#holly shit that’s a lot of d names

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b.) - part three

previous part | series masterlist

soundtrack: don't blame me - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and bradley spend the night, but the road to heaven is full of obstacles; some are external, others are self-inflicted. warnings: language, public scrutiny (will be a recurring theme in this fic ha!), bradley is a stand-up guy all round, fluff, smut (d/s elements, praise kink, bit of a bratty side?, fingering, oral [f receiving], dirty talk, size kink, bradley is PACKING, protected sex) notes: i'm back! life has been crazy since i posted the previous chapter, but i just wanna say thank you so so much for your patience and your kind words about the fic so far! big shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse and @teacupsandtopgun for being absolutely GEMS in brainstorming ideas-- this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for y'all <3 happy reading!

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The Langham, Sterling Suite. Ask for Holly Golightly ;)

Bradley smiles at your text, and the cheeky “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” reference. He shoots up a quick reply as he makes his way out to the lobby, fighting hard not to be grinning like an idiot to any unassuming passersby, until—

Click-click-click-click! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

“Hey, it’s Bradley Bradshaw!”

“Oi, Bradley! Give us a smile, mate!”

“Bradley, did you get to meet Y/N inside?”

“Did the boss let you out on a school night, Bradley?”

”How are you feeling about the Sunderland game this weekend?”

It’s a meager distance from the steps of Annabel’s to the curb where the valet has brought out his car, but holy shit. It doesn’t usually get nearly as crazy as this. He’s partied here with Harry Styles, and nobody bat an eye when the guy stumbled out drunk with his left tit out. But maybe it’s because Harry lives in London sometimes, or maybe because he was on a break… unlike Miss Americana on her world tour right now. It makes him pause and rethink how careful he needs to be.

Bradley gets into his car and drives off, trying to tread between the fine line of quick and careful. He can’t help but look over the rearview mirror more often than normal. Fuck, is this how you feel like all the time? He’s no stranger to the spotlight, but rather than the occasional run-ins, nobody has ever been interested in where he went to dinner on a random Tuesday night.

The Langham is barely a mile away, but Bradley sees photographers parked across the hotel with their long-lens cameras and disgusting disposition, and he keeps on driving. Thinking. Restrategizing. Hoping that his vintage aubergine Ferrari isn’t causing suspicion for driving by the second and third time.

He finds a basement parking lot behind the building and pulls up, hoping it’s the right entrance to the hotel. The attendant looks starstruck as he nods and points the way, sending him off with an eager ‘Come on you Gunners!’. And just like that, he makes it into the lobby out of the pap’s sight.

Be cool, he reminds himself, you’re only as suspicious as you seem to be. He comes up to the reception desk, and the girl behind it greets him warmly.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Langham. How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Ms. Golightly at the Sterling Suite,” Bradley says smoothly. “Holly Golightly.”

“And who am I speaking with, sir?” The girl looks at him like he seems familiar, but can’t quite place him. 

“...Paul Varjak,” he states, unable to bite back the smile. Oh, the thrill of giving out a fake name with the very real possibility of getting called out on his shit. 

But she nods and grabs the telephone, dialing into your room. Blissfully ignorant of the pseudonym he just gave her. 

Good. 

Let this inside joke be the two of yours alone.

The elevator ride up is peaceful—too peaceful that he can hear his heart beating and his palms sweating. Even the carpet mutes his footsteps towards the double door. Before he even presses the bell, a bodyguard opens the door for him.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” he nods curtly. It’s one of the guys from the restaurant earlier. Middle-aged, stout and rather short, sporting a permanent scowl and a vibe that indicates he’s seen some shit.

“Hi. Sorry, I haven’t got your name…?”

“Guy,” he deadpans.

Bradley wonders if that’s his real name or he’s just saying it so Bradley would get off his case, but smiles anyway. “Nice to meet you, Guy.”

Guy hums gruffly and ushers him into the foyer, an identical hallway of the hotel, with a room on each side. “Through here,” he leads him towards another set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

Meanwhile, you are full-on freaking out in your living room. Should you get changed? You’ve taken off your heels, but getting everything off feels so premeditated… You don’t even know if he wants things to go that far. Maybe you can break your little rule and bring out the wine for liquid courage? Gosh, nothing feels right. And it’s been so long since you’ve last done this that you’ve actually gone rusty.

And before you get to decide—in the long, wasteful twenty minutes or so you’ve been pacing, you hear a knock on your door.

“Coming!”

You rush over to get the door and there he is, coming out victorious through the hurdles, smiling at you.

“Thanks, Guy. I’ll take it from here,” you dismiss your security a little too quickly, nodding over Bradley’s shoulder. You’re sure Guy is rolling his eyes all the way back to his room over your lovestruck teenager behavior.

But it hardly matters when this man before you is looking at you like the sun.

“Hey, you.” Bradley beams at you from his spot. As if afraid to invade your space somehow.

And so are you. This feels like that night in the garden all over again. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t some pocket of a park you stumbled into; this is your hotel room. 

Quiet. 

Private. 

Safe.

“Come on in.” You let him cross the threshold, closing the door behind him the warm foyer light cast golden upon his face. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’ve ditched your six-inch heels, or that there’s no one else, but Bradley looks even taller than you remember him. Broader. More… imposing.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. There’s cameras everywhere and I had to—”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him. It feels rude to ask if he got caught on camera, but at this point, you had to ask. “Did you… Did they…?” 

Bradley quickly shakes his head. “No, I took the basement entrance, out of sight. We’re good.”

”I’m, uh… sorry for the fuss.”

”Hey, it’s no trouble at all… Ms. Golightly,” he tilts his head, grinning at your chosen pseudonym.

”Yeah, it changes every time. My last stop in Tennessee, I was Clarice Starling,” you admit, making him laugh. “Although I’m glad you got the reference… Mr. Varjak.”

He simpers, very proud of himself. And with that, he takes a step closer to you. Towering over you. Crowding you with his smile, his scent, his body heat… and neither of you makes the first touch. You’re painfully aware of how his gaze keeps dropping to your lips. Bodies drawn towards each other but tied in place for some reason. It seems like despite all the flirting you did at the restaurant, everything goes out the window once you’re alone.

You’re just two strangers, caught in a thrilling game of push and pull. Too scared to tip over and just… fall.

“Can I kiss you…?” Bradley breathes out. He feels foolish for asking, but it’s the only way to make sure he’s not ruining the entire evening.

But you sigh in relief and nod your head yes, and it gives you the push you need to close the distance from him. You don’t know which one happened first; touching his lips with yours, grasping his arms for balance, or standing on your tiptoes on his shoes. He keeps you there, his strong hands securing your waist.

“You’re making me feel like a kid…” It makes you giggle into the kiss, and he can’t not possibly fall in love with the sound of that—with the feel of your lips pulled up right against his.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing…” Bradley runs his hands down your sides gently. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“All night? You mean you’ve been thinking about making out with me while I tell you my life story?” you gasp, feigning shock and offense.

He laughs again. “Maybe for a moment or two there, I’ll admit.”

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you give him a playful smack on his behind, and there’s a flash of… something in his eyes. A spark, or a darkening. You’re not sure what it is yet, but it sends butterflies into your stomach yet again.

Bradley tucks some loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I’m still a gentleman.”

“Really? I don’t believe that…” you sway his hips lightly, “I think you’re very… very bad,” you purr out, your lips barely touching.

He meets you halfway, and it feels like less of a shock this time. You gladly lose yourself in him, knowing you’ve crossed the line now. You finally notice how his mustache scratches your skin in a nice way, how he holds you flush against him, how he just melts into you in the kiss… enshrouding you in his warmth and lighting you on fire at the same time. 

Bradley pulls away, barely just. His forehead is still pressed against yours, your noses are bumping, and his breath melding with yours. He licks his lips and you swear you can almost taste it. “You’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman, kid…”

You can’t help but chuckle at the nickname. It’s not one you expect, but it sounds right somehow. “I didn’t invite you all the way here to be a gentleman.”

The twinkle in his eyes darken. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Is that right?” Bradley’s hands slide down your hips, finding the swell of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

The air catches in your throat, and you swallow lightly. “Mm-hm.”

Instead, you lead him into the bedroom. Bradley is right behind you, barely a step behind. His hands have found a home on your hips and he seems adamant to stay there for a moment. Insisting to hold onto you because he worries he’ll get ahead of himself before you’re ready. But gosh, you’ve been ready all night and you’re practically twisting your arms around trying to reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Come here, I got you,” he rasps, his heart skipping as he drags the zipper down your back. He’s not sure which one he loves more; the dip of your spine that he wants to trace with your tongue, or the way the dress falls to the floor and reveals what’s underneath that prim and proper pink dress.

A tiny scrap of lace held by a black strap on either side of your hips, framing the swell of your ass perfectly.

And he swears, for a split second, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck…” he breathes out.

You can’t turn around fast enough. It might be a good ‘fuck’, but what if it’s a bad one? “What’s wrong?”

Bradley just blinks at you, for no other reason than how your nipples are poking out the side of the skimpy triangle of your bra. And that your lipstick is smeared on the edges from kissing him.

But of course, your mind is already racing from the lack of response and you’re already thinking, oh no this was a bad idea I shouldn’t have worn this—

“Hey, hey…” he sees your face fall and your arms come up to cover your chest and he immediately steps in. Holding you close, hoping to give you comfort. “Is this all for me?”

Oh, shit. Maybe if you close your eyes tight enough, you would melt to the floor. “I know, it’s a little much—”

“No, that’s not what I asked…” Bradley tilts your chin up, making you look him in the eye. “I said… Did you put these on for me?”

Your breath comes up short, and you nod ever so slightly. You don’t even trust your own voice not to betray how much you want him to like it. How much you want him.

