing, and posting more often from now on! I miss you guys. Please send me messages of encouragement or anon notes or whatever if you feel like it! I could use it!
Joel Miller Masterlist
****************************************************
Joel didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
Actually… that wasn’t true. He knew exactly why.
The other day he’d walked in on you coming out of the shower. He could’ve sworn he heard you walk to your bedroom. He was wrong.
So there you were, one foot in the tub, the other on the little rug outside the bath. Completely naked. Dripping wet. Skin, hot.
The first thing he looked at was your chest. He’d never been oblivious to your body, but out of respect he’s always just tried not to look too much.
Then he looked right back up into your horrified eyes and slammed the door shut, him on one side, you on the other.
“Joel!” You scolded nervously.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. Thought you’d gone to your room already. I just need to piss. I- uh- I’ll go downstairs.” Joel cleared his throat and shook his head before leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and rapid heartbeat.
You finished stepping out of the tub before grabbing your towel and throwing it over your head. You scrunched your hair with it before throwing your hands over your face. You groaned loudly into the towel, embarrassed.
You’d always had this fleeting, tiny crush on Joel. Nothing serious, but there were some times when he’d smile, or the light would hit his eyes just right, or when he stretched his back and groaned softly before letting out a soft exhale… those were the times you cherished being around him.
He was attractive. No question about it.
You were attractive. Also no question there.
You were a confident person, someone who tried to not care what other people thought. You were almost thankful for the apocalypse because now there weren’t any magazines or programs forcing you to look a certain way for society.
Society doesn’t really exist anymore, so, fuck it.
***
The day and a half following the incident was awkward. You and Joel barely talked to each other, much less looked each other in the eyes.
Finally though, Joel said something when it was just you and him sitting at the dining room table, eating.
“I’m really sorry about-“
You cut him off, knowing exactly what he was going to say. “No, you’re fine.” You laugh, a little nervous. “Just trying to remember the last time someone even saw me naked.” You snort.
“Oh.” Joel half smiles, almost sympathetic.
There’s a long pause while Joel hypes himself up to flirt with you.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen someone naked… so, uh-“ his nerves are getting the better of him.
“Did you like what you saw, at least?” You help him out.
He gulps, nodding slowly. He gives a smile with a hint of cockiness. “Yeah.”
“I think it’s only fair I get to see you naked now.” You wink.
Joel blushes deeply, looking down at his nearly empty plate.
“Come on. Tit for tat, as they say.” You giggle.
Joel chuckles too and it makes your heart beat a little faster. “Let’s go upstairs.”
You bite your lip and nod, Joel surprising you by grabbing your hand. He leads you upstairs and to his room before closing the door.
You’re eager, walking to the bed before sitting down and putting your hands in your lap. “Alright, get on with it.” You laugh quietly.
Joel walks over to the bed, standing in front of you with soft eyes. He keeps eye contact as he slowly reaches up to the top button on his flannel. He pops it open and suddenly you feel a warmth wash over you.
This was happening. Joel fucking Miller is basically giving you a strip tease show.
You bite your lip as you watch him, your focus switching between his hands and his face.
He keeps going with the buttons, one at a time, slower than you wanted, but you could handle it.
Once the last button was undone, he opened his shirt and shrugged it off. You took in the sight of his bare torso. You studied the small scars on his body, eyes tracing the slightly toned lines of his chest and stomach.
“Not bad at all.” You grinned.
“May I continue?” He raised a brow and licked his lips.
“By all means.” You breathe the words, squeezing your thighs together.
He started to pay attention to your body now, too. His eyes roamed down to your chest, not missing the sight of your thighs rubbing against each other.
“Getting wet already?” He teased.
You let out a small moan before meeting his eyes and nodding.
“Good.” He reached down to the button on his jeans, letting it loose before unzipping his fly. You were paying close attention to his hands, noticing he was quickly hardening in his pants.
Your mouth was almost watering as you watched. His thumbs stuck into the top of his jeans before he pushed them down his legs and stepped out of them.
His boxer briefs were a dark blue, with a gray waistband. His cock was straining the fabric, a little wet spot beginning to form.
“Fuck.” You cursed, reaching down between your legs to relieve some pressure.
“Not gonna let me do that for you?” Joel hummed.
“Please, y- yes.” You sighed and laid back on the bed.
Joel got between your legs, looming over you. You could feel the heat coming off his body as he finally leant down to kiss you for the first time.
You sighed happily against his lips, reaching up to put both your hands in the hair on the back of his head.
He relaxed himself a little, his hips meeting yours. He was only wearing underwear and you were unfortunately still dressed, but when he rolled his hips-
“Joel-!” You gasped, wrapping your legs around him, feeling riled up beyond belief.
“What do you need, honey?” He cooed.
“Need… need you to fuck me.”
“What do you say?”
“Please.” You whispered.
“S’right.” He nodded and kissed you again before sitting back on his knees. He reached forward and hooked his fingers in your shorts and your underwear, pulling them both off in one swift movement.
“Take off your shirt, baby.” Joel smiled.
You nodded and grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it off to reveal your bare chest.
“No bra today?” He asked with a smirk.
“No bra most days.” You shrugged.
He smiled in response, leaning down to press his lips to your neck.
You shivered and dug your heels into his ass to try and get him to grind against you. It didn’t take much convincing.
He started to roll his hips down against yours as he kissed up and down your neck, trailing his kisses down to your chest. He covered your left nipple with his warm mouth and began to suck softly.
You let out a whine and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling as your body transcended to another plane of being.
You hadn’t felt this good in so long. You could hardly remember the last time you had sex. Probably because it didn’t feel anything like this. You were breathing heavy, pussy dripping with wetness, surely making a wet spot on Joel’s underwear.
It felt amazing but you couldn’t wait much longer for the main event. “Joel, I- please. Please, baby.”
“I know… need it so bad, huh?” He looked up at you, moving to take off his boxers quickly.
“Yeah.” You breathed, heart racing with anticipation.
You looked down at his bare cock, jaw almost dropping at the sight. He was long and thick, the head a beautiful shade of reddish pink, leaking.
He stroked himself a couple of times as he got into a comfortable position between your legs, which were now wrapped around his waist.
“Ready?” Joel asked kindly.
“As ever.” You nodded and kissed him.
He lined up easily before starting to push himself into your core.
Joel’s cock was definitely made for you. It felt so good as it slid between your pussy lips, your juices coating him and making it easier for him to enter you.
“Fuck…” you moaned when he had pushed in all the way. It didn’t hurt, but you were gonna need a minute to adjust.
“Start slow.” You smiled against his lips.
“Whatever you want.” He hummed and kissed you again, starting to slowly pull out until your labia was only wrapped around the head of his cock.
He thrusted slowly like this a few times before he felt you relax around him. “Feel good?”
“So fucking good, Joel.” You nodded and dug your nails into his shoulders as he sped up.
He pressed his face into your neck, lips against your collarbone when you said something.
“Harder.” You pleaded.
“Harder?” He asked, clarifying.
“Harder.” You whined, body tingling.
“I gotcha, baby.” Joel moved his hands under your back, pressing himself into you for more leverage.
He started pounding into you at a fast pace, grunting with each thrust.
“Yes yes yes!” You yelled out, toes curling.
“You gonna cum for me, sweetie?” He growled.
“Yeah! Ohhh…” your breathing stuttered as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching.
His cock was hitting your g-spot with every movement and it was almost enough to drive you crazy. But in the best way.
“I’m cumming. Oh, fuck. I’m cumming!” You gasped and then let out multiple whimpers as the waves of your orgasm washed over you.
You squeezed around Joel and he couldn’t hold back any longer, shooting hot ropes of cum against your cervix.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He cursed with each breath as you both melted into each other completely.
His hips began to hurt and he finally slowed down, pulling out of you. He sat back and put his hands on your knees, keeping your legs spread.
Joel watched his cum leak out of you and onto his mattress as you caught your breath.
“Come here.” You reached for him with both arms.
He moved up the bed and pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead.
“That felt so good, Joel.” You smiled up at him. “I feel good with you.”
He nodded, “I feel the same.”
You looked into his eyes for a moment before leaning up to kiss him sweetly. “Ready for round two?”
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crazy-pages · 3 days
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First step to being a rationalist.
Acknowledge it might not work.
Let me take a step back for a moment. The single most important principle of science, in my opinion, is acknowledging the possibility of failure, that something might be beyond you. People often think of science as how you discover the truth, but I think it is more accurately and importantly described by how it lets us determine what we do not know.
For most of human history, we not only did not know what the sun was made out of, the question was fundamentally beyond our grasp. There was nothing any amount of scientific principle could do that would let you know what the sun was for most of human history. To be a scientist about it, to apply the scientific method to understanding the sun, is not just being able to know nuclear physics. You have to teach yourself to know when to say 'I don't know'.
For most of human history the sun has been fundamentally beyond our capacity to understand. And yet it is one of the most enduring and common subjects of false explanations. To internalize the scientific method, truly in a way that changes your thinking relative to what it was before you learned it, you have to become someone who, if you were living in those times, would be able to say "I don't know" even when everyone around you has an answer.
So let's talk about rationalism.
Rationalism is not just the idea that we can understand human biases. It's not just the idea that we can be more thoughtful or knowledgeable people by understanding these biases. No, rationalism is specifically the idea that by learning enough about human biases and by leaning on hard enough on data, we can reliably make correct and optimal moral choices. It is the belief that by performing enough rationalist study and training, and applying enough information science to a problem, one can proceed on the assumption they have come to the correct conclusion.
And those are very different things. It is the difference between saying "by understanding wood better, we can construct better foot bridges" and "by understanding wood better, we can span the San Francisco Bay with it".
Because here's the thing, better is not the same thing as reliable. Even if we grant the assumption that learning about biases makes one less likely to fall prey to them, and that is an assumption, an 80% chance of making mistake is also less than a 90% chance of making a mistake. It's valuable, that's a good thing, but it is not sufficient to say "hey so I used this method to come to my conclusions, therefore I'm sure I didn't make a mistake".
If you want to be a rationalist, the first rational principle you need to apply is that of the scientific principle looking at the sun. You need to be able to say "There may be nothing I can do, with the resources I have access to, to be sure I am actually free of bias and mistakes in logic. This may be fully beyond me, for the entire span of my life." And not just in the sense that nobody is perfect, but in the very real sense that you cannot depend on the train of logic in your own head to lead you to a correct place.
And the reason this is important is for the same reason it's important in science. The moment that you presume something is in fact knowable in science, it just becomes a tool of accrediting whatever conclusion you come to. It stops being an actual tool of discovery and becomes a rubber stamp of validation. It becomes something which makes you feel better about the conclusion you came to, not something which actually helps you in any way.
The moment you say to yourself, "because I am a rationalist, I am confident enough in A, B, and C to take actions X, Y, and Z" you've failed to be a rationalist. (Unless you provide a double blind study of a large well-controlled population, one of which was given rationalist training and the other which wasn't, upon the end of which it was determined that the rationalist trained population did indeed perform to an improved standard meeting a high minimum on certain metrics (upon which you must limit your assumption of rationalist improvement to those specific metrics). And then this study has been in the corpus of literature long enough to be peer-reviewed and criticized and had duplicate research and further investigation and a good long while for the scientific community to dissect it. A thing which has definitely not happened yet.)
The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is not an understanding of a specific set of biases. It's not the particular ways human cognition is messed up and it's not any type of information science. It is the fact that humans are flawed.
The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is humility, not hubris.
To do otherwise is for rationalism to just become another tool of confirmation bias, something making you think you are more correct than you actually are.
The humility you have to learn from rationalism is that you must plan and behave on the assumption that no matter how rationalist you think you are, you might still be behaving in biased ways. That there might be no way to fix this. And so all you can do try to behave in ways where even if you're wrong, you're going to minimize the harm you do to others.
This is where futurist philosophies derived from rationalism, the idea that the unimaginable number of humans in the future are so much more than the ones now that it justifies worker exploitation and present harms to make the far future better, falls apart. This is where AI doomerism/utopianism, the idea that general AI is definitely the biggest threat and potential boon facing humanity so we have to put all of our resources into safe AI research at the expense of everything else, falls apart. This is where effective altruism, the idea that we can quantify the outcomes of charity thoroughly enough that it makes sense to hand over direction of all charity to a small group of experts, falls apart.
Because the answer to "what if you're wrong about these philosophies?" is that a lot of people get very hurt. We are flawed. Fundamentally so, and I don't know that anyone has ever proved a way we can get around this. The only thing I know that we can do about this, is to try to behave in ways that minimize harms while trying to make the world better, rather than trying to maximize a hail mary to find the holy grail.
To which I can already hear the rationalists saying that this might not be enough to save the world, that anything but convulsive directed effort focused on is already doomed, so we have to pick one of them.
To which I say. First off, how are you sure of that? How is this a thing that you know for certain?
But more importantly. Yeah. You're right. There's no way of knowing for sure what course of action will make the world a better place. There's no way of knowing that anything short of futurists sacrificing the workers of the present to build a brighter future will be enough.
But if you are actually a rationalist, well. That is what you have to live with. You've got to be the scientist looking up at the sun and saying, "I don't know."
And then you should go and do things to make the world better without being sure of your prognostication of the future.
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notaplaceofhonour · 10 hours
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really fucking tired of this cycle of
*goy keeps talking about how October 7th was good actually*
*Jew says it’s bad actually*
goy: “why are you still talking about something that happened months ago, omg get over it 🙄anyways things that happened 70+ years ago were worse & Israel has done worse since”
like if we respond to someone else talking about oct 7, we get treated like we brought it up. and then our collective dead are constantly pit against each other by people with no stake in the conflict, like fucking points in a sports game.
& when it comes to talking about jewish & israeli trauma we have to treat oct 7 like a singular isolated event disconnected from the broader context of violence against jews & israelis, which we would never be expected to do for palestinians (nor should we). but we have to ignore the near constant attempts to murder israelis that have been made practically every single day of this war (and many days in the years long before) (and if successful probably would have already leveled the country by now) just because israel defends its people (and I am talking true defense, like the iron dome, not the offensive against hamas) while hamas actively puts its subjects in harm’s way.
like what, would you be happier if both sides had 36,000+ dead? if israel stripped the entire iron dome program away & let hamas & hezbollah’s rockets blow tens of thousands of Jews away, would that be satisfactorily “equitable” to you fucking vulturous ghouls? or if roles were reversed & more israelis finally did die, would you start doing this shit to the palestinians? if that happened, would you be this shitty to palestinians, denying their trauma, attacking them for talking about it?
because if so, how can you not see how much of a fucking monster you are. and if not, then stop fucking doing it to us. it’s no less monstrous when you do it to us.
how is it so fucking hard for you fucking vultures to not be so fucking heinous?
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mokulule · 2 days
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Dead on MAYn Day 1 - still untitled.
Prompts used: Dinner interrupted by a rogue/gang fight, courting rituals.
This thing keeps growing so I figured I should just post the first part. It will be continued eventually it’s kinda going places I didn’t expect. I am also using the flickering prompt, but it doesn’t appear in this first part.
Danny dug into his burger with gusto. It was not Nasty Burger, but it was greasy and cheesy and juicy and definitely hit the spot after a whole day walking about Gotham taking in the supernatural sights.
Sam was entirely less impressed with the vegetarian option and had set it down with a grimace and was now just picking at her fries. Tucker had taken it as a personal win for the Meat Team™ and was lording it over her with his eyebrows - thankfully he was too busy eating to actually say anything, which Danny was very glad of. You could only hear the same arguments so many times. At least age and maturity had assured they didn’t end their friendship over it.
“So,” Sam said, “What’s next after this?”