“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” He smiles into your lips, kissing you there. Spelling out how he feels with his hands on your ass, his mouth on yours. “Such a good girl…”

That flips a switch in your brain and he can see it. Your eyes go wide, your posture changes, and all of a sudden, you look so… small in his arms. So vulnerable, so beautiful. So perfect. 

Suddenly, he’s holding the world in his arms. The sexy little thing you call panties is a pesky little nuisance now, and he can’t wait to get it off of you. His broad shoulders are keeping your legs open, his nose nuzzling your pubic bone as he looks up at you.

Bradley lowers you down on the side of the bed, settling on his knees before you. Committing every inch to memory by touch, from your ankle to your knee, up the inside of your thighs. When he reaches the scrap of fabric at your core, he feels it slick. He smirks. “What do we have here?”

Your face heats up. How the fuck are you supposed to answer that? No words are coming to your head—not when he’s drawing patterns over your pussy, making the lace glisten all over. And when your panties are positively ruined, he draws his hand back and licks the offending fingers in earnest.

And all it takes is a taste to send him into a frenzy. 

“Fuck honey, need to taste you…” he murmurs between feverish kisses all over your legs. “Can I?”

You nod fervently, feeling like he’s got you under a spell.

“Use your words, kid.” He grins, playfully biting the inside of your thigh.

The sharp sensation makes you yelp, and you grip his hair in reflex. “Yes, want your mouth on me, please…”

“Good girl, asking so nicely…” he chuckles, satisfied with your response. Then, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. That dainty scrap of lace you call panties is a pesky nuisance now, and he couldn’t wait any longer to get it off of you. With your legs hiked up on his broad shoulders, he dives into you. 

A taste, as it turns out, is an understatement because what Bradley does is devour. 

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp sharply at the contact.

With one hand pinning your thigh open, he laps you up in earnest, figuring out the many ways he can make you squirm. Time ceases to exist because it feels like he makes you come in no time, but also he’s been down there forever. But he goes on and on and on until his name comes out in a desperate chant of lust and need. 

“Bradley Bradley Bradley…” she grinds shamelessly into his mustache now, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation on your part. “Please, I’m gonna…”

“I know, honey. I got you. It’s okay.” It’s an oddly wholesome thing to say in a moment like this, but maybe you’re a hopeless romantic at heart, because sweet nothings get you off.

Your orgasm strikes like a thunderbolt, and you find yourself arching into his mouth. The more you take, the more he gives—or is it the other way around?— It seems like he takes as much pleasure in it as you do. Maybe even more, as he holds onto you as you squirm away overstimulated.

“Bradley… wait.” You grab a handful of his hair, trembling breathlessly.

His mustache glistens when he comes up for air, and he finally (finally!) takes off his suit jacket as he stands up. He eases up on the throttle and lets you breathe for a second. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, watching you spread out like a feast for him. Legs open, bra askew, hair fanned out on the pillow… God, he’s so lucky.

When he returns on top of you, you’re eager to pull him by his belt buckle, but he brushes your hand away. You frown in protest. “But I wanna touch you—”

“It’s not your turn yet, honey,” he chides you teasingly.

“You just had your turn!”

He shrugs, nosing your cheek. “Well, it’s still my turn, so…” Bradley closes the gap again and kisses you openly.

The taste of your arousal on his tongue makes you dizzy, but it can’t distract you from the buzz of his fingers rubbing your devoured pussy, sending shivers down your spine. It’s entirely too much, and you keel over from the contact.

“Somebody’s a little sensitive, huh?” He grins, easing the throttle a little.

“Fuck you…”

“Well, if you say so.” He slides his middle finger in.

“Ohhh… Bradley…” you buck up your hips and moan. But in comes another finger, and you swear it feels like all of him. 

He’s wound differently this time, like a man on a mission. With his fingers crooking and stroking your silky walls, beckoning you to come closer, while you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to hold on. But his teeth yanks the edge of your bra to set your nipple free, and his sly tongue finally gets a taste… all resolve goes out the window.

“Come on, honey. I know you got another one in you…” he breathes out, undoing the front clasp of your bra so he can suck your tits with all his might, willing you to come.

And frankly, who are you to say no?

The burst of pleasure hits you from your core to your fingertips. If he wasn’t pinning you down on top of you, you would have probably floated away. But you’re firmly laid on the mattress and feeling everything. Your eyes blink back into focus as you come down from your high.

You pant, staring at him in disbelief. Nobody has ever put that much attention on you in bed before even taking off his clothes. “You got a baseball bat in there or something?”

“Something like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully. Jokingly, you assume.

You take his arm, kissing his wrist, “Can I touch you now?” sticking your tongue out to lick his digits clean of you. Putting on a show as you suck his fingers. “Please?”

He throws his head back and groans. “Fuck.” He can’t resist that doe-eyed look you’re putting on, nor can he resist you undoing his shirt buttons. He can play dominant all he wants, but he knows that the truth of the matter is, he’s all wrapped up around your little finger. “Okay, okay. You win.”

It’s a mess of unbuckling pants, kicking off shoes, and tossing clothes to the floor. Your hand reaches out to trace his gleaming skin, every ridge of his abdomen. You’ve seen the Calvin Klein campaigns and the Men’s Health covers— and gosh, he looks like a dream. But when that thing just springs up to his stomach when he pushes his boxers down…

You didn’t expect him to manifest straight out of your wet dream.

“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about your baseball bat,” you breathe out, head tilted as you stare at his thick cock. The vein that runs along the side, the way it curves slightly to the right, the length that makes you clench at the mere thought of it… Fuck, it’s pretty.

Bradley chuckles sheepishly. He knows how big it is, he’s heard all the jokes in the locker room, but hearing it from you hits different. “You scared?”

You should be, a little. But without flinching, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “Nah, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Gosh, he loves you. He’ll have to remember not to blurt that out too early. “Okay, big girl,” he chuckles, kissing you one last time before rolling off of the bed.

His sudden disappearance out of sight makes you frown. “Where are you—” you prop yourself up on your elbow, seeing him fish out a packet of condom from his trousers pocket, “Right. Safety first.”

Bradley nods, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it on. There’s something so hot about how a man looks just before he fucks someone. “Mm-hm. Gotta make sure we’re both covered.”

“Do I need goggles and a helmet, too?”

He pauses as he straddles your hips. “Maybe next round,” he cheekily quips back. The idea of you wearing nothing but a helmet and safety goggles weirdly makes his cock stir, too. But you’re already lying naked under him, and he doubts that much will deter his hard-on.

Bradley pushes himself into you a little, and your eyes water as you whimper out in a blur of pain and pleasure. And here you thought two of his fingers felt full…

He stops in his tracks, trying to gauge your reaction. He nearly lost his mind over how tightly you’re clenched around him, but he doesn’t want to presume. “Too much?” He asks softly, stroking your cheek. 

Your breaths run ragged as you look up at him, almost in awe. “You’re just… so big…”

He laughs breathlessly. He hates to brag, but it’s true. And as much as he’s enjoying the way you flutter under him, he has to ask, “Want me to pull out?” Please say no, please say no, I don’t think I can handle it…

“N-no…” you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him for dear life. “But I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

Bradley smiles at what has to be the most adorable look he’s ever seen from you. He kisses your forehead in reassurance. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay? I promise.”

Feeling this small and vulnerable so soon after meeting someone would usually set all kinds of alarms in your head. You never know how a guy would take it. But in this moment, nestled in the crook of his neck, among the mix of his perfume and aftershave and his natural musk… all you want to do is stay. “Okay,” you nod softly.

“Let’s try again then, hm?” He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear, “Open up, love.”

With a deep breath, you bite back a whimper as you take him deeper, still not quite all the way in. “Hurts…”

Bradley stops again, his concern fully taking over now. “You sure you want me to keep going…?”

“Yes!” You surprise yourself with how quick and desperate you answered him. Your eyes shut, trying to offset the warmth setting over your cheeks, as you make the dirty admission, “I… I like it when it hurts.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Bradley has to remind himself not to come on the spot, because holy shit. He wouldn’t go this hard on a woman so early in the game, but… his head is dizzy from how innocently you said it. He takes a breath to pull himself together. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

The air is heavy. The room is silent. You can hear the shift in the tension as you smirk, “Yessir.”

There you are, you little devil. Bradley simply grabs you by the hips and bottoms out inside you. Your face goes slack while your cunt tightens around his cock, and it blows his mind.

He starts out slow, torturously so. Stuffing himself inside your crevice and dragging himself out, willing you to feel every inch. Every ridge. Until your body loosens up and twists around in the throes of passion. Your mouth falls open, your little gasps and moans coming and going as he pleases.

The unhurried pace is nice for a few minutes, when you’re still adjusting to his size. But now that he’s snug inside you, you’re simply aching for more. Your hips arch up into him halfway, a little more urgent, disrupting the rhythm with a pleasant stutter.

He notices this and smiles. “So eager… what’s the rush, hm?”

You answer with a groan. He has a penchant for asking you questions you can’t answer, this man. “You feel so good, baby…” you murmur headily, hands desperately grasping on him—his arms, his shoulders, his back…

”You feel even better.” He nips at your pert nipple, relishing in your angelic little filthy cry. Fuck, he can feel the exact motion of your pussy tightening for him. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that…”

”Then don’t.”

His eyes flicker onto yours immediately. You’re gonna be the death of him, he swears…

You grab his hair by the fistful, keeping his gaze. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

”Oh fuck—” he doesn’t stand a chance. His body reacts faster than his brain could compute, and he holds your hips flush against his as he buries himself as deep as he can. Every twitch of his cock sends you reeling, and your pussy clenches and unwinds in your climax, following him down from his high to yours.

Free falling, hand in hand.

Bradley rolls off of you and you would complain, if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you into his chest. Thank fuck. You’re not quite ready to untangle from him yet. Not when your breaths still run a bit ragged, as if accidentally catching each other’s. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and it feels unlike your regular out-of-town hookup. No, this one’s different. But not a word is said between you on that for different reasons— each of you holding your cards close to your chest, as close as you’re holding each other.

[cosmictap]

Kinda just spitballing but I remember yet another book series i read when i was younger! (i read a lot when i was younger lmao)

It was the Magisterium by Holly Black and Cassandra Claire, as the name suggests - magic.

(i knew about this book series before i knew the magisterium was a thing in like. church’s and shit so hearing about that in my RE classes for the first time was very fun for me)

as i tend to do: I thought about the Ghosts in that series :D

See, the mc has a dad and his mum died + dad was (i think???) kind of in the army?

Idk how popular they are but i saw them in The Works a couple years back so they have to be at least somewhat known (and there’s more than like three fics about it)

[arson-appreciation-society-pres]

~Platonic Fitzphie Fanfic Pt.1~

(takes place in between Unlocked and Stellarlune)

family friendly :D (except for cussing)

It was still fairly early, and the sun had not yet risen but Fitz couldn’t sleep. His body could could barely move and he didn’t feel like opening his eyes but he was still very much awake. He didn’t know how long he had been awake. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes? Either way, he had been thinking. questions flooded his mind. Where was Alvar? For that matter, where was Keefe? Should he find them? No, he knew Alvar was dying. He had made sure of that. But… if he found Dex maybe they could be friends. That wasn’t right, Dex was still in the Lost Cities, Keefe was the one who ran away. He was thinking about the wrong handsome blond boy. “Handsome?” That wasn’t right either. Sure, he had been told Keefe was attractive (mostly by Biana, when she was younger.) but… Dex? Dex wasn’t handsome at all. Sure, Dex had beautiful periwinkle eyes that lit up in such a way that made Fitz’s heart flutter. And sure, he had a smile brighter than the sun with with amazing dimples to match and of course he had strawberry blond hair that waved subtly in the wind that made him look better than anyone Fitz had ever met but that didn’t make him handsome, did it? Yes, it did. He thought. He wouldn’t fall in love with someone who looked like the yeti toenail Keefe made him eat at a party, after all. In love? No, that also had to be his sleepy brain. But… it couldn’t have been he was wide awake. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. He wasn’t wrong he was in love. He loved Dexter Alvin Dizznee. He wanted to be with Dex in the same way he used to with Sophie. But, no matter how much he wanted to be with him, he had to face reality. Dex was a boy and so was Fitz. Fitz was the golden boy. He couldn’t risk falling off his throne. He had to stay on a straight path. He had to marry someone on his match list. He couldn’t be the only Vacker to be a bad match. He couldn’t sully his name.

Still, he knew that keeping everything inside was dangerous. Especially for him. He bottled his emotions until they burst out of him and he lashed out. He had lost so many friends because of it. Raida. Arix. Ezra. Keefe. Eboni. Hollis. He wouldn’t loose any more. He would tell a friend this time. He wished he could talk to a specialist but, his father wouldn’t allow him to meet with one.

So, he opened his eyes, picked up his imparter and said “hail Sophie Foster” moments later his best appeared on the screen. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Fitz? What are you doing up?” Sophie asked.

“I have to tell you something, Sophie.” He responded, not meeting her eyes.

Her brow furrowed anxiously and she asked “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

“we’re all okay, Sophie. None of us are injured or sick” he told her. “Then what could possibly be so bad?” She asked.

“I’m in love with your cousin, Sophie.” He said, sighing

the shocked look on her face said it all. “I know, unacceptable and stupid, right? Just promise me you won’t talk about this and I’ll leave you alone.” He said, his hand moving toward the off button on the imparter.

“Fitz! Wait!” Sophie pleaded

“why should I? You think I’m a freak, Sophie Foster!”

“I don’t think you’re a freak, it just… you used to hate Dex and now you say you’re in love with him. It’s just a lot to process!”

“I-I’m sorry.” he said, calming down. Fitz took a breath and then asked, tearfully “what do I do now?”

“um… I’m pretty sure this is the part where you ask him out?” Sophie said.

“I can’t do that, my father will be angry.” He said. Sophie yawned. “Let’s work this out in the morning. Get some sleep okay? You wouldn’t wanna get a boyfriend on no sleep.”

Fitz nodded and ended the call. Despite the cluster of emotions in his chest, he fell asleep quickly.

Tysm for making it this far!!!! Anyway imma tag @sapphic-el

[showfallsquigandiris]

Who all is at squig's facility? I know you and Squig and Steve. but who else is there for me to meet? :D -🐦

Well in general... there's a lot more people than the Mall, but that's just because its a bigger space （＾ｖ＾）

But as for people that are actually interesting... there's Rori, of course, she doesn't exactly have an exact job description right now, but I think she'll like you! She's a bit... crabby, but thats mostly to me and the Boss Lady ┐(￣ヘ￣)┌

Oh, and of course the Triplets! You know Squiggles, yeah? Well the Triplets are the 3 Squiggles Bots we have (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ they each have their unique aspects. I'm not often left alone with them because I'm a "bad influence" or something (￣ヘ￣)

Then there's my... assistant? Trainee? Student? Ugh (￣ ￣|||) her job description is also pretty non-existent but her name's Holly. She's a bit of a shit but I think that's mostly because she doesn't like me (--_--)

And that's all the people I can think of off all of my head (o^▽^o) although I'm sure you'll meet plenty of other people once you're here.

[archangelmacaron]

Lil update on various things

FIRST, my OC! Chapter 32 is the end of Part One of the yet-to-be-titled OC I've been sharing. There are two parts, a few things need to be reworked but it's otherwise done, so you won't have to wait too long, but I am going to do a small break between parts.

- I've had multiple people express positive regard for the um, I guess book one? so I think I'll be arranging that to share asap since the end of what I'm sharing now drastically spoils a lot of things.

-

Basically, a timeline:

-C's story. She meets Az, meets and marries Susu, falls out with Az and adopts D & B. (This is barely written, not even fully outlined.)

-D's story. D, one of C's adopted son/students, has recently made a gigantic blunder and lost his job, his titles, and his self respect. While drudging away answering the most basic summons, he meets a woman named Holly who may hold the answers to regaining everything. (Fully written, only needs a few parts reworked/edited.)

-Group story, direct sequel to D's story, featuring a mix of characters, still mainly D and Holly, but also B and his human Eileen, and Holly's relatives Aoife and Alec. Az also appears! (This is maybe 1/3 written, maybe 1/2 outlined. So not a lot.)

-Evelyn & Az's story, what you're (maybe?) reading now! This concludes the Big Bads that have been dealt with in previous stories. (this is fully written, which is why I was like eh I'll just share it first and see how people like it)

-After that is an idea for other characters in the same universe (actually, in Between rather than Above or Below), but it's so messy it's definitely not even a dream to share it as of yet.

Genuinely have no idea how on earth people pick titles, but I need better categories than "Macaron's OC ". I am so sorry. My Fanfic!

Accidents That Aren't has taken a bit of a backseat, but I'd like to finish that up before the end of January. I have it all plotted out, it's just a matter of actually writing it. I haven't felt inspired, then I tried to force it which makes me feel even less able to work on it, so I need to take a fully break for at minimum another week. I have another NTMF fanfic brewing in the back of my head, a horror story based on the premise 'what if Noel was the one taken to be imprisoned at the end of four instead?' I'd like to finish a replay first, though!

My Art! I still haven't been able to solidly design my fae/demon OCs in a way I can be like 'this is what they look like guys!' or even get to a point where I can sketch something and commission an artist to help me finish it off. But I'm trying ;-; I want to draw them very much!

I'm working on the prompts I requested so long ago to have done by the holidays, one is ready to be colored, the other is still in sketch form but that brings me to the last point,

Me, Personally! i'm going through it. I feel like I say that a lot, but health wise, stress wise, life event wise, I'm just really freaking unwell and my mental illness is really doing a number on me because of it all.

Anytime I get a positive interaction with any of my work it really, really helps, so if you have any friends you're like 'hey, they might be into the same weird shit Macaron's into' please don't hesitate to link them to my works. I don't really know how to 'market' my oC and honestly I just wanna show it to people and have them say hey, this made me happy! or I really related to this! more than anything else.

Otherwise, any comments are really truly appreciated, even if it's just an emoji or two.

Well, that's an update!

[kittyscrawls]

𝐵𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑀𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝐿𝒾𝒻𝑒

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OC

Word Count: 1.848

Warnings: None

Summary: After everything that went down in 86', Eddie Munson got himself a job at the local record store, dropped the D&D party and was having a hard time feeling like himself again. That was until Holly Brown, spending the summer back in Hawkins, let's her curiosity get the best of her and slowly but surely tries to coax Eddie out of his shell.

Previous chapter || Next chapter

Chapter One

Holly opened the doors of the flower shop, waiting for a moment to let the sunlight warm her skin at least a little bit. Her parents had asked her to cover some shifts while she was on her summer break, and she didn't really mind; it was something to do instead of spending her days bored out of her mind and sort of an easy way to make a few bucks.

From there she could see the Family Video – where she would go and kill time with Robin and Steve whenever she could – and a few other smaller shops that had resisted the Starcourt Mall meteoric rising and falling. Holly shivered thinking about all the lives that had been lost in the fire and kept trying to wrap her head around all the messed–up shit that kept happening in Hawkins.