Danny finished chewing his mouthful, before speaking. “I’m not sure, I figured just go back to the hotel for a bit, chill until nightfall? Gotham’s court won’t be in session until then.”
“Seconded. My feet hurt,” Tucker chimed in.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend all your day sitting in front of a screen all day-”

And they were at it again… Danny tuned them out with the practice of years of being on the sideline, humming in agreement when prompted. He loved his friends dearly, but arguing was a part of their love language that he didn’t feel like participating in.
He let his eyes wander around the small diner, and found himself frowning as a group of men hurried inside.
If Danny had been less used to his ghost sense warning him of trouble, maybe he would have reacted in time - or at all. As it was he found himself frozen in shock when he saw the guns - regular human guns, not ecto-guns, ecto-guns he knew how to react to.
It was strange to realize that nobody had ever pointed a normal gun at him before and someone was pointing a gun at him right now - of course it would be in Gotham he got that experience.
“Hey you, stand up slowly and get over here. Hands where I can see them.”
Oh.
Danny’s brain suddenly caught up to the events.
A group of five armed men had entered the diner waving guns. Three kept their eyes on the door and windows as if they expected someone to follow them. One was moving behind the counter towards the back, maybe looking for the waitress who had skedaddled as soon as the armed men entered and the last one had his gun trained on Danny, who of all people in the diner he’d figured was the best option for a hostage.

Danny resisted the urge to laugh.
Slowly he did as bidden, raising his hands and standing up.
On the surface he wasn’t an unreasonable choice. He was short and lean, if he was completely honest he looked like a stiff wind could blow him over. Sam in contrast looked like trouble and Tucker had grown up annoyingly tall, and if Gotham police was like most places it was probably wiser to pick a white boy as hostage anyways. The rest of the people in the diner were two heavy set construction workers and a lady with arms broader than Danny’s thighs, like damn. 

So yeah, Danny was apparently the best choice. 

Regretfully, he left his dinner to cool on its plate as he took carefully measured steps towards the… what? Mobster? Gang person? 

A part of him was wondering how much a gunshot could hurt him. Would it hurt him? In human form probably, as long as he was tangible. Would it kill him the rest of the way? He wasn’t particularly keen to find out.
His eyes flickered to the other armed men when one of them hissed at the guy at the door. “Do you see him?”

Danny considered doing something for about three steps, but he wasn’t experienced enough with real guns and fighting humans that he thought he could risk it. He’d also prefer to fly under the radar while he was here. He was on vacation, not here to mess with anyone.
There was a familiar feeling in his throat, wanting to be let go. His head snapped towards the kitchen. What! That couldn’t be right?

The man grabbed him and put the gun to his head just as a crash sounded from the kitchen and the wisp of cold breath escaped his mouth. Everyone turned towards the noise. The man who held him tightened his hold and pushed the gun so hard against his head he had to tilt it. 

Something black came flying out the door and the jumpy gunmen shot at it, but with their attention on the object (a pan, it was just a pan) they didn’t notice the man who followed behind. He was fast, not much more than a red brown blur, shooting the furthest man in the arm so he dropped the gun and then coming in close, punching the first man and kicked the next in the belly. He moved so smoothly, effortlessly. 

Danny forgot to breathe. Because that there was the source of his ghost sense. Because that there was also a human.
Another halfa.

Here in Gotham of all places! 

His heart gave a hard thump in his chest and he gasped, remembered breathing was a thing he sorta needed as a human. He still couldn’t take his eyes off the other halfa. Now there was someone who knew how to fight. His core hummed pleasurably in his chest. The other halfa had taken care of those goons in less than ten seconds. The fourth one was probably dealt with in the kitchen. And the fifth-

Danny was abruptly reminded of how the fifth had a gun to his head, as he annoyingly poked him with that barrel and pulled him backwards towards the door.
“Not another step or he gets it!”
Danny grimaced. He finds another halfa and he’s a fucking hostage? Stellar first impression, right there! Someone please shoot him- or wait, considering the situation that was probably not the wisest turn of phrase. 

“How about you let the civilian go, and I won’t break your kneecaps.” The voice was menacing though clearly modulated and there was a delightful, almost cheerful undertone.
Now that he was standing still, Danny could better appreciate him. He was a big man, probably near a head taller than Danny and so much wider. Death had clearly not stopped him from putting on muscle. Normally Danny might have been jealous, but honestly he was too busy appreciating the other halfa. 

He was wearing a red helmet, faceless except for a pair of glaring eyes and he had a large bat symbol across his chest. This last bit should put Danny off. There were very good reasons Danny didn’t want to catch any attention here. He couldn’t think of them right now. But there were… reasons… yes… and thighs walking towards him-

“I swear I will shoot!”

Oh for fuck’s sake! There were too many people involved. Danny promptly stepped down on his captor’s instep, ducked and twisted out of his hold. 

Red Hood, because that was his name, Danny suddenly remembered, promptly shot the gun out of the man’s hold and took him down with a punch and a crunching kick to the right knee. 

Shit, Danny was jealous, not of the broken kneecap of course, but he also wanted to throw down. He could show the other halfa what he could do, make friends, or more? Would it be too forward to gift him one of his moon rocks?

It probably was too forward? This was the first halfa he met who wasn’t a fruit loop or related to him. At least he hoped he wasn’t a fruit loop.
“Are you alright?”
Danny shook himself out of his thoughts to find that he’d been approached.
Now that he was up close Danny could really appreciate how those arms looked strong enough to bend him in half and- Danny’s gaze stopped at his waist. Was he actually wearing a leather corset? It did great things for his-
“That was either brave or stupid.”
The words had Danny’s eyes snapping back up to the glaring helmet. Danny was frozen. How was he supposed to talk to him? His mind reeled. Do something! Anything!
“How’s this for stupid?” Danny blurted and promptly punched him in the gut with a good deal of ghostly strength. Red Hood bent over with a pained oof.
Fuck! Danny’s brain screamed at him in despair. He could not believe he’d done that! Glancing around he couldn’t find Sam or Tucker so he quickly ran out the diner. 

He was grabbing for his phone in his pocket while running, when he was pulled into an alley. He was so wound up he nearly threw another punch, but then he realized it was just Sam and Tucker.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Danny!” They spoke in eerie unison. Tucker snorted, but Sam continued, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Danny shook his head, realizing he must look a little dazed. He felt a little dazed. He didn’t even feel like taking the obvious bait.
“I punched Red Hood,” he admitted.
“What!” There they went again I unison, almost as if they practiced it.
“Do you think he’d like a moon rock?”
The looks they sent him then, they were indescribable. Absently he padded his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t grown a second head.
“Are you sick, Danny? Was there something in the food?” Sam put her hand on his forehead checking his temperature, even as she looked at Tucker, “What are the chances there’d be blood blossoms in a random burger?”

“Extremely unlikely, more likely something new, never seen Danny react like this.”
Danny grumpily pushed Sam’s hand away. “The food was fine. I’m fine.”

They gave him twin dubious looks.
“Look, let’s just go back to the hotel room. I just need a little rest and I’ll be fine.”