When she had left the city for college, Holly did it with a sigh of relief; Hawkins seemed almost cursed lately, noy a year going by without a mysterious death or a tragic event. She never had the guts to say it out loud for fear of being deemed a loon, but she just knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

Shaking her head as if that would be enough to make those thoughts go away, Holly made her way back to the flower shop and plopped herself behind the counter. It was a slow day and she managed to handle the customers until her lunch break, at which point she decided to close the store for a bit and check on Robin; they had a few classes together and Holly considered her one of the few people she actually liked in Hawkins. Steve, on the other hand… Holly had been best friends with Steve when they were kids, as their parents were business partners, and they’d end up spending a lot of time together but had drifted apart by high school when the “king Steve” phase was in full effect. After Steve mellowed out and made friends with the younger kids and Robin, Holly made the conscious choice of rebuilding their friendship; she was extremely happy she had chosen to do so, as that gave her the chance of meeting Dustin, Mike, Max and Lucas who, despite being a few years younger, were super sweet and Holly ended up adopting them as their younger siblings.

Taking a bite of her sandwich, Holly made her way to the Family Video and cracked a smile upon hearing the bell indicating her entrance. On the counter, she could see Robin, Steve and one of his kids… and Eddie Munson.

Holly definitely didn't know what to think of Eddie. After being accused of three brutal murders and having his name cleared out in a way Holly wasn't sure she fully understood (and finally being able to graduate), the man had become nearly a hermit; she knew he had a job at the local record store because she would sometimes see him passing by, but she didn't really see him anywhere in town. Even his demeanor had changed a bit, not as loud or theatrical as once it was. Eddie seemed to be merely a shadow of who he was, what was completely understandable. Holly was sure she would have changed a lot had she been gone through so much. Despite all of that, the boys all really loved him and Dustin, in special, idolized the metalhead.

Approaching the counter, Holly smiled at the little group gathered and silently offered Robin her sandwich – the girl was so immersed in her conversation she barely took notice. "I think you should leave Eddie alone, Dustin. If he's not in the mood to play D&D, leave him be", admonished Robin.

"But it's been months!" whined the curly haired boy while Holly looked at the small group trying to understand what was going on. She looked at Steve, silently asking for help.

“You see, Eddie runs a little dungeons & dragons thingy, but he’s not been in the mood to do it for a while now. And Dustin here keeps whining like a little baby because of it” Steve answered, snatching the snack out of Holly’s hand and taking a bite. Holly had some vague memory of reading or listening some bad stuff about D&D, but simply attributed it to parents being scared of what they didn’t know. After hearing the younger kids talking about it, it seemed nothing more than just a fantasy game.

“It’s not a thingy, Steve” Dusting replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s a party. And I’m not whining.”

“I don’t know, sounded pretty whiny to me” Holly interjected herself in the conversation, catching Eddie’s attention for the first time; so far, he had been staring at his shoes. The boy’s hair was longer than what Holly remembered, his face looked a bit more sulked, and his eyes lacked the sparkle they always had – even his clothes seemed to be hanging weirdly from his frame, as if he had lost weight. “Dustin, I’ve explained a thousand times” Eddie said with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t feel like going out much and I can’t fit you all in my trailer, nor do I have the stamina to sit down and think of a campaign.”

Dustin’s lips contorted into a pout and Holly could see him trying his best puppy dog eyes, but Eddie kept fidgeting with his rings and wouldn’t look at him directly. The whole vibe in the group felt awkwardly off and Holly kind of started regretting walking into the place and she now felt it would be even weirder to simply walk off. She could feel they were holding back on talking about something but didn’t want to stick her nose into it… at least not for now.

Eddie mumbled something and left the store, dragging his feet, leaving Dustin to argue with Robin and Steve, and a slightly curious Holly. Snatching what was left of her lunch out of Steve’s hands, Holly said her goodbyes and made her way back to the flower shop.

Holly spent the rest of her shift biting on her nails, trying to come up with a good enough reason to try and strike a conversation with Eddie, but giving that she was doing it out of pure curiosity she wasn’t being able to really conjure something too creative, so…

Before she could stop herself, Holly was already pushing open the doors of the record shop, looking oddly out of place there in her airy summer dress and sandals. Eddie turned around from behind the counter, making his soft curls bounce a little bit in a way that made Holly’s chest feel warm in a way she wasn’t really expecting.

Holly smiled at Eddie, who nervously looked around and scratched his neck. “Erm… Can I help you? Are you looking for anything in specific?” Eddie asked, almost unsure of himself. “Hi! So… I was looking for the new Europe record? The Final Countdown?” The ghost of a smile appeared in Eddie’s face. “Hm, didn’t take you for an Europe kind of girl, miss Brown”.

“Yeah, well… I must admit that I’m usually more into pop music, but Carrie is currently my favorite song” Holly shrugged, “so I thought it might be worth checking some more of their music”. Eddie walked out from behind the counted and stumbled a bit around the store until he could find the exact tape Holly was looking for and brought it back, lightly tapping his ringed fingers on the cover. “Here you go, The Final Countdown… If you end up liking it, I could recommend you some more music like it”.

Holly grabbed the tape, but Eddie didn’t let it go, and they stood in an embarrassed silence for a couple of seconds until a faded shade of pink tinted Eddie’s cheeks and a shy smiled crept up to Holly’s lips. The girl took the tape out of his hands and brought it to her chest, “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. How much for it?”

Eddie made his way back to the cash register and Holly placed a few bills on the counter. He counted the money, gave her the change and the girl felt herself biting her bottom lip, wanting to say something but not knowing the right words.

“So, I really don’t want to overstep as we don’t really know each other, but I wanted to talk about Dustin…” Holly started, taking a deep breath. “Steve told me he’s been bothering you about something related to D&D. He doesn’t mean to be annoying or anything, he just really likes you and I think he kinda misses you, you know?” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, trying to find the right words. “I won’t say that I understand why you haven’t been in the mood, because… Well, I don’t understand. But Dustin… he’s just an overly excited kid and he idolizes you”.

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheeks while fidgeting with his rings and sighed deeply. “Yeah, I know… Trust me, I know. I love the little guy too, he’s like my baby brother or something. I just really don’t have the energy to do anything, y’know?”.

“I know Dustin can be… a lot to handle most often than not” Holly said with a little laugh, “but he doesn’t mean any harm, if anything he’s trying the opposite”.

Eddie let out an airy laugh while running his fingers through his hair. “I will try calling him more often or something. And… thank you for not trying to pretend you know how I’m feeling like”. He said with a sad smile. “People keep saying it and I know they mean well, but truth is they don’t. And that’s fine, I don’t really expect them to. But people thinking they can empathize with it makes me a bit angry, and I think I already have a lot of that to deal with” Eddie looked to Holly almost regretfully, as if he didn’t really mean to say that much but he couldn’t really help it — Holly was one of the few people who bothered to treat him with kindness back in high school and had an warmth to her that just made him feel very relaxed and at ease in a way he hadn’t felt in months; hell, maybe years. It was the same feeling Eddie associated with the days he’d be sick so he would miss school and his mom would wrap him up in a blanket and bring him a cup of hot cocoa with mini marshmallows.

Holly smiled and twisted a strand of her hair between her fingers, not really sure on what to say. “Well, think I’ll just go know… but feel free to come up to the flower shop sometimes. Just to hang out somewhere Dustin won’t follow you, he’s allergic to pollen”. Waving her new tape, Holly left the record store and Eddie felt like the whole place looked a little bit darker after it.

[nightingaleflow]

idk how the numbers got messed up hahaha

Nezumi

Who is your best friend?  Tell us about them!

Holly

What is your favorite childhood memory?

What is your favorite thing to do in your free time?

Evie

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

Who do you look up to?

Mariana

What is your favorite type of media (TV, movie, books, etc)?  Name some specific favorites (which shows, movies, books, etc do you like)!

Aki

What’s the best way to cheer you up?

What makes you sad?

Freebie!  "Will you ever try cooking with Rukia again?"

Yeah, the numbering system is really weird on Tumblr. But oh well, on to the questions! <3

~

~Nezumi Chisaki~

Who is your best friend? Tell us about them!

"My best friend…honestly, it's Rock. Don't get me wrong, I like Sakura and Choji. They're very nice! Don't get the wrong idea!

But Rock…he never tries to push me beyond my comfort level. He always checks in with me to make sure I'm ok. I never have to worry when I'm with him, even if we're doing something scary, because I know I can trust him to have my back.

Yes, he's my…b-boyfriend. But he's my best friend too."

~Holly Reed~

What is your favorite childhood memory?

"Coming home from the hospital after getting attacked by the alligator. My family threw me a party for surviving, and I not only got to try my favorite food - fried alligator - for the first time, but my uncle gave me a gator skull as a present.

Gus the Christmas Gator still sits in my room, guarding the door in his little Santa hat."

What is your favorite thing to do in your free time?

"Free time…that sounds nice.

Ok, but seriously, I'm not really sure I can call the time I'm not drawing or communicating with clients 'free time'. I'm the DM for my D&D group, so I spend about four to six hours every Wednesday running our games. But I also have to plan things out ahead of time - board layouts, enemies, potential storylines, and so on.

I do like playing regular board games as well, if Mariana, Evie, and I all happen to have the night off. It doesn't really matter what kind, but I prefer games with a defector such as The Resistance and Dead of Winter. It adds an element of surprise and strategy even if I've played them a million times before.

That's how Evie talked me into trying Among Us, by the way. I normally don't play video games, but Among Us was a lot of fun, even if she did yell at me for framing her for the murder in Electrical."

~Evie Moss~

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do?

"Learning to walk again. Have you ever had to relearn how to do something you had been doing for years? Because lemme tell you, that shit was hard. It was like I'd been playing through the tutorial for a Pokemon game only to realize I was actually playing Cuphead."

0/10, would not recommend."

Who do you look up to?

"God…so many people.

Brianna Scurry was my first idol back when I played soccer. She was the first black woman and first woman goalkeeper to be elected to the National Soccer Hall of Fame. I still have her poster on my bedroom wall.

I also have a bunch of esports idols. Remilia. Geguri. Maddiesuun. Obviously, women are just as good as men at gaming, but esports is still a massive dickfest, so any time one of us "makes" it, it's a serious moment of admiration because we all know how hard we had to work and what challenges we had to overcome to get where we are.

There's also my parents. They never failed to support me or encourage me no matter what I put them through. They might not always understand me, but they always try, and I couldn't ask for anything more.

Then there's Rock Lee and Might Guy from Naruto. Some might say it's dumb to idolize fictional characters, but those people should go fuck themselves. I was a fan of them anyway back when I was an athlete because they always encouraged me to work hard and do my best. But after I lost my leg, watching them deal with their struggles helped me deal with my own.

And of course, Mariana and Holly. God knows I wouldn't even be here without them. But even without that, they've never failed to be there for me or help me. I couldn't ask for better friends, or sisters really."

~Mariana Rosales~

What is your favorite type of media (TV, movie, books, etc)? Name some specific favorites (which shows, movies, books, etc do you like)!

"Anime. I'm not ashamed to say I was always a weeb. I started watching Sailor Moon when I was really little, and I never saw a reason to grow out of it.

Obviously, I still love Sailor Moon - Sailor Pluto is my queen. Naruto is obviously fantastic - my signature cosplay is Sakura Haruno, and it's a show that really helped myself and mis hermanas deal with some stuff. Soul Eater was great, Konosuba was great, Pokemon, Sword Art Online…dios, I could go on.

Right now, I'm watching through Boruto with Evie and Holly. I'm not entirely sure what to think about it yet, but I hate that Sakura ended up marrying Sasuke. She deserves so much better."

~Aki Kamiya~

What’s the best way to cheer you up?

"Be Gaara. If you aren't Gaara, food is always appreciated."

What makes you sad?

"The people I love being hurt, especially if I was in a position to protect them and failed."

Freebie! - Will you ever try cooking with Rukia again?

"Certainly, as long as she's willing. I've had more than my share of kitchen disasters over the years. I have no reason to hold that against her. I just can't guarantee the results will be any better if I end up being the one cooking."

~

Thanks for the asks, Jmor! <3

OC Interview Questions

[vinsmokc-sanji]

𝐵𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑀𝑒 𝐵𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝐿𝒾𝒻𝑒

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OC

Word Count: 1.848

Warnings: None

Summary: After everything that went down in 86', Eddie Munson got himself a job at the local record store, dropped the D&D party and was having a hard time feeling like himself again. That was until Holly Brown, spending the summer back in Hawkins, let's her curiosity get the best of her and slowly but surely tries to coax Eddie out of his shell.

Previous chapter || Next chapter

Chapter One

Holly opened the doors of the flower shop, waiting for a moment to let the sunlight warm her skin at least a little bit. Her parents had asked her to cover some shifts while she was on her summer break, and she didn't really mind; it was something to do instead of spending her days bored out of her mind and sort of an easy way to make a few bucks.

From there she could see the Family Video – where she would go and kill time with Robin and Steve whenever she could – and a few other smaller shops that had resisted the Starcourt Mall meteoric rising and falling. Holly shivered thinking about all the lives that had been lost in the fire and kept trying to wrap her head around all the messed–up shit that kept happening in Hawkins.

When she had left the city for college, Holly did it with a sigh of relief; Hawkins seemed almost cursed lately, noy a year going by without a mysterious death or a tragic event. She never had the guts to say it out loud for fear of being deemed a loon, but she just knew she wasn't the only one who felt that way.

Shaking her head as if that would be enough to make those thoughts go away, Holly made her way back to the flower shop and plopped herself behind the counter. It was a slow day and she managed to handle the customers until her lunch break, at which point she decided to close the store for a bit and check on Robin; they had a few classes together and Holly considered her one of the few people she actually liked in Hawkins. Steve, on the other hand… Holly had been best friends with Steve when they were kids, as their parents were business partners, and they’d end up spending a lot of time together but had drifted apart by high school when the “king Steve” phase was in full effect. After Steve mellowed out and made friends with the younger kids and Robin, Holly made the conscious choice of rebuilding their friendship; she was extremely happy she had chosen to do so, as that gave her the chance of meeting Dustin, Mike, Max and Lucas who, despite being a few years younger, were super sweet and Holly ended up adopting them as their younger siblings.

Taking a bite of her sandwich, Holly made her way to the Family Video and cracked a smile upon hearing the bell indicating her entrance. On the counter, she could see Robin, Steve and one of his kids… and Eddie Munson.

Holly definitely didn't know what to think of Eddie. After being accused of three brutal murders and having his name cleared out in a way Holly wasn't sure she fully understood (and finally being able to graduate), the man had become nearly a hermit; she knew he had a job at the local record store because she would sometimes see him passing by, but she didn't really see him anywhere in town. Even his demeanor had changed a bit, not as loud or theatrical as once it was. Eddie seemed to be merely a shadow of who he was, what was completely understandable. Holly was sure she would have changed a lot had she been gone through so much. Despite all of that, the boys all really loved him and Dustin, in special, idolized the metalhead.

Approaching the counter, Holly smiled at the little group gathered and silently offered Robin her sandwich – the girl was so immersed in her conversation she barely took notice. "I think you should leave Eddie alone, Dustin. If he's not in the mood to play D&D, leave him be", admonished Robin.

"But it's been months!" whined the curly haired boy while Holly looked at the small group trying to understand what was going on. She looked at Steve, silently asking for help.

“You see, Eddie runs a little dungeons & dragons thingy, but he’s not been in the mood to do it for a while now. And Dustin here keeps whining like a little baby because of it” Steve answered, snatching the snack out of Holly’s hand and taking a bite. Holly had some vague memory of reading or listening some bad stuff about D&D, but simply attributed it to parents being scared of what they didn’t know. After hearing the younger kids talking about it, it seemed nothing more than just a fantasy game.

“It’s not a thingy, Steve” Dusting replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s a party. And I’m not whining.”

“I don’t know, sounded pretty whiny to me” Holly interjected herself in the conversation, catching Eddie’s attention for the first time; so far, he had been staring at his shoes. The boy’s hair was longer than what Holly remembered, his face looked a bit more sulked, and his eyes lacked the sparkle they always had – even his clothes seemed to be hanging weirdly from his frame, as if he had lost weight. “Dustin, I’ve explained a thousand times” Eddie said with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t feel like going out much and I can’t fit you all in my trailer, nor do I have the stamina to sit down and think of a campaign.”

Dustin’s lips contorted into a pout and Holly could see him trying his best puppy dog eyes, but Eddie kept fidgeting with his rings and wouldn’t look at him directly. The whole vibe in the group felt awkwardly off and Holly kind of started regretting walking into the place and she now felt it would be even weirder to simply walk off. She could feel they were holding back on talking about something but didn’t want to stick her nose into it… at least not for now.

Eddie mumbled something and left the store, dragging his feet, leaving Dustin to argue with Robin and Steve, and a slightly curious Holly. Snatching what was left of her lunch out of Steve’s hands, Holly said her goodbyes and made her way back to the flower shop.

Holly spent the rest of her shift biting on her nails, trying to come up with a good enough reason to try and strike a conversation with Eddie, but giving that she was doing it out of pure curiosity she wasn’t being able to really conjure something too creative, so…

Before she could stop herself, Holly was already pushing open the doors of the record shop, looking oddly out of place there in her airy summer dress and sandals. Eddie turned around from behind the counter, making his soft curls bounce a little bit in a way that made Holly’s chest feel warm in a way she wasn’t really expecting.

Holly smiled at Eddie, who nervously looked around and scratched his neck. “Erm… Can I help you? Are you looking for anything in specific?” Eddie asked, almost unsure of himself. “Hi! So… I was looking for the new Europe record? The Final Countdown?” The ghost of a smile appeared in Eddie’s face. “Hm, didn’t take you for an Europe kind of girl, miss Brown”.

“Yeah, well… I must admit that I’m usually more into pop music, but Carrie is currently my favorite song” Holly shrugged, “so I thought it might be worth checking some more of their music”. Eddie walked out from behind the counted and stumbled a bit around the store until he could find the exact tape Holly was looking for and brought it back, lightly tapping his ringed fingers on the cover. “Here you go, The Final Countdown… If you end up liking it, I could recommend you some more music like it”.

Holly grabbed the tape, but Eddie didn’t let it go, and they stood in an embarrassed silence for a couple of seconds until a faded shade of pink tinted Eddie’s cheeks and a shy smiled crept up to Holly’s lips. The girl took the tape out of his hands and brought it to her chest, “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. How much for it?”

Eddie made his way back to the cash register and Holly placed a few bills on the counter. He counted the money, gave her the change and the girl felt herself biting her bottom lip, wanting to say something but not knowing the right words.

“So, I really don’t want to overstep as we don’t really know each other, but I wanted to talk about Dustin…” Holly started, taking a deep breath. “Steve told me he’s been bothering you about something related to D&D. He doesn’t mean to be annoying or anything, he just really likes you and I think he kinda misses you, you know?” she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, trying to find the right words. “I won’t say that I understand why you haven’t been in the mood, because… Well, I don’t understand. But Dustin… he’s just an overly excited kid and he idolizes you”.

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheeks while fidgeting with his rings and sighed deeply. “Yeah, I know… Trust me, I know. I love the little guy too, he’s like my baby brother or something. I just really don’t have the energy to do anything, y’know?”.

“I know Dustin can be… a lot to handle most often than not” Holly said with a little laugh, “but he doesn’t mean any harm, if anything he’s trying the opposite”.

Eddie let out an airy laugh while running his fingers through his hair. “I will try calling him more often or something. And… thank you for not trying to pretend you know how I’m feeling like”. He said with a sad smile. “People keep saying it and I know they mean well, but truth is they don’t. And that’s fine, I don’t really expect them to. But people thinking they can empathize with it makes me a bit angry, and I think I already have a lot of that to deal with” Eddie looked to Holly almost regretfully, as if he didn’t really mean to say that much but he couldn’t really help it — Holly was one of the few people who bothered to treat him with kindness back in high school and had an warmth to her that just made him feel very relaxed and at ease in a way he hadn’t felt in months; hell, maybe years. It was the same feeling Eddie associated with the days he’d be sick so he would miss school and his mom would wrap him up in a blanket and bring him a cup of hot cocoa with mini marshmallows.