-
Jason gasped in pain to the sound of laughter in his comms. What the Hell was in that guy’s food that he could throw such a punch?
“What did he did the little guy do, Hood? Kick you in the jewels?” Dick managed to ask through laughter.
They didn’t have visuals, small mercies, but Oracle the traitor had let on to the former hostage’s scrappy stature in the run down of the situation.
“He did not.” Jason growled and turned off the comms, done listening to those idiots. Shit, fuck. Definitely a meta, that had been super strength. Keeping one hand over his pained abdomen he walked over to kick the goon who had decided to crawl for his gun in Red Hood’s apparent distraction.
“Don’t even think about it, I am not in the mood for it,” he growled and the goon whimpered.
When he finished securing the goons, of course the meta was long gone. Jason sighed in annoyance. Just his luck.
88 notes · View notes
hellfirenacht · 2 days
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Wing Man 11
Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
Chapter Summary: Steve talks shit. Paige and Eddie talk business.
5.2k words
(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10)
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Working for Family Video came with many upsides, especially when you worked with people who you also enjoyed seeing outside of the store. Rentals were already dirt cheap with your employee discount, and near expired candy and popcorn never quite made it into the dumpster out back and somehow magically appeared in your bag instead at the end of your shift. 
You always liked to think that Family Video was sponsoring your bi-monthly movie nights with Steve and Robin. The Harrington household was always the meeting spot, as he was the only one who had a tv and VCR in his room. Well, you did as well now after Keith had tossed out an old player, saying it was broken. You’d brought it home to tinker with and found that some kid had stuck gum in the tape slot. It had taken you a week to clean and another month to figure out how to hook everything back up, but it was yours. Steve still had the nicer home and tv though, and more importantly his parents bought brand name snacks. 
The three of you were in Steve’s living room, the movie playing on the screen long forgotten as the three of you caught up with each other. Robin was usually the barometer for if a movie was worth watching, she and Steve might have had very different tastes, but Steve would usually get sucked up into whatever movie she chose. 
“So is his band any good?” Robin asked, dumping a bag of m&ms into her bowl of popcorn. 
“I think so.” you shrugged, cracking open a drink. “If anything, they’re good enough to be scouted twice.”
“By the same person.” Steve pointed out. “You know, his ex.” 
You had brought the news of Eddie’s meet up with Paige to your friends with mixed results. Robin seemed indifferent, but that’s because most of the time she didn’t have the same interest in talking about boys. Steve, however, seemed less than thrilled about this idea. 
“Yes, Steve, his ex. As in, not together anymore.” you sighed, wishing you felt as confident as you sounded. “Whatever happened between them sounded like it blew up for both of them.”
“But she still wants to have lunch with him!” Steve said. 
“Yes, to talk about the band!” you shot back. “And it’s lunch. Didn’t you tell me that dinner is a date and lunch is just two people hanging out?” 
“Since when does my advice apply to you or Eddie?”
“Since Paige isn’t me or Eddie, so your dating advice might actually apply here.” you snapped and took a breath. “Sorry. This is all new to me. I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to feel right now. It’s like every time things start to go well with me and Eddie, something happens. Paige, Chris, you-”
“Hey-”
“I like him a lot.” You leaned back against the couch, grabbing the popcorn bowl from Robin. “When I’m with him, I get that same feeling that I do when I’m hanging out with you two or when I’m at the show every month. I don’t feel like I’m hiding myself when he’s around.”
“There are other weirdos and freaks around.” Steve pointed out. “If I had known there were that many of you around, I would have agreed to go to the show earlier to help you get phone numbers.” 
“Yeah, but have you seen the way she looks when she’s talking about Eddie?” Robin hopped into the conversation. “I don’t think anyone even existed to her that night.”
It was true, no one other than your friends and (unfortunately) Chris had truly registered to you at the show. Yeah, you’d noticed the few cast members but they weren’t the metal head with the long hair and crop top that had held your hand all night.
“Oh shit, did I tell you guys that we ran into Chris?!” You asked suddenly, changing the subject. 
“Wait, that guy you and Eddie kept talking shit about?” Steve turned to look at you, grabbing a handful of popcorn and getting crumbs on the couch.
“Yeah!” you said. “He actually works for the show now, I guess? He said he’s been there for a while and he’s seen me at the show before. It was so fucking weird.”
“Is that the guy who said you were too normal to play with Hellfire?” Robin asked. 
You nodded. “Yeah, and he ran Hellfire into the ground until Eddie took over. And now he’s doing tech for the show. Also, he was Rocky in the shadow cast.”
“The guy in the metallic shorts?!” Steve gawked. 
“Columbia did say that the cast changed for the night.” Robin said, and you gave her a quizzical look, remembering the lipstick mark you’d seen on her jaw that night. “She came by and talked to us before the show!” 
“She couldn’t resist my charm.” Steve gave you a smile that you were sure worked with someone like Nancy Wheeler, or Tammy Thompson. You just shook your head and laughed. 
“Right, anyway. Chris came and talked to us after the show and he told me auditions are gonna be open for the cast. He gave me his card, and told me that it was invite only.” you explained.
“You’ve been talking about wanting to be part of that since we started working together.” Steve said. 
“Yeah, I guess I get a shot to do something, too.” 
“Chris turned you down for Hellfire, and now is letting you audition?” Robin asked. 
“We aren’t in school anymore.” you pointed out. “I know how it sounds, but none of us are the same people we were back then. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, none of us are.”
“I hate it when you’re right, you know.” 
“I’m just saying that if I can give you the benefit of the doubt and make friends with you then maybe Chris isn’t as big of a prick as he was back then. I might not have even given Eddie a chance, either.” You picked out a few m&ms from the popcorn bucket, getting your fingers covered with butter and colored candy coating. “I mean, at the end of the day, isn't that what this whole deal was about? Shaking off old habits and trying to step outside of contentment?”
“I thought your deal was so that you can stop having Steve check you out every time you wanted to rent porn.” Robin snickered. 
“I thought we were just trying to get dates.” Steve looked confused and you gave him a pat on the head. It always amused you how his hair could spring back into place like that.
“That too.” you said. 
“So, you’re really okay with Eddie going to see his ex?” Steve said, forcing you back into that topic. 
”I’m not thrilled about it.” You finally admitted. “But we only went on one date and this might help his band. Besides, if we start... Whatever this is without some sort of trust then is it even worth starting?”
“So you trust him?” 
“I trust you and Dustin, who vouched for him. He was honest enough to tell me that it’s his ex who wants to talk about his band. What happens next is up to him.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” Steve relented and his eyes wandered back to the tv. 
You didn’t, but you were tired of letting other people tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. 
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Ever since Benny’s shut down, there wasn’t really any good place to meet up with someone for lunch in town. Every time he had seen Paige before, it had either been at the Hideout, or his van. Neither of which was really a good place to talk about Corroded Coffin. 
It was Paige’s idea to meet at the small hole-in-the-wall pub that was just out of Eddie’s comfort zone in terms of price. Eddie arrived on Saturday afternoon, earlier than he meant to with his nerves. He leaned against the wall outside of the pub, watched the cars go by as he waited for her. 
She didn’t leave him waiting for long, and ten minutes before their agreed upon time, Paige was standing in front of him for the first time in over two years. She hadn’t grown an inch, but her wavy dark hair had, and now barely brushed her shoulders. In the daylight, Eddie could see a faint tint of red that he never noticed before. Other than two or three times, he realized that he and Paige had never spent a lot of time together when the sun was out. Paige’s freckles were as prominent as ever. 
To Eddie’s surprise, she looked happy to see him. 
“Hi, Eddie.” she said, and to his relief she didn’t go in for a hug. 
“Hi, Paige.” He responded and reached over to open the door to the pub for her. 
The two didn’t say anything until they were sitting at a dimly lit booth in the corner, where Paige broke the ice. 
“Before we get into any business talk, I need you to be honest with me.” She started, sitting up straight and looking him in the eyes. “If you care about your future in music, and your band, you need to tell me what happened. Tell me how you ended up in jail two days before the most important moment in either of our careers.” 
Eddie had expected this, and the past week had been spent trying to find a way to spin the story so that he didn’t look like the biggest asshole on the planet. In the end, he decided that he should be honest with her. Paige wanted real, and he would give that to her, tarnish and all.
Someone came by and took their drink orders, giving Eddie a moment to collect his thoughts. 
“I did something stupid.” He started. 
“Obviously.” She gave him a wry smile. 
“Moving to California isn’t cheap.” He watched the tone of his voice, searching for that piece of him that made Hellfire and Corroded Coffin listen to him. Being a dungeon master for so long had given him a way of speaking that could draw someone in when he tried, and right now he knew he needed to try and convince Paige that Corroded Coffin deserved a second chance. “I needed a way to pay for everything that came with moving across country. My dad... he-” Eddie’s voice wavered for a brief moment. “He had an idea to make some quick cash for the two of us. It wasn’t smart, and it really wasn’t legal.”
“Jesus,” Paige sighed, looking at him with a deep frown. “I would have helped you, Eddie. I was already willing to let you live with me for free until we got you set up. I told you that you didn’t have to be alone in this.” 
Asking for and accepting help wasn’t something that Eddie was ever good at. He’d been hyper-independent since he was a child, when his dad would disappear for long stretches of time, even after his mom died. Asking for help after (or especially because) Paige had put in so much money and effort for him already, wasn’t something that he could bring himself to do. 
“I know.” Eddie said. “I had this stupid idea that if I didn’t make the effort on my own, then I didn’t deserve the change. So I did something stupid, really fucking stupid, and it cost me everything.”
“Mark told me that you shot a cop.” Paige said, and before Eddie could speak up, she continued. “I didn’t believe him. When I wired the money, I was able to get an idea of what happened. You saved that guys life.” 
“I couldn’t let him just bleed out on my yard.” Eddie said. “I couldn’t- it wouldn’t be right to run away like that.” 
“You really caused a lot of trouble, you know that?” 
“I know.” Eddie took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I did a lot of stupid shit I shouldn’t have, and I paid the price. It cost me more than just the audition.”
There was a time between getting the news about his audition with WR Records and the heist that Eddie flew. He had everything he had ever wanted; he got the girl, had his dad back, he had a future, which was something he never thought he’d have. For a few beautiful weeks, he had spiraled up, up, and up. 
In the end though, what goes up must come down. Eddie had reached for something that would never be meant for someone with the last name ‘Munson’. He had crashed back down to earth, to the reality of who he was and it had cost him everything. His dad, his childhood house, his audition, Paige, and even Ronnie for a short time. 
For the next two years, Eddie swore to never even think about reaching for the sun again. 
“Thank you for being honest with me.” Paige said. “I still think you’re an asshole.”
“I was an asshole.” He didn’t even try to fight it. “The biggest one in Hawkins.”
Even with her declaration, Paige still had a look on her face that was the ghost of an expression she had in the passenger side of his van on the night that she had given him the news that WR Records had liked him. 
“Things went downhill for me when you bailed on the audition.” Paige said, and Eddie swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He had never known what had happened with her after their fight over the phone. “I got in a lot of trouble because of you. Davey doesn’t like anyone, but he liked you. When I couldn’t get you out there, it really screwed up any trust I had with my job.”
She stopped talking for a moment as a waiter came by and dropped off their food. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to touch the overpriced sandwich in front of him yet. His mouth felt dry and he reached for his water instead. 
“I was stuck in a dead end job, where any talent I tried to bring to the label was shot down without being given a chance. I was being paid to do nothing, except babysit the studio and paperwork.  I got demoted, and I was already at the bottom of the totem pole.” Paige never looked away from Eddie, her gaze unflinching and sharp. “I stopped liking music.”
Guilt washed over Eddie, and there was something in him that screamed at him to run away to avoid this. Being the reason someone stopped liking music? He knew he’d fucked up but that... that was something deeper than just missing an audition. 
“They didn’t have the means to really fire me, I hadn’t done anything wrong.” she continued. “They moved me to a smaller label under the WR name. That label was where acts they had given up on went to die.”
“Which label?” Eddie managed to ask, despite how dry his mouth felt. Even the water wasn’t helping. 
“Left Turn Media.” Paige said. 
During those weeks when things had been good between the two of them, Paige had mentioned the label once or twice. It was considered a death sentence to be put on that label, and working for them was WR’s way to get people to quit without firing them. The two had listened to a few cassettes from the label. The bands weren’t bad, and that was what stuck out to Eddie. The music wasn’t bad, but it was clear that the production was lacking and half-assed. Paige said that the music would be sent out to small radio stations to be played in the middle of the night. 
“Shit.” Eddie said. 
“Yeah, shit.” Paige let out a laugh. “But if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn. I threw myself into my work. I’ve been spending the last two years breaking down and completely reassembling Left Turn, and now I’m in charge of it.”
“You.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her. “You’re in charge of Left Turn Media.”
“It’s amazing what you can do when you’re pissed and have something to prove.” Paige shrugged. “I had a lot of time to think about my relationship with music in the last few years. I realized if I wanted to bring something real to the music scene of L.A. I was going to have to do it myself.”
Her dark lips curled up into a smile. “I should almost thank you for fucking up. Because you bailed, I was put in charge of a sinking ship. I patched it up with my own time and money and now Left Turn has become the label for all misfit bands who don’t fit any shiny polished label. I proved to myself and everyone around me that I belong in this industry.”
“I-” Eddie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. “You’re welcome...?”
“We’re expanding the label outside of California.” She continued. “I’m in charge so I’m trying to bring good music to my hometown. It’s still not the biggest label, and we can’t offer half of what the bigger labels would, but it’s something.”
“And what are you offering?” Eddie felt dizzy, the more she talked. His words were careful, as if asking the wrong question could end in another blow up between the two of them. 
“What I’m offering is another chance for Corroded Coffin to be signed.” Paige’s arms crossed over her chest. “Left Turn is still finding its footing outside of L.A., so we’re flexible. I’m here to work with local radio and college stations around Indiana to get them to play the few bands we’ve signed so far. Who we have are okay, but they aren’t...”
“Real?” 
“Eddie you have something, as much as I never wanted to admit it again after what happened between us. There’s something about the way that you play that I haven’t been able to find since. I could do this without you, but I think that this is the real sink or swim moment. WR Records goes on with or without you, but I think what you have is what could turn Left Turn around.” Page took a deep breath. “If Corroded Coffin wants another shot, this would be it. If you still have that do-or-die energy when you play, I could offer you a real deal to put together an album. I could get you on the radio.”
Eddie listened to her words, taking in what she was offering. Yes, it wouldn’t be the easy street that WR would have been able to offer, but it would be something. And this time, it wouldn’t just be him auditioning, but Corroded Coffin was wanted this time. 
“You’re serious.” Eddie said, his heart rate picking up. 
“As serious as shooting a cop.” 
“Jesus.” Eddie couldn’t stop himself from letting out a laugh. He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his fringe as he replayed everything that Paige had just told him in his mind. She wanted him to audition again. This was a chance that he wasn’t sure could be passed up. 
“Some of the band is still in high school.” He said, feeling reality settle like a stone in his stomach. He didn’t mention that his name was on that roster. 
“Like I said, we’re flexible.” Paige said. “I still need you all to audition again, and even then it’s going to take me a few months to set anything up here for the band. I want you all to audition with me and a few others from the label before the end of the year. If everything goes according to plan, Left Turn might have the recording studio ready by next June.” 
“You’re setting up your own recording studio?” Eddie perked up, the anxiety and guilt that he had originally felt was now shifting into something new. He found himself relaxing enough to eat his overpriced sandwich. 
“Yes. We need something that’s a step above Live Mike Studios in Lafayette. We have the building picked out and are already gutting it for Left Turn.” 
“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” Eddie smiled at her. 
“I have.” Paige agreed. “But I learned not to put all my eggs into one basket. This industry has taught me to have a plan A, B C, and D.” She let out a long sigh. “I made it to plan L before and I would prefer not to do that again.” 
“What was plan L?” 
“If I go into the whole story, I’ll need a strong drink. It involved a guitar player with his head up his ass thinking he was going to be the next Gene Simmons.” Paige groaned. 
“Gene Simmons doesn’t play guitar.” Eddie pointed out. Paige gave him a thousand yard stare, which said everything he needed to know. “Ok. Gotcha.” 
“I’m hoping to get everything set up with minimal surprises.” She concluded. “Get with your band. I’m going to be in town for the rest of the year setting things up.”
Eddie nodded. “So... why Indiana?” he asked. “You were in California. Why come back here to set this up?”
“Like I said, I want to bring good music to my hometown. Once everything’s done, I’ll be able to move back and forth from California to here.”
“And Corroded Coffin?”
“Will stay in Indiana.” She said firmly. “I can’t turn you into the Rock Hero you could have been two years ago, but I can try and make you a Hometown Hero.”
Another story. Paige had always been good at spinning stories. Once upon a time, Eddie had been a barback turned frontman turned Rock Hero. Now he’d be barback turned frontman turned Hometown Hero. That part felt less believable than before. 
That’s how Paige saw him, but how did he see himself? Barback turned front man turned drug thief turned drug dealer turned uber senior? None of that was a story worth selling. And what about the rest of his band? Would Gareth, Jeff, or Zack want to be part of this? Ronnie hadn’t, she just wanted to play just to play. Jeff had been excited about this when the opportunity was first presented, but would he still want the chance? Gareth was the youngest and still had over a year of school left. 
One thing at a time. 
“I’ll talk to the guys next practice.” Eddie said. 
“Good. Are you still playing at the Hideout?” Paige asked. 
Eddie froze for a second, as he imagined Paige and you in the same space to watch him play. He imagined your excited face, and the way you would cheer for them after every song, the excitement that radiated off of you after every set. Even earlier this week, when you’d dropped by to watch them, knowing that Eddie was going to see Paige, you’d still shown the same enthusiasm as before. 
He’d thrown you another pick. You’d handed it back to him at the end of the night, telling him that he could toss it at you again next week. 
“You look like someone who loses your picks the second they are out of your sight.”
You’d been right. The only one he could consistently find was the one he’d turned into a necklace. His dad’s picks had been packed away, shoved under his bed where he wouldn’t see them. Eddie didn’t use those picks anymore. 
A few weeks ago, he couldn’t stop comparing you to Paige, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about how different you two were. 
“Yeah, we play on Tuesdays now.” Eddie said. “People stopped complaining enough that Bev decided to give us a steady slot.”
“Good to know.” Paige said. She wasn’t confirming or denying if she’d show up, but that look in her eyes said that he could expect to see her again soon. 
After all, The Hideout was the only place in twenty miles of Hawkins that offered any live music. 
For the rest of the meal, the two caught up with each other. It didn’t feel as weird as Eddie would have expected, but it was nice. He let Paige do most of the talking, letting her tell him about her work in the industry, he didn’t need her knowing more than she needed to if he wanted to have this shot. Would she want to sign a bunch of high schoolers? He hadn’t even told Paige the first time that he had dropped out when Higgins blackmailed him. 
That was alright for now though. Paige talking meant that he didn’t have to and he added to the conversation by asking plenty of questions about her work. Hearing about the music industry from her end was something that he had a genuine interest in, anyway. 
Paige told him about how she had been given a copy of Iron’s Maiden’s Live After Death by Davey. She was even willing to make Eddie a copy of it. It wasn’t the video, but he wasn’t about to turn down audio of one of his favorite bands that wasn’t even released in the US. 
When the check came, Paige didn’t even blink as she paid the tab and the two of them made their way outside again. It was still pretty early in the afternoon, and the chill of the late autumn air contrasted the bright blue sky.
Trying to still be somewhat of a gentleman, Eddie walked Paige to her car as she recounted the tale of how she had been on the flight from Indianapolis to Los Angeles where Izzy Stradlin had been arrested for pissing in front of everyone.
Paige stopped with her hand on the door to her car before turning around to face Eddie before getting in. 
“I don’t hate you, you know.” she said. “I was mad for a really long time at what you did. But I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Eddie.”
Eddie didn’t feel like he deserved the forgiveness she was offering him. Being told that he was anything other than some satanic cult leader or freak wasn’t something he’d ever get used to.  
“Paige I...” He wasn’t sure what to say. 
She had that look in her eyes, the same look she’d had after she’d given him the news about his original audition. What are you waiting for? Paige was moving closer, freckles like constellations on her skin and the moon in her eyes eclipsed by her eyelids. 
Eddie's hand fell on Paige’s shoulder before her lips could get any closer to his. “I can’t.” he said. 
Her face went through a few emotions. Surprise, disappointment, and settling on embarrassment. 
“Shit. Sorry.” Paige said, shaking her head. 
“No it’s.. It’s fine.” Eddie said, and he could have sworn that Paige looked just as confused as he did. “I don’t think it’s a great idea to do.... That.” 
Eddie hadn’t once entertained the idea of Paige and him together again. It didn’t feel right. He wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t find her attractive, but it wasn’t the same feeling he got that first night in the Hideout. As a teen, he’d been thrilled that a pretty girl was paying any attention to him at all, and was willing to do anything and be anything she wanted. 
Any relationship with Paige was business, plain and simple. She wanted a Rock Hero to help her get up the ladder, Eddie wanted to make it with his band. Sex had just been a bonus in their past relationship. Paige knew her stuff with music and the industry, but she didn’t rant about Ozzy and his bats, or have a real interest in D&D or put herself out there the same way that you- 
“I’m seeing someone.” He blurted out before Paige could say anything else. 
Paige looked surprised for a moment and shook her head and laughed. “Right. That... I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did that.” she admitted. “I guess I got swept up in this stupid fantasy about being a power couple. We’re a bad idea.” 
“I’m sorry.” Eddie said, not sure what else could be said in this situation. 
“Don’t be. You’re right, ‘us’ is a bad idea.” she ran her fingers through her hair. “It’s a good thing my offer isn’t dependent on if we’re sleeping together or not.”
“I know you bought me lunch, are giving my band a second chance, and forgave me for one of the biggest fuck ups of my life, but I don’t put out that easy.” Eddie smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.
Paige offered her hand and Eddie took it. “Business only then.” she said. “Talk to your band and call me to set up the audition.” 
Eddie watched Paige’s car drive off, and suddenly felt a lot lighter. He blasted his music and drove home, nearly laughing like a maniac. Today had been a wild roller coaster of emotions, and he couldn’t wait until the next band practice to bring the news to his band. 
At home, he grabbed his guitar and immediately began sorting through Corroded Coffin’s small pile of original songs, and the covers that they were able to perform the best. Eddie was off, lost in his own world as he wrote, re-wrote, and re-worked the set list. 
What would you think? Would you be excited for him? If this worked, he was going to make sure to get you concert tickets. Okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe you could at least come for the audition as moral support. His band liked you, so maybe they wouldn’t mind. 
Eddie didn’t come back down to Earth until the phone rang that evening after Wayne went to work. He almost missed the call because of how deep he was into perfecting the riff that had eluded him for the past few months, determined now more than ever to get it down. 
He reached the phone on the last possible ring. “Hello?”
“Hey... Eddie?” Your voice cracked over the phone, and that feeling of excitement came crashing down. “Sorry I... Can you come pick me up? I’m at home.” 
You were crying. He could hear it in the way your voice strained and cracked. He was already reaching for his keys. 
“I’ll be right there.”  
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a/n: As I stated before, I do like to try and keep everything as time accurate as possible. However things happen, and sometimes things are too good not to use. The Izzy Stradlin incident did not happen until 1989, but the fact that it was on a flight from Indianapolis to LA was too good to pass up. I also would like to notate that I did make a mistake when it came to the Ozzy Bat Incident. It was not a 17 year old girl, it was a 17 year old boy and the bat was already dead. Chalk that inaccuracy up to the tabloids of the time, and the lack of Google. No, this will not be addressed in the future of the fic unless it’s funny. 
Dividers By: @strangergraphics
Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n @mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea @vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93 @perpetualmess @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh @halialex1119 @siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288 @sheneedsrocknroll92
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Text
It all started under a duvet held up by an oar
Not so long ago I emailed Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat’s recently released CRPG Rogue Trader, and asked if he would like to sit for an interview with me. Having some experience in interviewing people I like, most famously Oscar winner and all-around sweetheart Eddie Redmayne, this was not a completely nerve-wracking endeavour. And within a day of sending my email, Chris said yes. And what a pleasure it was interviewing him: Chris was so generous with his time, that the agreed upon 30 minutes turned into 50 minutes as we brushed upon many topics from his start as a theatre actor to his first voice-over role in a video game to his recently discovered hobby of playing D&D. Of course, we also spoke about all things Warhammer 40k, his new found fame brought on by voicing Heinrix and the insights he could share about the character.
I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.
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Fran: Thank you very much for taking your time.
Chris Tester: That's no problem. No problem at all.
F: So then let's start. You graduated in 2008.
CT: I did. Yes.
F: You started out as a stage actor. Did you always want to become a stage actor or an actor in general? Tell us a bit about your career.
CT: I always wanted to be a stage actor. Yes, as soon as I knew that I wanted to be an actor, which probably wasn't until I was a teenager. But yeah, my first passion was always the stage, and that was kind of borne out in my career. I would have been open to TV and film of course, if it had come along, I'm a huge fan of TV and film as well, but I never got an audition for any TV or film work.
I think I literally did about three short films in my 10, 12 years of actually professionally acting, and it is one of those industries where the more you do of one thing, the more you seem to find yourself doing the same thing to a degree. So yes, watching Shakespeare from an early age was one of my first passions.
And that was what first planted the seed of wanting to do it myself. The whole aspect of live performance is still something that I'm very passionate about. Up until 2020, when the world changed, I was trying to do two or three theatre shows a year, but since 2020, I haven't been near a stage and I doubt right now, especially with the way that the UK theatre scene is going, that I'm going to be back on stage anytime soon. I am resigned to that, but at some point in my career, I know I will be on stage again, because I can't live without it, but only for the right thing, both financially, but more importantly, creatively.