Holly smiled and twisted a strand of her hair between her fingers, not really sure on what to say. “Well, think I’ll just go know… but feel free to come up to the flower shop sometimes. Just to hang out somewhere Dustin won’t follow you, he’s allergic to pollen”. Waving her new tape, Holly left the record store and Eddie felt like the whole place looked a little bit darker after it.

[yandereoverlord]

WATCHING NOSTALGIC MOVIES WITH THEM! MULTI FANDOM!!

Includes: Darry, Dally, Dabi, Kageyama , Sukuna, Gojo, Tengen +wives, and finally tanjirou mostly female reader (sorry)

THIS IS AFTER YOU GET STOCKHOLM SYNDROME!! SO YES THIS INVOLVES KIDNAPPING

Ok as a sorry for not updating (and all around not being able to come up with any creative ideas for a part 2 of the Zenitsu and not wanting to continue with the light yagami one I’ve tried,) I’m creating this fluffy but still Yandere piece for your entertainment. Please enjoy, there is literally zero Yandere dally content so I’m creating my own.this might have light lime(honestly the most I will ever be Comfortable writing) but other than that implied kidnapping.FOR THE THE LOVE OF GOD I MOST OF THEM DON’T HAVE THESE MOVIES BUT THE NOSTALGIA IS THERE FOR ME!!!!I now nobody actually reads this so without further ado enjoy.

Darrel Curtis (Dally): The chronicles of Narnia- the lion the witch and the wardrobe

🍰he liked this one because it reminds him of family.

🍰In this particular scenario let’s say Ponyboy and Soda where also Yanderes for ya but more platonic. The definitely are watching this with you.

🍰so yeah this is actually just a cut couple thing and completely tame. Well unless you count the whole kidnapping thing. But to you (since Stockholm Syndrome kicked in like a bitch) the weirdest this is A) how Soda eats his eggs with grape jelly and B) how the Actual fuck these boys eat that much chocolate cake. Like you got a big appetite, but damn these guys could feed all of Tulsa with the amount of food the hoes eating.

🍰Now you’ve grown used to the smell of cigarette smoke and dirty laundry (Darry does his best but it’s still hard considering he has you, Soda and Pony + all of the gang to look after) it’s actually quite pleasant to just sit down, watch a great movie, and snuggle into Darry.

Dallas Winston(dally): Shark boy and Lava girl

🚬Ok to be fair he didn’t actually watch it with you. It was more of a he comes home to you watch the movie while he’s going,” Wtf is this?” 🚬while he thought the movie was absolutely stupid he still “watched” it with you. Aka him trying to get you to make out with him while your completely absorbed in the movie

🚬eventually he just gives up and falls asleep on you. At least he would have if you hadn’t started trying to breakdance like shark boy during the dream song.

🚬Never again is he ever letting you watch something again. Not after you got that fucking song stuck in his head

🚬He may love you Doll but he will literally slap the absolute shit outta you I’d you try to watch it again. You can fight me on this cause we both know man has zero respect for women.

“Doll, c’mon pay attention to me, I’m better looking than him anyway.”

“Wait this is the best part! And while I love you, nobody’s hotter than Mr Electic~”

“why do I love you again?”

Touya Todoroki (Dabi): Shrek

❤️‍🔥at first he thought you where making fun of him.

❤️‍🔥bonus points if you look like Fiona (like me)

❤️‍🔥Once again another bum who just wanted to have sex with you once you got home. But nope, you where watching the greatest (yet least romantic) movie of all time. ❤️‍🔥Now this could go multiple different ways based on which shrek movie you watch

❤️‍🔥If it’s A) puss in boots, forget it he is turning that shit off immediately. He didn’t kidnap you just to watch some garbage. If he wanted to watch trash go up in flames he’d watch clips on Endeavor. I’m sorry but if he’s going to watch a movie he is going to watch a good one.

❤️‍🔥The same result will occurs if it’s B) Shrek forever after. While it’s slightly better it’s still not nearly as perfect as the first 3

❤️‍🔥now Shrek 3 is a different story. While it is a stupid movie, it is literally his favorite one. Except for the end scene. That he thinks is just stupid. And it is. The amount of crude jokes in that movie is unreal. But never the less he still respects it and adores the girl power scene. Heads up toga is totally watching that part with you.

❤️‍🔥Ok let’s move on to answer 4) Shrek 2 he really doesn’t give a fuck. He will watch it with you but get extremely bored and try be a ass about it and get you to

Tobio Kageyama: Rio

🥛I don’t care if you disagree this is the movie you two watch. A awkward blueberry bird and a beautiful queen. Umm yes. Again, Bonus points if you look like Linda.

🥛At first he was comprehensive about watching things with you but after watching it? Cheese and sprinkles he was hooked.

🥛I’m not going to lie there are moments when your not even watching the movie and you will start singing the songs. You may be asking which ones? Well in my opinion: beautiful creatures, What is love, and hot wings are his top songs for the movies. (Not being mean, they my faves too)

🥛I feel like originally he thought the movie was stupid until the middle of the hot wings song where he officially was in love with that masterpiece .

🥛he really relates to blue.

🥛in the end where blue finally flies was the moment he cried. No disagreements allowed.

🥛but in all, while he doesn’t shut up about misakes in the movie, this is definitely his type of nostalgia.

Sukuna Ryomen: Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses 🫀his face the entire time was: 눈_눈 or (ಠ_ಠ)

🫀to be honest he hated it and only wanted to watch it because you went on a hunger strike for him to watch a movie with you. And he can’t have his beloved queen of curses dying on him, can he?

🫀His faverote characters where:

🫀1. Felix because that bitch funny af

🫀2. Brutas because again he’s the best antagonist a Barbie movie has ever had, and that’s saying something.

🫀his most embarrassing moment is when he was fighting and he accidentally referenced that movie. Just picture it.

“DON’T YOU MESS WITH ME CURSE! YOU MAY BE STONG BUT IM A FEROCIOUS WARRIOR WHO WILL NEVER YIELD TO SOMEONE SO EVIL!”

“yeah right, your about as ferocious as a FLEA!”

🫀you never let him live that down. So yeah no more movie nights for you

🫀all things considered he would actually watch it again with you. If, you bribed him well enough. Aka helping him out if you catch my drift. But yeah he doesn’t mind it that much, you could be watching worse.

Gojo Satoru: Barbie princess and the pop star

💙I have no words

🤍none at all except 5 things: He actually fucking loved this movie hell he was the one who suggested it.

💙he wants and expects you to sing along with him (him as Kiera and you as tori his little

🤍his faverote character is by far tori and her magic hair brush (it’s because she reminds him of you, his perfect little prince/princess

💙He totally mocks auntie A along with tori in the beginning of the movie

🤍he reallyyyyyyy wants to watch Barbie rock and royals next. And after that Barbie and the twelve dancing princesses (his favorite is lacy you can fight me on that shit)

💙Authors note: sorry there’s not much for this I literally had zero ideas for this but I really wanted to write him with this movie

Tengen Uzui (and wives): Emperors New Groove

✨ok he was the one to put this one on. He finds Kusco so flamboyant and hilarious it’s hard to think he wouldn’t.

✨And having it just be him and his 4 wives/ partners it’s easy to forget he kidnapped you. It’s actually very nice. Just laughing at how funny it is and just chilling

✨those tree limbs he calls arms are so comfy.

✨Although one may think it would me hard to cuddle all those people all together it’s actually fairly simple. Tengen is in the middle, his left hand (this is pre gyutaro )running his fingers through Makio’s hair, who’s head is currently in his lap, legs on Hinatsuru who is currently leaning her head on Tengen’s massive shoulder. On his left your cuddled up to his side, Suma snuggled into you ass with all her strength. And despite what she may think it’s a lot of strength.

Faverote characters:

✨Hina- She can’t help it. She thinks kronk is absolutely hilarious (rightfully so)

✨Suma- surprisingly she really likes Yzma. Nobody really knows why but she says that it’s because she’s funny and Suma feels bad for her

✨Makio- she really likes chicka because how even though she’s pregnant she’s still the baddest bitch in the movie.

✨Tengen: He obviously like Kusco. It’s a pure unrefined fact.

Tanjirou Kamado: Monsters inc

🥹we all know both he and nezuko cried during this

🥹although it’s very sad he still really loves this movie.

🥹regardless if she’s Yandere for you or not (she probably is just because of how much her brother loves you and she really wants you to be her older sister) Nezuko is watching the movie with you guys

🥹I predict the reason he loves it so much is because Boo reminds him of Nezuko so much.

🥹He would never try to put the moves on you while watching a movie. He’s a respectful and traditional man who would never attempt to do anything against your will (other than kidnapping you) or anything sexual until after your married

Honorable Mentions Aka ones I was to lazy/no idea how to write (see what i did there)

EREN YEAGER: the school of rock

KATSUKI BAKUGOU: lilo and stitch

YUJI ITADORI: DIARY OF S WIMPY KUD RODRICK RULES (not nostalgic but it’s playing in my head on a constant loop)

SHUN KAIDOU: Anastasia

METORI SAIKO: Hermie and friends: Haily and baylies silly fight (for All my dudes who know what’s up. That shits my entire childhood regardless of if I’m not a Christian now)

Ok I really hope you liked this it took me around a week to write. Im having all of my exams at the moment so im busy studying and have been running low on idea’s, so please send me yours so I can make them a reality for you. Although sines im still new to tumblr I’ll have to ask you to message me privately about requests! But anyway I love you all dearly~ sincerely

Gia\Joden~ 💗🤍💜🖤💙

[ramp-it-up]

Sweetness

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Minors DNI, College AU, Poetry, Angst, pining, fluff, explicit language, explicit sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), squirting. All errors my own.