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F: Your production company is currently on hiatus?
CT: I was the producer of a theatre company, which was run and was the baby of the director of the company, a guy called Ross Armstrong, who's one of the most talented writers and directors that I've ever worked with. I was helping out with a lot of the administration stuff so that he could still put me in plays. Instead of creating my own work because I'm not a very good writer or the best writer in the world, I support those people who will write me good parts. So yes, it is currently on hiatus, but never say never, we would always be looking to get back. It's difficult right now. It's difficult for all of us, because arts council subsidy, that way of being able to fund stuff, is drying up. We were doing a national tour of the UK when we were doing that [with the support of a subsidy]. There's even less money, there's even more people. I won't bore you with anything more than that, but it's kind of tough. We'd like to come back, but in the right way, and that's tricky to negotiate.
F: It's always hard as a stage actor to earn a living.
CT: Well, I've been spoiled by voice-over as well, and whereas when I was in my 20s and 30s then you're all about your art. And of course, I'm still all about my art, but I'm also about my wife and my cat and the mortgage and the bills and wanting to have nicer things to a degree as well. I've come to terms with that and voice-over does facilitate that as well as it opens you up to different roles and working with different people. So, I can't complain.
F: It's quite similar with making a living as a writer, because with a steady income you get used to a certain standard of living and once you have obligations and bills to pay, I think the stress on your mental health being creative and having all the stresses of regular life thrust upon you brings with it a challenge.
CT: It's a cliche we can very easily fall into: if I'm suffering, then it means I'm an artist. And that's not necessarily very true. It very often means that the art that we create only reflects one aspect of our lives, and it's usually a very tortured one. I am also about having wider experiences and broadening myself out. Whereas I think when I was in my twenties, I was thinking a bit more like: Oh, I'll experience the world and life through my art and just purely through my art. Whereas now necessarily I need to have a life outside of it as well, and then I can justify like I have the life so that I can feed my art or not, whatever. You know, I'll be a better artist by having a bit of a life outside of it. Maybe.
F: But that's what your twenties are for.
CT: Yeah, indeed.
F: Doing the crazy stuff, doing the band stuff 
CT: Yeah, yeah, exactly. So, there was certainly an aspect of that in my twenties.
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F: So, what brought you to voice acting or voice-over work initially?
CT: Money. Video game stuff is kind of sexy and cool, and I'm a gamer, so that's important. Before I was a video gamer, I was a board gamer and off the back of that, I was a voracious video gamer, partly because I wasn't very good at team sports at school. I was always the person who was picked last in the football team. So that becomes part of your identity for better or worse. But video games, I was pretty good at, not amazing, but I was pretty good at, and I enjoyed it. And it gave me a different form of escapism as well, and off the back of that I always had an interest in them. 
So, the very first voiceover job was a video game: Dark Souls, which is quite a big franchise. At that time, I was your very typically jobbing actor. My acting agent came in and said: I got something for you. And so, I went in with that. But it was only in 2016, 2017 that I realised it was something that you could actually do yourself. People had recording studios at home and they were contacting people directly, not just going through agents. Because I'd basically written to the same 20 voice agents in the UK, mainly in London for like eight years in a row and not received anything. So, you keep knocking on those doors hoping. 
Before I'd even graduated from drama school, I'd burnt a CD and made these cases with my headshot on it and sent them all off at what at the time felt like great personal expense and didn't get anything for eight years in a row.  So, I was a bit like, I'm obviously doing something wrong, but I don't really know what, because I'm doing these workshops and getting good feedback. Then I found out through a couple of online courses, that there were ways and means of doing it myself, and that was a bit of a game changer for me, and within six months of having started, I was earning more through voice work than the bar job and the box office job that I was doing combined. Within six months, I was kind of like: “I gotta quit because I'm actually holding myself back from things.” So that was quite a big shift.
F: Somewhere you said, you started out under a duvet and with an oar.
CT: Yeah. On my website, I do have an image of it. [Dear reader, I could not locate this elusive photo] I literally had to take the duvet off my bed and put it into the living room, which was the quietest space in my then shared flat. I also had to wait until after one flat mate had watched TV and another one had used the table that had their washing on it. One of my flat mates had stolen an oar from some night out and that was perfect in order to be able to erect it over my head and the duvet as a frame. 
I did probably the first four or five months of voice recording like that. Probably about 10, 15 voiceover jobs that I actually got paid for, I was using that because it worked well enough. Since then, I've gone through various different iterations of a setup in the bedroom, to a setup in the hallway, to my current setup. In 2020 we moved to our first house, and this is the spare bedroom which I've had converted into a studio, which means my cat can be here asleep on me or near me getting fur everywhere, but it's fine. I can thrash around and I've got natural light to work in at the same time, which I find quite important. [Pictured below Chris' current setup.]
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F: Very pretty. That's good. Guide us through a typical day of yours, if you like.
CT: Oh, sure. I mean, there is no typical day. And yet, and yet, and yet. A typical day for me is, because I am spending the vast majority of the day sitting in this room or somewhere close to this room, because I may need to record at short notice, because the vast majority of jobs are quite short notice. My priority is exercise for mental health more than anything. I've got some weights at the bottom of the garden, and I will get up first thing, and I will go there and I will do that after breakfast. And that's my minimal routine of physical activity done. 
And then I'll come back, and this is so rock and roll. Now what I do is, I spend like an hour on LinkedIn. And that's what you dreamed of as a creative person. Isn't it as an actor? I spend time on LinkedIn regularly every day, because it's a really good networking place for a lot of my types of work, and first thing in the morning, I'm a bit mentally sharper. So that's when I come up with a quick post that may be inspired by a bit of content that I've made elsewhere. That probably takes about 20 minutes and then I spend another 45 minutes to an hour engaging with people and saying hi and introducing myself and asking questions, whether that's with video producers or game developers or documentary makers or pretty much anything and everything. There are a lot of people who are active at that time. And so I do it.
And then after that, if I already have some recording lined up, then I'll prioritise mid-morning, because I've warmed up physically a bit more then, and I'm focused. So, you're going through the scripts, annotating the scripts, recording the scripts, editing the scripts. But then there could be live sessions at any time within that as well. I try to keep hours from nine till six. But occasionally, like with Rogue Trader, that was recorded at various different times of the day because we had people in New York, we had people in mainland Europe, and we had people in the UK. So all different time zones, so that can happen at any time. 
And then I try to do other kinds of bits and pieces of marketing whenever I've got free time to. I do use really exciting productivity hacks, like time blocking. Again, not something that as a creative individual, I was like: Oh God, this gets me so excited, because it doesn't, but it works. It's finding a system that works for you, but still has a certain kind of flexibility and fluidity. I'm trying to make sure that I get outside of the house, and that kind of stuff. 
Recently, over the last year, I’ve started doing audiobooks as well. That long form type of thing is quite nice to be able to dip into because sometimes you don't record for two, three days. You don't get the work. Nothing’s coming in. So, you’re marketing, but it kind of connects you back to the performance side of things to go: I can do a few chapters and you know, that kind of thing. So that's probably it. I try to formalise it, but you know, every voice actor’s day is radically different. There are people, some of the biggest names, going into different studios every week or every day. I very rarely, despite being based in London, I very rarely go into external studios. Like I would say 99 percent of the work I just do from home.
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F: So how do you find the right voice for the specific type of voiceover work you do, maybe start with how did you find Heinrix's voice?
CT: Thankfully, Owlcat sent through quite a detailed casting breakdown. So, you get a picture, and that's pretty crucial, as well as a short bio, in terms of the background of the character, but not too much, because you have to sign an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement. But even if you do sign an NDA, I think developers are always slightly hesitant of giving you too much info about the game because things could still be changed. But I think I did get a picture of Heinrix, if not in the first audition, then certainly on the second one. From that you immediately think about the physicality and what might affect the voice, and there was also some direction in terms of what they were looking for. Anybody who has heard the character and me, they do not sound radically dissimilar. There's not a transformative process that I needed to go through, other than his sense of authority and the space that he takes up and the sureness that he has in that he has a kind of divine right from the emperor, so that level of confidence being brought through.
The other part of the audition was about the void ship [the Black Ship] that he'd been raised in and the horrors that he'd seen. And you as the actor have to do the detective work to go like this is showing another side, the more vulnerable side, the side that underpins all of his life choices up to this point. It's essentially playing the opposite to a degree. So it was kind of knowing when to let those elements bleed through a little bit. I think I had probably about a page worth of scripts, quite a lot of script actually to audition with. 
But I don't like to listen back to it a lot, because I think you get into your head. My biggest thing is stage work where it's ephemeral. You say it once and it could be different the next night. The whole point is that there's no one definitive way of doing things. Not quite the same with voice acting, where it's being recorded and you've got to get used to hearing it back. But I try not to overthink it. Just like record it two or three times with different impulses and then review and go like, those two seem pretty contrasting. I'll send those along and hope and then never hear anything back unless I do.
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gin-juice-tonic · 6 hours
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Hey, I recall your past post on how you dont really like Dreamscaperers given it endorsed Stan's toxic masculinity passing down the generations. If you were to rewrite the episode, how would you address that instead?
Well I'm no tv writer, but I know I'd at least cut this scene:
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This is the part I consider the actual endorsement. Stan having grown up the way he did and even sorta believing his dad was "doing something good for him" is good character insight and I don't really have a problem with the parts that take place inside his mind like that.
But this bit's taking it too far... They can put all the "tender moment" sound cues over this scene they want to, but it'll never be more than Dipper internalizing something bad.
Not to mention. Stan's not even against hugs or other more gentle types of affection, not even in earlier episodes season 1.
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So it's weird to pretend like he suddenly is for an episode.
But the problem with trying to re-write the episode to address it is... there just isn't a lot of time. That episode's incredibly plot heavy, there's not really a lot else that could get cut from it. If we were going to do something short, maybe Dipper could've just given Stan a regular hug and Stan hugs him back makes a face where we can see that he's gotten that he could be softer on Dipper...
(Late Edit: I also just thought of this: How about instead of Dipper being touched by the scene of mental Stan telling Soos he's "almost kind of proud of him", maybe Dipper should've just full on lashed out at mental-Stan. Told him how his behavior really makes him feel, and then maybe Stan wouldn't remember that conversation necessarily in the real world, but it affected his ideas of how to treat him?)
Ideally if there were more time it could've been something Dipper brings up to Mabel at some point and she could've helped him see how wack it is. And maybe they could've resolved to soften Stan up on this together. But there's no way you could've fit that into Dreamscaperers itself.
Now, where there could've been space is just to re-address the point in a later episode. They could've done it with Mabel like I suggested above, maybe brought in Wendy or Soos as well. But I also think Ford could've been a good candidate for this, as his whole Job in the show is basically to shake up the accepted status quo of the first season and a half.
I made these two comics (well, three actually, but the third is less relevant) as my own way of getting to see this:
https://gin-juice-tonic.tumblr.com/post/740101460691468288/the-incident
https://gin-juice-tonic.tumblr.com/post/740113001711124480/im-gonna-link-the-previous-comic-again-even
(that second one being where Stan sort of owns up to his behavior)
I'm not saying we have to take away Stan's gruffness or how he was raised but, at least indicate his ideals are worth changing, somehow.
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Random thought popped into my head but it's about vampire Kate x reader. What if reader was a witch of some sort who got her heart broken because Kate is an fboy and became terrified and left when she realized how much she loved the reader but came crawling back a year later because she needed reader's witchy help and they ended up casually flirting because they clearly still have feelings for each other and stuff
ain't that the kicker [K.Bishop]
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pairing: vampire!kate x reader
summary: the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that. [aka you and kate have way more issues than you thought]
warnings: none, i think?; did somebody order angst?; so much tension, you need more than one knife; i rob you of a longer wanda scene; cliffhanger ending because this got too long; weird vampire powers that are badly explained; very long dream sequences; a surprising lack of actual vampire stuff [i badly need to rewatch first kill]; idiots in love but emphasis on the idiots!
wodcount: 3.2k
a/n: hey everyone, my motivation was pretty dead for a while but, unsurprisingly, vampire kate brought it back! and before you all freak out, YES! THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART! and maybe it'll be less sad and more spicy, who knows? anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me and my constant disappearing act. my second year at university is wrapping up so hopefully you’ll see more of me this summer ;) that's all i have to say, hope you enjoy <3
* * * * * * *
Saying going home with Kate Bishop had been a bad idea would be a massive understatement.
You knew being alone with the heir of Bishop Security would come with problems but the problems all seemed relatively small compared to the continuous waves of pleasure you had been under all night.
To be fair, though, you never expected a grainy picture of you on Kate's lap to be part of that list of problems. You had expected some awkwardness from the charming brunette, the usual "we can't do this again" speech while actively making out in some random storage closet, maybe even some weird looks from your co-workers to further complicate things.
Your original plan had featured everything except you going viral overnight and waking up to the biggest PR disaster to ever hit Bishop Security. (Which is saying a lot considering the many one-night stand scandals Kate always finds herself wrapped up in)
You had so many ideas of what the morning after would be like but none of them included you waking up to an empty bed and a large pit in your stomach that tells you you fucked up big time.
Maybe it had been your fault, maybe you had been too naive for thinking you could really have it all.
Or maybe Kate was right. Maybe she had a longer list of enemies than you had been willing to entertain.
There were far too many “maybe’s” in your mind, an overwhelming amount of notifications on your phone, and you had no idea where Kate had gone.
You’re not sure how long you spend scrolling through Twitter and avoiding all the texts filled with unanswerable questions from your co-workers but eventually, you manage to regain control of yourself and get up from the archer’s ridiculously comfortable bed. You do your best to ignore how shaky your legs are as you get dressed, your mind unfortunately drifting to the night before.
You manage to find your way to the kitchen where there's a full spread of, slightly burnt, breakfast waiting for you. Your heart swells as you read the messy handwriting on the post-it note next to the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve ever seen.
Morning, sunshine. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I made a bit of everything. Eat as much as you can, you’ll need a lot of food and water to recover from last night ;) - Kate
It’s impossible to stop the wave of relief that crashes into you after reading that.
As impossible as it feels, you allow yourself to believe things will be fine. That Kate will stick by your side after opening up to you about her supernatural abilities.
But the fantasy doesn’t last long.
You’re halfway through your breakfast when you hear the front door slam shut with so much force you briefly wonder if the hinges came off. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for the archer to appear in front of you, her shoulders tense and an unreadable storm in her eyes.
Her posture already tells you the answer to the question forming on your lips but you ask anyway. “Everything okay?”
She seems almost startled by the sound of your voice as if hearing you makes you real.
It makes the mess you’re both in real.
“No,” she sighs. “I have some shitty news.”
“Shittier than being called a slut by all of New York?” You reply, unable to stop the urge to make her smile.
Kate doesn’t fully smile but she does let out a small chuckle, her shoulders dropping into a less tense position as the sound escapes her. “Yeah…shittier than that.”
You should’ve known where the conversation was headed. Should’ve realized there was no way you’d be able to have it all. No way for you to continue with your life as if nothing had happened.
Maybe you are too naive because you truly didn’t see her next sentence coming.
“y/n…I have to fire you and we...we can’t do this again. This has to be goodbye.”
Everything crashes into you at once.
The realization of what you’ve actually done, the stupid ease with which Kate is cutting you out of her life, the betrayal of her practically kicking you out onto the streets. You’re not an idiot, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to keep your apartment, your humble yet expensive life in New York, without your job.
Without her.
“You…you’re serious? You’re throwing me out just like that?”
“It’s not easy for me either-”
“It looks pretty damn easy, Kate.” You scoff.
“You’re not the one who spent her whole morning getting chewed out by her mom.” Her words come out like an afterthought, like she knows just how badly she’ll fuck up if you hear the annoyance behind them.
Unfortunately for her, you hear her loud and clear.
“Oh, come on. That’s your excuse? You had one bad conversation with your mom and suddenly I don’t mean anything?”
She doesn’t reply and her silence only serves to stoke the flames of fury and resentment rising within your chest.
“Do you know how many death threats I’ve gotten in the last hour? How many coworkers have tried to blackmail me already? Do you understand just how much of my life this has ruined? And you have the audacity to act like you have it hard?”
“Don’t pretend like you know anything about my life,” she spits back. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it, Katherine. If I didn’t know you, if you didn’t care, why the hell did you tell me your dirty little secret?”
She blinks, taken aback by the hard-hitting truth you throw her way.
If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t notice the way she nervously fidgets with her fingers or the way she bites down on her lower lip while she tries to come up with something to say. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t know she’s hurting underneath.
You do know her, though, but knowing her isn’t enough if she’s not willing to let you stay.
So, because you do know her…you walk away.
It feels like giving up in the most infuriating of ways but it’s the only thing you can do. If Kate’s mind is made up, there’s no amount of reason that will get her to change. That’s another thing about her you’ve learned the hard way.
So you swallow your pride and walk away with no plan, no job, no way of supporting yourself. If you were a more spiteful person, you would have applied for a job at Stark Industries but instead, you do the second hardest thing you’ve ever done.
You restart.
It’s a bitter defeat and still, you pack up your things and pay an old friend a visit.
You had left Wanda behind after the Westview fiasco but she’s the only person you can think of running to after your entire life went up in flames. All it takes is one quick spell and the realization that a life without dark magic isn’t one you can live before you’re standing on the porch of her small cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Saying she’s disappointed would be an understatement, especially since she explicitly warned you not to fall in love with Kate Bishop. It’s hard to believe the witch knew about Kate’s vampire secret but you also wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what awaited you the second you left for New York.
Unfortunately, you had to learn things the hard way.
You could write multiple books on everything you’ve learned the hard way.
At the top of that list, though, is the true extent of a certain archer’s vampire powers.
It takes less than a month for Kate to reach you again…through your dreams. Dreams that feel far too real and leave you a tad bit more breathless than you’ll ever be willing to admit.
The first time it happens, you assume it’s one of Wanda’s new tricks, maybe it’s her way of helping you cope with what (or rather who) you’ve left behind. You think it’s weird but maybe a tad bit sweet and you make a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.
It’s not until you realize that you’re actively thinking that you start to worry.
To make matters worse, you’re inside Kate’s apartment…and she quite literally stumbles out of her bedroom to see you standing in the middle of her living room.
“Oh, shit.” She groans.
Your heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice. You know you’re just dreaming and yet it all feels so real. It’s like you can feel her eyes on you, hear the way your heart won’t stop pounding in your ears.
Your confusion must be written all over your face because she answers your question before you can even ask it.
“Yes, you are dreaming but this isn’t like a normal dream.”
“What the fuck happened to you not being a mind reader?” You blurt out.
You wait for that stupid smirk of hers to appear, maybe with a half-assed shrug and a semi-charming joke, but it never comes. “My dream, my rules, I guess.”
“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on.”
A beat of silence goes by before she sort of gives you an answer. “I can explain but you might hate me afterwards.”
The look in her eyes says more than you can possibly handle right now. You’ve never known Kate to be particularly insecure but all you can see in those blue depths is fear and insecurity. Fear that your feelings for her have changed, that you already hate her and never want to hear from her again.
Too bad you’ve never been good at lying.
“Try me.”
The corners of her mouth quirk up into a small smile. “Long story short, we’re bonded. That’s why we’re in each other’s dreams.”
There’s a bigger question to be asked but you’re still a little freaked out by how real this all feels. By how intense your feelings for her still are.
“But this isn’t like a normal dream, is it?”
“Nope, perks of having vampire powers.”
“So, you can do everything except read minds?” You can’t help but tease her like all the times before. “That sucks.”
“Shut up,” she says with an over-dramatic roll of her eyes.
A calm silence falls over both of you and you hate how normal it feels. How just like that, you forget your anger and the betrayal you’ve felt every minute since the day you left New York in favor of falling for her stupidly enchanting self all over again.
It doesn’t help that with every second, the distance between you gets smaller and smaller.
You don’t know who takes the first step, all you know is you blink and suddenly she’s standing right in front of you, those soft blue eyes of hers searching for the truth you can’t hide.
“y/n,” she murmurs, her hand tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted.”
She’s technically not wrong, leaving because of her incapability to deal with her feelings was the last thing you wanted, but it’s not like you had any other choice.
She didn’t give you any other choice.
And now she’s here, staring at you with that wounded puppy look she so effortlessly embodies.
“I wanted you,” you whisper in response. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”
She chuckles, the sound warm but nervous. Her hand moves to cup your face and her touch is so soft, it leaves you breathless for a moment. “Never, I’m too stubborn for that, remember?”
You can’t help but tease her as the atmosphere shifts into something more affectionate than you’d like. “How could I forget? It’s your worst trait.”
“Ouch. Is that how you treat your favorite vampire?”
“Aw, poor little vampire baby.”
You wait for her to make one of her usual jokes but she doesn’t.
Instead, her eyes drift down to your lips and your mind instantly goes blank.
There’s an endless list of reasons why you shouldn’t do it. Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it isn’t a bad idea. Then again…when has that ever stopped you from being with Kate Bishop?
It’s subtle but you lean forward just enough to give her the invitation she’s too much of a gentleman to ask for. Her eyes widen the slightest bit before she meets you in the middle, the space between your lips becoming nonexistent in the span of a few seconds.
You try your hardest to hold on to your self control, to not seem as desperate as you’ve felt since that first night, but it’s useless. Your hands grip the front of her shirt in an attempt to pull her closer despite how insane everything is.
You’re simply dreaming and yet you can feel every touch, every breath, every desperate effort to make your desires a reality. You would feel embarrassed if Kate wasn’t acting the same way.
Her lips leave yours only to trail down to your neck, her fangs instantly teasing the sensitive skin she finds. The anticipation builds inside your chest as she toys with you and it’s all you can do not to beg for more.
“Kate.” Her name leaves your lips in the form of a whisper that disappears just as fast as it formed.
All you hear is her sharp intake of breath before it all fades to black.
Your eyes snap open and you’re greeted with the absolute silence you’re starting to associate with Wanda’s cabin. All you can do is lay there in the darkness, your heart pounding in your ears while your fingers trace the spot Kate’s lips had just been on.
It had all felt so real and now you’re all alone again. It shouldn’t be surprising at this point and yet you still hold on to the hope Kate will come looking for you.
But she doesn’t.
All she does is haunt your dreams in the most literal way possible. She doesn’t come to find you and fix your many, many issues, instead, she simply appears in your dreams long enough to send your mind reeling without offering any solutions.
You wish you could hate her for doing this to you but you can’t.
You love her.
Worse than that, you love her more and more each night. Even though it’s not nearly enough to heal any of your wounds, and maybe it only serves to hurt you more, it’s definitely addicting.
Wanda offers to help you sever the connection between you and Kate, something about a spell she read in the Darkhold being her only assurance that she knows what she’s doing. You don’t fully trust her on that but you do consider the option for longer than you want to admit.
You reason with yourself that there are much worse things to deal with on a daily basis than highly realistic dreams, though. That being bonded to a vampire isn't the worst thing in the world.
And maybe that would be true…if the vampire in question wasn't Kate Bishop.
You don't know what possesses you to ask but the question slips out in the middle of another midnight rendezvous. It’s been a little over two month since you moved away from New York, a little over two months since you've shared these weird dreams with Kate, when you finally ask.
“What exactly did you do for us to be bonded to each other?”
The question must catch her off guard given the way her eyes widen in panic. “What?”
“You said these weird dreams happen because we’re bonded or something but you never explained how that happened.” You watch the brunette from your spot on the couch and impatiently wait for a response, for something that will help you make sense of everything.
She swallows back her nervousness but gives herself away due to the way she fidgets with the rings on her hand. “Oh, yeah, that…it’s because I bit you that night in my apartment…remember?”
Her awkwardness would be endearing if her response wasn't so damn suspicious.
“Yeah but you're a vampire, biting people is kind of your thing. You're not automatically bonded to every person you bite, right?”
A beat of silence passes before she answers, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “No that…that only happens when there are…certain feelings involved.”
It takes a second for her answer to click in your brain. For her sudden nervousness to hold real meaning.
The answer hits you like a train and it makes your blood boil like nothing else.
“Kate, tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means. Tell me you didn't fire me because you were too afraid of having feelings for me.”
“y/n-”
“For fuck’s sake, Kate!”