A/N: There is a credited poem at the beginning and my original poem at the end. This is the result of a combination of an ask from the 100 smut prompts ask list, and also an old (sorry Nonnie) prompt that fit very nicely together.  I struggled with this one.  Idk. Hope you like it Nonnies! 

----------

Intimate Talking 

We speak screen to screen, faces flash through satellites

But this progress in communication stumbles when we try to say

I'd like to try out something new, I'd like to learn to pleasure you

I think this might be fun, I'll show you round my body

If you'd like to come-

 Holly McNish

------

Rhode Island, 2003

The way you recited that poem earned his attention at Sophomore Slam. 

Having never talked to you before, he followed you around the theater until you did, and sought you out to chop it up. 

The fact that you’d beat him in the competition was one thing, but the fact that you were gorgeous and didn’t seem to know it was another.

You respected each other’s pen game and delivery.  Whenever you got together, Daveed would frequently get this dreamy look in his eyes and say it was like you came alive when you performed.  

Then, you’d get into some deep conversation about literature or writing or performing.  

You’d run your poems by each other and spend hours listening to the other practice for competition, eating pizza or indian or going to Dre’s Cupcake Shop, your favorite place to get something to eat.  

You made a ritual out of your weekly carb overload so much that became Daveed’s name for you, Cupcake.

It was the perfect relationship. 

And completely platonic.  

Even though you were very attracted to him, you promised yourself that you would never get with Daveed. And there was no mistaking that he was in the friend zone. 

He always seemed cool with it, and you kept the lines very clear. Because Diggs was dangerous.

Daveed was the resident track star and carried the pride of Brown University in his pants. 

A lot of people wanted to ride.  

On the other hand, you were just another brown English major nerd on the Brown campus.

When you were together, people frequently remarked that you and Daveed looked like brother and sister. It wasn’t funny, although you two laughed every time someone said it.  

What they didn’t see was you two rolling your eyes at each other afterwards. You loved Daveed.  

As a friend of course. He was the homie.

Your disappointment in your sex life thus far was an occasional topic of your poetry.  Daveed wanted to hear those particular pieces over and over to perfect them. He said they were your greatest works. 

In the area of sexual experience, you and Daveed couldn’t be more different. The fact that you’d let Kyle Jackson hit it a few times in sophomore year was the only reason you weren’t a virgin.

You guys were like yin and yang, together whenever classes, and your job at the campus coffee shop, and track, allowed. It was dope.

Six months after you two started hanging out together, Daveed missed the two classes you had together on Tuesdays.  

He never missed class.  

So, right after Comparative Lit was over, you opened up your Razr and spent precious minutes calling him.

“‘Lo?”  His deep, sleepy voice did something to you, but you were chllin’.

“Dude? What’s up with you?  Why weren’t you in class?”

“I’m feeling low today. Just wanna stay in bed.”

“But the poetry slam in Hartford is next week.  We gotta work on our pieces….” 

And, more importantly, he’d promised to go walk across campus to Dre’s with you.

“So what’s up, D?  Why are you moping around?”

“Fuck. I’m just thinking about this girl who broke my heart.”

Devin Walker. Must have been her. Daveed had been boning her for a couple of weeks.  Longer than any other chick who hung around.  Wow. The player got played.

“You’re shitting me?  You have a heart?.”

“Ha. Ha. Leave me to my morose musings, Cupcake. It’s hopeless.”

“Listen, I don’t have the minutes to waste on trying to get you out of bed. Bye.”

You flipped your phone closed and hurried to the opposite corner of campus.

-------

After Jace and Cal let you in the apartment, you went straight to Daveed’s room. It was pitch black and Prince’s Diamonds and Pearls cd was playing softly on his speakers.

You spotted the long lump with hair that was Daveed on his bed. 

You opened the curtains.  The entire atmosphere changed. It was only 3:15 in the afternoon.

“Diggs. Get up. Time to go. You’ve moped in here all day? What the fuck did that girl do to you?”

“Unnnnnnh,” was all the lump replied, and then turned over to face away from you.

You sat on his bed and shook his shoulder, slowly rubbing it. You could feel the muscles underneath. Daveed began to move, his arm snaking out to rub his head. 

He moaned again, looked at you, then sat up, the college blue block comforter falling to reveal his naked torso.

Holy shit, he was fine. But you already knew this. And he smelled so good. 

You could smell his body wash and shampoo and the scent of spice filled your nostrils. 

You were frozen on the edge of the bed, staring at his muscular chest and abs. Damn.  You were staring.

“Hey!”

“Hunh, what?”

“I said what are you doing here?” 

He wasn’t annoyed with you, just regarding you blankly as you intruded into his coping technique.

“I want to help. Why are you wallowing in bed like this? Did Devin break your heart?”

Daveed shifted again and now you could see his v-cut. 

Holy damn. 

You shifted over to his bean bag chair to give you some space.

Daveed rubbed his hands over his face and hair again and threw the covers back. 

You braced yourself, only to find that he had on grey Brown U sweatpants that matched the hoodie you may or may not have stolen from his room the last time you were over.  

And that you had on right now.

You realized you had been too interested in what he was or was not wearing. 

You tried to straighten up as much as you could in the beanbag chair. This was about Diggs, not your hormones.

“My heart is unavailable to people such as Devin Walker to break,” he replied and gave you a lopsided grin. 

You felt… some kinda way.

Daveed was looking at you strangely. You asked a question you should not have.

“Why is your heart unavailable to Devin?”

“That’s kinda personal…. “

He looked coyly at you as he leaned against the wall beside his bed. 

“But you know what? You know me better than anybody in the entire state of Rhode Island.”

You laughed at him.

“The State of Rhode Island has 8 times fewer people than New York City, Daveed.”

“But it’s a state. It’s a metaphor to illustrate how well you know me. So, I’ll tell you. My heart is taken by another woman.”

You were getting warm and your heart was beating faster for some reason. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up, and you were suddenly hot. You didn’t like where this was going.

“Oh well. I’m sorry for that girl.  I’ll leave you to it.”  

You had to get out of here, before something crazy happened. You stood up and made for the door.

Daveed’s long arms and fingers grabbed the hoodie and pulled you before you could make it to the door, causing you to fall back into his arms.

“Look what just fell into my lap.” 

His grin blinded you as you stared up at him and got caught up in his big ass brown eyes and the mint smell of his toothpaste.

To avoid being hypnotized by him, you shut your eyes, but that just intensified his aroma. You couldn’t help but inhale that Daveed coconut, spice, mint scent some more. 

You felt Daveed’s soft lips on yours.  You moaned and opened your mouth, letting him slip you his skillful tongue. 

His hands spanned your waist and his thumbs were dangerously near your chest.  You were trembling in his grip and growing moist.

When you realized what was happening, you jumped up.

“Why would you do that?” You were shocked. More at your reaction than to what he did.

“You mean, why would WE do that. You closed your eyes and moved toward me.  I thought you wanted…”

“TO SMELL YOU!” 

Both of you stared at each other wide-eyed, and then burst out laughing.

Daveed stood up from the bed and put his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry.. I thought you were catching my vibe.  I just wanted…”

“To have some fun while you wait for your mystery girl to fall into your arms.”

“Mystery girl?” The cute way he cocked his head was fucking dangerous.

“The one who has your heart.”

Daveed grinned again.  “She just did.”

What? Is what you said in your head.

“WHAT?” is what you said out loud.

Daveed retreated to the other side of the room and you got to watch his damn muscular back.

“If you don’t want anything to do with me romantically, you probably need to leave now.  If I explain myself, you won’t leave my room the same way you came in.”

You rolled your eyes at his arrogance.

“You’re not going to get out of explaining this shit to me with some bullshit like that. Explain yourself Diggs.” 

“It’s not bullshit.  You can’t hide that body under my stolen hoodies, even if they do go down to your knees.” 

He got that look in his eyes.

“It’s true, you have my heart. You’ve had it since Sophomore Slam.” 

Daveed shook his head and you sat back down on the bed.  

“I still call bullshit, D.”

“Ok, remember after that party two months ago, and I was so wasted that I could hardly walk?”

You nodded your head slowly. You didn’t get it.

“Remember that Cal asked you to get me back to my dorm safely?”

You remembered alright.

“So, remember that I wouldn’t get my key out and you had to go in my jean pocket to get it.  And then you walked me in here and dropped me on the bed?”

He continued to peer at you. 

“And then I asked you to help me take off my jeans and you started to unbuckle my belt but then just stopped and ran out?”

You crossed your arms.  “Yeah. What about it?”

Daveed breathed a long sigh.

“Wellll. Cal was trying to be my wingman, and I was sure, since I’d caught you checking me out, that when you got my pants off, that, you know…”

You felt like screaming at him, but you kept your voice low.

“How old are you? How fucking old are you Daveed? Are you 21 or 2?”

‘I know. I know. So I decided to just tell you, and last night was the night and then I went to your room and saw you in there with that Armando dude bro.

You started laughing.  “You saw me with him? Why didn’t you come in and say hello?”

“The same reason you don’t hang around when I’m with one of my chicks.”

“The difference is, I was not about to bone Armando.” You were getting heated.

“I saw him lean in for the kiss, Cupcake.”  He looked like a lost little boy.  It was kind of sweet. And kind of irritating.

“I guess you didn’t see me laugh in his face after he leaned in.” 

You glared at Daveed. 

“He was trying to play me with the ‘tutor me’ trick. And he’s a fucking dolt if he thinks that I would kiss him. Not attracted to him at all.”

You grimaced at the thought.