The sudden frustration in your voice makes her jump, hundreds of meaningless explanations forming on the tip of her tongue.
You don't hear a word she says.
You can't hear anything besides the pounding in your heart and the devastation that threatens to swallow you whole.
You always knew being with Kate would be impossible but this was something else entirely. This wasn't a lack of feelings between you two, this was too many feelings and too many miles of distance and not one ounce of regret from her.
You're not sure when you stood up from your spot or when she approached you, you simply feel her hand on your waist and the unmistakable sound of her breathing.
“y/n,” she tries again. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m so tired of hearing you say that.”
“I know.”
The last thing you feel is her lips on the back of your neck before you wake up. Alone. Again.
Wanda must catch on to your desperation because she brings up the idea of cutting your connection with Kate that same morning.
“It’ll only be temporary,” she assures you. “No offense but you need sleep more than you need Kate Bishop.”
“I’m a little offended,” you grumble in response.
Despite your reservations, and the voice in the back of your head that tells you running away again is a bad idea, you go along with her plan. She's right, after all. You definitely need some time away from Kate Bishop and her never-ending messes.
The spell is simpler than you expect and it, thankfully, requires pretty much no effort on your part and no weird liquids.
It does also bring the best sleep you’ve had in months so you can’t complain…even when you wake up missing the sound of the archer’s voice.
You still miss her every day and you're sure that won't change any time soon but you welcome the peace with open arms.
Wanda spends her time teaching you random spells while you help her build a nice flower garden in the backyard. It's weird but…comforting.
You could even get used to life out here someday.
At least, that's what you keep telling yourself as the weeks go by.
Until Kate shows up unannounced and flips your world upside down again with those same soft eyes you fell on love with all those months ago.
80 notes · View notes
seillarium · 2 days
Text
melt my heart and claim it as yours
tl;dr. the classic 5+1 fic for my one and only love
pairings : portgas d. ace x reader
notes : mild angst (?), happy ending, no pronouns used (as far as i know) but written with fem reader in mind, no proofread, lowercase intended, a few profanities, english isn't my first language, overuse of italics lol, PORTGAS D. ACE LIVESSSS
word count : roughly 3.5k words
sincerely, sei : AAAAAARGHHH OMGOMG I FINALLY FINISHED IT ACTUALLY HOLY SH 😭😭 anyway, please lmk if there are grammatical errors, or typos, hopefully i don't fumble this, i think it's not rlly good. but to be fair, i was experimenting 😥 and how the fuck did i write 3k words??? where did that even come from
─────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ───────
I.
you're a new recruit of the whitebeard pirates, having been rescued from an organization that experiments on people—honestly you didn't think you'd live this long with how things were going with your life.
you were hesitant at first, meekly greeting the members of the seemingly kind pirates around you. as far as you knew, pirates were pictured as barbaric, evil, and cruel. but all that you see are warm people that see each other as family. it left a foreign feeling in your chest, one that you can't seem to decipher.
but you have only one thing in mind: do you belong here?
-
your first day on the moby dick was chaos. good chaos, you convince yourself. you were utterly overwhelmed by the amount of people, and holy fuck, did you just get a thousand siblings in less than a day??
they threw a party, for the new nakama, they said. it was heartwarming to say the least, and a small smile appeared on your face for the first time ever since you were put into that hell.
you try to put your mind into what was happening now, 'stop thinking about that, you have a new life ahead of you.' there were a lot of people introducing themselves, though you can't understand most of them. you were dragged, pushed even, as the dining area was suddenly filled. maybe the term 'barbaric' was fitting for them, after all.
the first to approach you one on one was the first division commander; marco. he had checked if you were doing alright, and all you did was smile and nod—biting your tongue, trying not to mention how you think he looks like a pineapple.
the second would be thatch, he was a tad drunk drunk and his mind is cooked. his flirtatious words were slurred. he called you multiple names, he claimed that your smile is quite fetching. you weren't really affected, he is amusing, though.
a few more approached you, some just greeting briefly, some were inviting you to drink (you didn't, the taste of alcohol is shit anyway), and some just gave you a warm "welcome to the crew!"
they sure are a rowdy bunch, you think, as you were leaning on the railing. then another person approached you. he leaned on the railing next to you, copying your position.
when you finally looked at him, your mind short-circuited for a moment. the mysterious man was certainly attractive. he's topless, that's what stupefied you for a second. not that you never saw any other guy who walks without any shirt—this one just has a nice figure, definitely easy to look at.
"hey there! you're the new recruit, yeah? my name is portgas d. ace, it's nice to meet you."
his voice startled you, whoops, you're staring, how inappropriate. he's bowing politely, and it baffled you for the nth time today because; what is this, a pirate crew whose motto is 'we're different from other pirates'?! you had never met a pirate this polite your whole life. you ought to pinch yourself; maybe this is a silly dream after all.
"hello? earth to you, er.." he waved a hand to your face, only then did you look to his face. great, so you were looking at his open tits first?
"(name). it's nice to meet you." you greeted back with a small smile, and he grinned. oh, he looks so... kind. you felt your heart thump—or did it actually stop?
"(name), huh? what a pretty name for a pretty face." oh, cheeky. he's got a coy grin on his lips now. he's like thatch, then. but he succeeded to make you blush slightly.
"thanks...?" wow, way to go! you honestly didn't know what to reply, given that you were locked up for about 5 years with almost no social interaction with others.
he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he looked pleased at your answer. though, he did seem to notice your uncomfortable shift. he props his elbow to the railing, resting his cheek on his hand. "you're adorable."
and your mind clogged again, face exploding into a deep red as you furrowed your eyebrows, forming a confused expression. he seems sober, and he says it like he means it. the temperature just skyrocketed, must be from how flushed your cheeks are.
he laughed at your expression, and you found yourself liking the carefree sound and his boyish grin. he gazed at your eyes again, slightly pink cheeks and a grin that screams mischief. more compliments spill from his mouth. looks like you're in for an embarrassing night.
-
once the night ended, ace slapped a hand on his mouth, his cheeks flushed—fuck, his shoulder's on fire. he was mesmerized by you, thus, the sudden compliment escaped him. he didn't mean to, but with your reaction? oh he wanted more. he honestly thought flirting would be a good way to take your mind off of things, thank god he didn't fumble. such a miracle you didn't notice how his back was on fire the whole time...
II.
weeks had passed since you became a whitebeard pirate. you learned a lot of things. one, you were living under a rock, literally and figuratively. the lab that you were once in was underground. you've been there since you were 15, causing you to lack knowledge about the recent happenings in the outside world.
two, it was hard to keep up and remember each of their names. your overwhelmed brain is turning into mush at this point, thankfully they're kind enough to say their names over and over again for you.
three, ace. that's it, ace. you learned that he's some kind of lost dog. trailing you everywhere you go, not that you're complaining. honestly if he wasn't sticking to you, you'd be sticking to him.
there's this magnetic pull that drags you to him, seems like you couldn't resist his warm nature. like a moth to a flame you were attracted to him. and you feel yourself burn, not in a bad way—like you were succumbing to his very fire and you think you'll be fine as ashes if it meant you'd be closer to him.
but it's like, his fire flickers when you move forward. he let's you near, but never close. it's like you know him, but you can't get a grasp on what he's thinking at times. like he's keeping you at arm's length.
that does not stop the flirting, though.
"hey, I'm lost, can you give me directions to your heart?"
"if you were a triangle, you'd be acute one."
"aren't you tired? you've been running through my mind all day."
you're becoming a puddle of goo, it just gets embarrassing to the point you can't even form words.
"hey, (name), do you have a pen and a paper?" he suddenly approached you as you were walking around the ship. you shook your head 'no', surprised he's not making moves today.
"damn, no pen, no paper, yet you still draw my attention." he said with a shit-eating grin and a wink. "...."
"wait! (name)!!"
III.
a day alone with ace in a strange island is absolute havoc. you wonder how it's possible for one person to destroy half of a forest. well, to be fair, he is fire.
"are you a dumbass?!" you screeched, running away as fast as you can while a strange lion goes after you both. ace tried to pet it, you almost did too and out of a sudden everything went haywire.
"i didn't know it would be immune to fire!!" he screeched back, holding your wrist and practically dragging you.
"why the hell did you even try and pet a wild lion in the first place?!"
-
you're now sitting by a bonfire, lit by yours truly. you hug your knees to your chest, watching as the fire dances in the air.
the lion incident has passed, finding out it's actually frightened by water. you crossed a river and found a hilltop—which is where you are right now.
"you still cold?" he asked, sitting next beside you.
"kind of," not really, you're not exactly freezing, you just want more. of him, preferably.
he scooted closer, your shoulders touching. and heat immediately seeps through you. and for a moment you just relished his body temperature.
then the next thing you knew, your whole being was enveloped by his warmth. his arms looped on your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. he sent you a smile, and god, everything about him is warm.
"are you a campfire? because you're hot and i want s'more." and just when you though you could sit in peace.
"ace, you're literally the hot one between the two of us." you answered, exasperated to your wits' end. "aww, you think I'm hot?" you didn't know if you want to slap the smirk off his face or bury yourself 6 foor under.
"n-no?! i mean, you are, literally—" his grin widens. "y-you know what i mean!! and I'm cold.."
"think i can make your heart melt?" oh he did. you sighed, does he really mean all of this? you never really gave him replies, not that you could even form words with how your brain turns into a puddle when he throws you the most cheesy ass pick up line ever. where does he even gets all of these?
"Is it chilly out, or is that just the chill you send down my spine every time I see you?" a scoff escaped you. "it's cold right now."
"well, thank god i brought some socks, you're giving me cold feet." he said rathed dramatically, his body sagging against yours.
"do you really mean all of this?" you asked out of the blue. is he just messing with you? is he really gonna burn you after all? maybe his flames would just combust your lonely heart to oblivion, then leave it to heave in the remaining smoke.
"of course." he replies almost immediately, his eyes seeking yours. sincerity swam in his dark orbs, a soft yet genuine smile on his lips. oh. maybe he was just trying to cradle you with his warmth, after all.
-
he takes a mental note to take this more seriously. thus, you didn't fail to notice how his lines were a bit more genuine, it still has a hint of playfulness—but everytime he looks into your eyes, it seems as though he's swallowing each emotion in them, fully drowning in you with those obvious lovesick orbs.
IV.
the night was cold, so was your heart. thatch had died, murdered by the hands of his own family. his own nakama. you sat on your bed, blank eyes staring to the window. it was pouring, as if the clouds were affected by the loss. the raindrops fell harder and harder, jut like the pounding in your chest as his death sinks in.
there were sudden knocks on your door. you didn't have to sit up, you knew who it was. "come in.." you croaked, voice breaking slightly.
the door opened and revealed a disheveled ace. he was quiet as he invited himself in, the familiar scent of your room filling his senses. "hey.." he greeted, yet it lacked the familiar warmth he always held. it was replaced by the bitter cold, gnawing at his insides.
"hey, you." despite his state, you felt warm. everytime the pirate comes into view, your heart is immediately filled with fervor. sparks surging through your veins.
ace wordlessly sat down beside you, head hung low and you know why. "I'm going to kill teach." he muttered, his resentment surfacing with each passing second.
"what?" you gaped, and you don't know whether to let him go or not. you weren't sure if the awful pit on your stomach was something worth noting. before you could speak further, his voice cuts into the air. sharp and determined.
"and you can't do anything to stop me." and for the first time ever, he made you cold. unpleasant shivers went down your spine and your heart dropped to the depths of doubt. and before you know it, protests escapes your lips while you shake him. it's unsettling, how you're holding onto him yet he's so cold.
"i don't care if it's dangerous, he killed thatch, he betrayed his own!" he raises his voice, but you can't find it in yourself to even flinch, still seeking that certain fire in his eyes. it's there, it's ignited, but not the kind of flame that you're looking for.
"i just... didn't want to leave without telling you goodbye." he mumbled, voice softening significantly.
"are you saying this will be the last time I'll see you?" you can't ignore it anymore, tears are stinging your eyes.
".... i—" he hesitated, breath hitching. "of course not, I'll come back for you."
for you.
his words rang in your ears, he sounds so genuine yet so full of doubt. and as your gaze on him lingers, all you could see is a lost boy, his judgement crumbling right before your eyes.
"come back alive, okay? I'll wait for you." you told him with such warmth and affection, your hand cupping his cheek.
at that moment, he looks like he'll break, your warmth seeping through his freckled cheek and straight through his heart and soul. it felt so surreal for him, he's made of fire, but it feels as though you were burning him.
"i don't know, it's like you're already killing me here, 'cause you took my breath away."
sigh.
V.
you're on fire.
not literally, but it may as well be with how you can feel the intense determination and fear in your bones. you stood near pops, the tense atmosphere wafting through the thick air in marineford.
ace is there, at the execution grounds—chained, bruised, bloodied, and regretful. you could see him clearly, yet he feels so far away.
and once the war started, you did your best to avoid the attacks sent to you, sprinting straight towards ace. you knew it was futile, the marines surrounding him far too strong compared to you. but you can't stop.
I'm coming for you, ace. the rapid thumping of your heart is all that you could hear, ignoring his desperate pleas of 'don't come here! it's not worth it!'
ace, ace, ace. you repeat his name in your head like a mantra. ace, ace, ACE. you creamed this time, voice breaking.
you legs stopped once you saw the dark hair of a young boy—screaming his lungs as he calls for his dear brogher, along with the intense surge of his haki. you weren't weakened by it, but you felt a sense of relief as he ran through the sea of marines ready to take his life.
instead of heading to ace, you sprinted to the boy—luffy, you assumed based on the countless stories from his brother. you helped fight off anyone in his way, putting all your trust in him.
you watch as he somehow freed ace. in awe as they fought alongside together, having perfect harmony.
you could only watch as he finally ran, straight to were you and the others were. and you felt so light seeing him, alive and well.
yet, you could only watch, as he was provoked by admiral akainu. you could only scream at him to stop, to just let it go. but of course you knew it was pointless. he's ace, he'll never let anyone dare to throw dirt on the name of his savior. he wouldn't let anyone insult the man who kindly called him as his son.
and thus, you could only watch as magma seeped through his chest. the ring in your ears eating up all your sanity, you couldn't even hear nor feel as the others dragged you away—unaware that you were running to him again.
you only watched as he whispered words to his brother, hugging him helplessly.
then everything became a blur.
VI.
the morning birds chirped, or was it the seagulls handing out the newspapers? nonetheless, the light from the window indicates that a new day is starting.
a new day, as you sat next to ace's bed. you never left his ever since you woke up. his organs were ruined, and you wonder how marco and the others had healed him.
but you didn't care about how. all you could ever care about is ace. he's alive. still, he's yet to wake up.
it's been a week, the familiar routine of sitting next to his bed was slowly embedding in your mind. you want nothing more than to see his eyes again, to see that bright smile that makes you think that the sun was nothing but an irrelevant orb up in the sky.
his chest was filled with bandages—another reminder of an ugly memory. you stared at him solemnly, fingers tracing his freckled cheeks.
then he stirred, and you flinched. your mind went blank. the gears in your head only turned once he gazed at you with those pretty eyes—effectively pulling you into the depths of your emotions.
"why are you crying?" were his first words, his voice was strained, his throat dry. only then did you realize everything was blurry.
"y-you—!" clutching his arm almost desperately, you found yourself crumbling in front of him. "you said you'd come back alive!"
"but i am alive." he said matter-of-factly.
"what if you died?!" honestly, you didn't know nor cared if you were making a point. all you did was sob his name over and over again, you arms coming up to wrap around his neck. crying as the man stroked your unkempt hair.
"...is this real?" he then asked, and the doubtful tone you once heard was at it again. you looked into his eyes, witnessing a broken man who looked as though he couldn't believe what has happened. "I'm actually alive?"
"of course you are! you're here, ace. you're fine." you said, partly to yourself, but mainly to him who looks like he'll break you with how he's holding you.
"you're alive. thank god you're alive, ace." and he cries. he cries and sobs and you don't know what else to do but to hold him.
"do i deserve to live? do i really deserve to survive?" and you felt your own tears falling. he sounds so broken, so lost, so doubtful.
you didn't question why he was asking that, rather, you cupped his cheeks and stared lovingly in his eyes.
"you do, ace." was all you have to say. was all he needed to hear. it won't be easy to remove those thoughts, no. but for now, it was enough.
"yeah?" he sniffled, a lopsided grin on his lips. you kissed his tears away, as he closed his eyes in bliss.
"yeah."
he grinned from ear to ear, and you returned it. and you both sat there, just giggling to each other.
"can i borrow your sunglasses? i can't stare at you too much 'cuz you're hotter than the sun." instead of laughing or blushing like you always do, your eyes softened.
"really? your eyes must be weak then. i can stare at you for hours." and before he could even so much as react, you continued.
"you know, you're like the sun. so bright, so warm. and every time i see you, i don't know whether i should bask in you or to hide because you burn me. god, you set my heart on fire, ace. and i don't care if i turn into ashes as long as i can be beside you all the time." you finished, staring at him like a lovesick fool.
he was out of words, his face exploding in a bright red and you wondered how much restraint he has right now to not burst into flames on the spot. he gaped at you as you stared at him like he hung the stars in the sky.
"i love you." he muttered. now you were the one rendered speechless. no words can express how he makes you feel. and you all but grinned, giddy and drunk off of the feeling of his love.
"i love you too." and before you two could lean in and share that sweet sweet kiss, the door opened and you saw the half of the crew falling down from their pile. looks like they've been eavesdropping.
and they didn't even had any shame as they cheered, chanting 'kiss, kiss, kiss!' loud screams of jovial voices filled the cabin once you two actually did.
familiar warmth seeped through your body and cradled your heart. and you had an epiphany at that moment: you belong here, right at this very moment, forever and more.
─────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ───────
ps. : NAHHH CAN YALL TELL I GOT LAZY AT THE END im sorry it took so long i procrastinated for like 2 days 🙏 thank you for reading!!
taglist : @captainportgasdace @malxoxo (there's so many of yall who liked my previous post, my lazy ass could never, i might tag yall later tho if i get my energy back <33)
68 notes · View notes
doudouneverte · 2 days
Text
2026
a/n: first fic from his own universe...
Tumblr media
*not my GIF*
Pairing: Glódís Viggósdóttir x Fem!reader
Summary: the day after Glódís' contract extension
Type: Fluff
Warning: use of google translate for icelandic words
word count: 1840
note: bold = swedish
------
It was a warm day—a very good day. Yesterday was even a better day for Bayern fans when Glódís' contract extension was announced. And right now, the team was arriving at the campus for training with a little surprise.
"Oh, look at that!" Georgia's voice got the attention of everyone. When the team looked at where the English referred, they saw a huge bouquet.
The bouquet was a combination of blue and red flowers arranged so the red flowers in the centre wrote '2026' and the blues one around made the whole thing look like the Icelandic flag. And the more cute thing was that the 'little' gift was on Glódís' cubby, making her blush intensely.
"Wow, that's a big one." Lea chuckled. "How did they even get it there? I would be scared to break it." There was a little silence in the room while the girls admired it until they heard the click of a snap shot.Everyone looked where the sound came from to see a very proud Islanlic captain. 
"You have to take a picture with it." Linda proposed, and everyone immediately agreed. The captain didn't wait a second until she took it and posed with the wave of her teammates' phones.
The red-headed woman analysed the bouquet until she noticed a little card with it.
"Well, if I'm guaranteed to get something like that for an extension, give me a pen right now." Jovan said, making the whole team laugh.
During the whole training, the captain didn't seem to be able to suppress her smile, which made all the team tease her, but she couldn't care less. It was like that until Magda came to ask her something about it. Pernille was watching them a little curious, but from her girlfriend's behaviour, she could say that Magda was shy to tell what she was saying to her captain.
It was the last day before their next match, so the Danish brusehd it off and decided to focus on her training, but she made a mental note to ask about that later. At the end of the training, the girls decided to spend some time together, which everyone agreed with except the Swedish defender, who informed them that she had something important to do.
It was in the middle of the afternoon, and you were in the shop, waiting for any potential customers while you were on your phone. On Instagram, more precisely. You were watching some random posts until someone sent you a direct message.
You smiled at your phone, getting enough time to reply with a quick 'you're welcome' until someone entered the shop.
(has sent you a picture)
Glódís: Thank you 💙❤
It was a very fascinated and a little confused Magda who was facing you, getting you immediately confused and fascinated as well.
"Hi, how can I help you?" You asked, making the defender more confused.
"You speak Swedish?" She asked.
"Yeah, I'm from Malmo, and honestly, it's not every day that I get the visit of a Swedish superstar."
"I'm not a superstar."
"You're the captain of the national team, so for me, you're a superstar." You asserted your point, making her finally accept it. "So, how can I help you?"
"Uh, yeah. I want to buy something for my girlfriend, and a teamma- a friend recommended this place to me, so I came to check if you had something that could… I don't know; that can please my girlfriend."
It took you a few seconds to process everything and think about it. "Okay, you're in the right place for that. Do you have any idea, or can we think about it together?"
"Actually, yeah, just a moment…" She pulled out her phone and opened Instagram. "Something like that. But of course not as big as it."
You giggled a little looking at the picture of your wife smiling widely with your gift in her hands.
"Yeah, I think I can do something like that; excuse me a moment." You quit the counter to wander in the shop, picking some flowers, and then came back. "We can make it look like the Danish flag, or we can try arranging them to look like a white heart on a red background."
"The heart one!" Magda replied immediately, making you chuckle. "Sorry," she mumbled, making you even more chuckled.
"Don't worry, it's nothing. I'm used to this type of reaction with my wife."
"Oh, you're married?"
"Yess. 4 years now."
"Wow."
"Yeah, wow. But I can't be more happy with her; she's always so sweet with me. I mean, she made me leave Sweden, so that's the least she can do."
While you were finishing your 'piece of art', as your wife likes to call all your creations, you and Magda used that time to know more about each other. And after that, you decided to give it to her for free with a promise to let her pay for her next purchase.
Two hours later, you were cleaning up after your last client when you were interrupted by someone entering the shop. You looked at the entry to see your big bouquet covering the Icelandic captain's face.
"Hi, ástin mín (my love)." She greeted you happily.
"Why don't you let it at home, baby?" You giggled when you saw her trying to give you a hug without crushing the flowers.
"I know I should, but after the training, the girls wanted to spend some time together, and as a captain, I couldn't refuse that. And after that, I came here." She said proudly.
You gave her a kiss and took the flowers from her hands, making her pout a little.
"Hey, it's mine," she complained, making you laugh.
"I know, but I'll just put them in the water so you don't have to carry them all the time," you reassured her. When you finally dispose of the flowers in a pretty vase (chosen by Glódís), you finally let the defender rest in your arms on a couch behind the counter.
It was a habit of her to come here after the training just to spend some time with you, even if you assured her that she would eventually see you after you closed the shop.
"How many hours have we left before you close?" She asked.
"Two hours," you replied, and your wife hummed in reply, letting you know that she would probably fall asleep during this time.
You both stayed like that for almost fifteen minutes until the front opened again. You were trying to get out of Glódís' arms before you saw two familiar figures looking at you from the other side of the counter.
"Oh, look at that; she's so cute." Karólína said.
"She looks like an orange cat." Emilie added making you and the younger Icelandic player laugh. "What, isn't she?"
"She definitely looks like a cat." You agreed with her after a quick look at your wife. "But what are you doing here?"
"We have to play against Bayern tomorrow, so here we are. We just finished the training, and we have a little free time, so we came to check on you." The Norwegian player explained. You nodded, but you heard a snap shot. You turned your head towards Karólína with a confused look.
"Sorry, it's so cute. I had to." She tried to defend herself, but you didn't have a lot of time to think about it because the older Icelandic player started to wake up next to you.
The first thing she immediately noticed when she woke up was the two players who joined you. She was a little confused, but decided to brush it off when you didn't seem as surprised as her.
The three players stayed there until you closed the shop, helping with the late customers and cleaning before closing. After you dropped them off at their hotel, you drove back to your home.
"Finally alone!" Glódís exclaimed while you closed the door.
"Well, technically, we were alone for a moment, but Mrs. decided to take a nap." You said with a smirk.
"Hey, I was tired."
"I know. I'm just messing with you." You kissed her gently and said, "I missed you."
"I missed you too."
You led her to the couch, where you made out until you had to use the bathroom. While you were gone, you received a text from Karo, which intrigued Glódís. The defender unlocked your phone.
It was not the first time that she did that; you both trusted each other, and you both knew that neither of you would cheat or do any harm to the other.
She saw what her national teammates sent you and let out a little chuckle at the message.
"When did she even take that picture?" she asked no one with a smile on her face.
(picture)
Karo: the little orange fur of Iceland😺🇮🇸
When you were back on the couch, Glódís gave you your phone with a little smile. You raised your eyebrow before turning on your phone to discover your new lock screen.
"To her defence, you really look like an orange cat when you sleep like that."
"I'm. not. a cat." She pointed every word with light slaps with a cushion.
"Too bad, I really love cats." You tried to defend your point. The captain stopped her action and seemed to think about it.
"Well, you love me more than any cat." She reminded you.
"Yeah, that's also true." You tackled her on the couch and started to tickle her. Her laughs were filling the room before you started to shush her with kisses. You stopped only a short time after she finally caught her breath.
"You know what? I think you should come with me and the team for our international game this time."
You took some time to think about it, because even if you really wanted to be there to support her, you had your own duties, and she was aware of that.
"I don't know, älskling."
"Please. The girls miss you, and don't worry, I'll do anything to not let you get bored of them or anything."
"Oh, don't worry, I love them, and I could never get bored of them, but I have the shop and…"
"You can close for a week." She was now making the puppy eyes. "And I promise I'll help you when we get back."
"Really help me, or you'll just fall asleep like usual?" you mocked, making her roll her eyes playfully.
"No, I'm serious this time." She took your hands in hers and put them under her chin, forcing you to focus on her. The captain stared at you like that, waiting for a response until you finally let her win this time.
"Okay," you sighed while Glódís jumped from her spot to hug you. "But don't forget to make up for that."
"I'll not, I promise." She concluded the deal with a passionate kiss. "I love you, Kærasta (darling)."
"And I love you too, Glo."
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