Daveed’s face lit up. He pointed to the bed beside you.

“So… you just kissed me back. That means...”

You crossed your arms and stared straight ahead as he approached the bed again.

“We’re friends, Daveed.” 

You watched as he crossed his chocolate arms.

“Oh. So  you haven’t been objectifying me since you came in my room this afternoon? I see you looking. And it’s not the first time either.”

You avoided his question.

“For someone who says I have your heart, you sure did give that D to everyone else…”

He shook his head at you.

“Why do you think I got with all those other girls?”

“Because they are beautiful and you like to fuck. You say it all the time, D.  Don’t. Play. Me.”  

It’s what you were afraid of. You held your head in your hands. This was your nightmare. 

“I do like to fuck. But I’ve not met anyone I want to make love to yet. Besides you. Those other girls are alright. They served a base purpose. But you are beautiful. You’re my ideal.” 

He sounded like he believed it.

Daveed knelt down so he could see your eyes.

“You gotta know that you are one of a kind.  Not only do your eyes light up like amber when you’re excited about something, but your lips when they speak poetry light my soul on fire.”  

Daveed with his damn words. You melted a little bit.  

“You...you think my eyes are like amber?”

“Yes.  And your voice is something that I have to hear everyday to calm my spirit.”

You just gaped at him.  Here he was, writing poetry about you. 

“Why do you think I ask you to recite your sexual frustration poems?  Not just because they are top tier, but because I want to learn what you need.”

He leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling.

“God I want you to write poetry about how I make you feel.”

You looked at him and when he looked you in the eyes again you could see his frustration.  

“I want you.”

You were caught up. You stared at him wide eyed, your bottom lip in your teeth.  

"Look. Stop fighting it." Daveed was serious. "You've got to give us a chance."

And he kissed you again. Your defenses were gone. You kissed him back, your arms coming up to put your hands in his hair.

He pulled back and looked in your eyes.  

“Do you want me too? Right here? Now?”

You smiled and nodded.  

“Yes, Daveed. I want this. With you. Right now.”

Daveed grinned. “You are so beautiful.”

He kissed down your neck to your collarbone and lingered there as you moaned. 

He pushed his hands under his hoodie up your torso. He rubbed your sides and then extended his thumbs to your nipples, looking at your face as he toyed with your breasts.

The pleasure on your face was everything. He started stroking and lightly squeezing your nipples, watching as you squirmed.  He was becoming as hard as a rock and you could feel it.

“Let me ask you a question.”  

You couldn’t speak. You were unsure of your voice and were biting your lip again. He continued.

“I’ve been wondering for the longest time, what color are your nipples? Are they light, or dark…?  I want to know if what I see in my dreams is true…”

You released your lip with a breathy “Fuck!” and then threw yourself at him.

Daveed grabbed your ass as you climbed on his lap and kissed him. 

Then, he moved his hands up to the hem of the hoodie and lifted it up, making you stop attacking him to raise your arms.

“Hot damn!” You heard him exclaim before you could see him again.

Daveed leaned back and stared at you, and you wanted to cross your arms and hide, but you just hunched your shoulders instead.

“No, sit up straight. Let me see you.”

You did it, and the more your spine straightened the more Daveed smiled.

“Much more beautiful than I dreamed.” 

He reached out and brushed the side of your breast, his thumb thrumming your nipple.  

The thrill that ran through you was unparalleled. You bit your lip again, which drew Daveed’s attention to it.

He leaned forward and kissed you again while palming your breast and squeezing your nipple, making your panties flood. 

His lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone and then down to your breasts, lightly kissing his way down.  

When his lips closed around your hard peak, he simultaneously squeezed the other nipple and twisted it at the same rhythm that he outright sucked the other.

“Oh God!” you exclaimed, making Daveed stop for a minute and smile against your flesh. 

Then he started pushing your breasts together, licking and biting from one nipple to the other.  

You were sure he could feel your arousal through your pants. You squirmed on his lap and started grinding your hips to get friction from his hard on. 

You could feel the heat radiating off of him. His body was impossibly warm with no shirt on.

“What do you want, Cupcake.  Use those words.  I know you know how.”  

The rich deep timbre of his aroused voice was giving you crazy ideas.  

Something crazy popped out of your mouth, but you had to admit what you were thinking, and what you had thought about many times before.

“I...I want to suck your dick.”  Daveed stopped and leaned back to look at you again.

“Really?”  You’d managed to surprise him.  You felt strangely victorious.

“Yes. I’m not very experienced, but…”

Daveed silenced you with a kiss and then chuckled. “No takebacks.” 

He leaned down to kiss each of your breasts again, then gently deposited you on the bed as he stood up in front of you. 

You watched as he leaned hooked his thumb in his sweats and leaned over to kiss you on the lips as he pulled them down. When he stood up, his cock practically hit you in the face. You jumped and then laughed nervously.

It was bigger than you thought it was. And you’d heard the stories.

You took it and felt the length, and the weight of it. You admired how strong and long it was and also its warmth. 

It was beautiful, smooth and brown; and it was calling you. Just holding it made you even wetter.

The way you looked at it made Daveed leak. 

You saw the clear bead at his tip and moved your head close, sliding your tongue out to taste it. 

You closed your eyes and continued to stroke, and before you could moan, Daveed did.

That inspired you and you opened your mouth and took it as deep as you could. 

You summoned the random porn videos you’d watched and hollowed your cheeks as you pulled it out with a pop. You licked the tip and then did it again.

Then you sped up.

“Shit, you look so good doing that. Feels good too. And you say you don’t know how...Well I don’t know how I’m going to…. last… long. Better than my wet dreams.” 

That inspired you to take him down your throat. 

It was less than three minutes from when you started. And you were making him your bitch already. Daveed was a moaning, quivering, mess.

“W-w-wait a minute, I’m gonna…fuck!” 

You kept going and looked him straight in the eyes while going faster and taking him deeper. The shout he let out when he came down your throat was everything.

You closed your eyes and concentrated to swallow everything, but you couldn’t help that some saliva and cum leaked out of the corner or your mouth and combined with the tears now streaming down your face.

Daveed looked down at you with pride, wiping the corner of your mouth and your face with his thumb.

“Damn. Cupcake.  That was pretty fucking good.” 

He leaned down and kissed your lips, tasting himself on your tongue. When he finished, you smiled back, proud of yourself. 

“Your turn.”

You squealed as he took hold of your hips and flipped you back down to the bed. 

He kneeled on the floor and his fingernails scratched as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties and pulled them down roughly, impatient to get at your pussy. 

You tried to cover up as you remember that you hadn’t shaved. Daveed was about to be confronted with a full bush.

Daveed smiled and shook his head.

“Fucking perfect.”  He put his hands on your thighs to open them, and met resistance.  His eyes met yours.  

“You still good?”  He was so earnest, and so eager that your anxiety faded. You let your legs fall open and you nodded, smiling at him.

He smiled back and rubbed his hands down your thighs to your apex, rubbing your lips with one hand as he reached to put the fingers of his other hand in your mouth.

“Get ‘em good and wet for me Cupcake.”

You did as you were told, moaning as he pumped his fingers in and out. 

“Open.” 

You opened your mouth and he lifted his fingers out, a trail of saliva still attached.

He smiled gratefully, as he brought his fingers to your cunt, swiping them up and down, enjoying the feel of your slick as he spread it around.

“Look at how beautiful you are..” 

You sat up, and the sight of what he was doing to you caused your pussy to flutter. Daveed felt it, and looked at you.

“That feel good?”  

All you could do was look at him and whimper. He held your gaze as he pushed his fingers deeper into you and curl them.  Your eyes rolled back into your head which lolled back on your neck as you arched your back.

Daveed admired the view of you, sitting on his bed, legs open, back arched and breasts fully on displayed as he finger fucked you.

He grabbed a nipple and squeezed as he thumbed your clit. Your legs started shaking.

“That’s it, Cupcake. Stay there. Take this. You gotta get ready for me. Cause I’m ready for you again.”

Your head snapped back up to see and sure enough, Daveed was large and in charge again.

“Fuck, Daveed. I need it.” 

Your legs shook more and he could feel your pussy walls grip his fingers. He couldn’t wait to be inside you.

“You need it? You want my dick?”

“Hell yes.”

“First, I need your cum. Watch me.” 

You sat up and watched as he leaned down toward your clit.  

You felt some kind of irrational dread as he wrapped his thick lips around it, sucked, then pulled it between his lips, releasing you with a pop. He kept fucking you with his fingers.

Your chest started heaving and you couldn’t catch your breath.

You’d never felt this way before. There was a strange pressure building in your belly, becoming more intense as he kept making out with your pussy. 

He licked, sucked, fucked you with his hand and curled his fingers, searching for something, and when he found it, you couldn’t control your hips as you ground your cunt against his face.

Daveed stopped, just for a moment, to speak.

“I said, watch me. Keep your eyes on me. I still need something from you.” 

The command in his made you feel some kinda way. Like you wanted to obey. What was this feeling? So sudden, and new?

You gave him what he wanted. 

“Daveed, stop... Oh god, wait...Oooohhhhhhhh.’ 

You shook and the pressure released.  All over Daveed. You squirted right into his face.  You were horrified and tried to get away, but Daveed looked delighted, and held you fast, so he could get his mouth on you.

When you were done, your hands were covering your face, your core still quivering. You were so embarrassed.

He took your hands away from your eyes. Daveed was watching you, the proud smile back on his face. 

“You look good all soaking wet."

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. I love that shit. You’re so fucking hot. Give me that ushy gushy shit all day long. I knew you were the girl of my dreams.” 

He climbed up your body, kissed you, and made you believe what he was saying.  You felt his erection against your thigh and got inspired for more.

“You gonna give me some?” You pulled away and waggled your eyebrows at him, getting bold.

“Oh, you mean some dick? Most definitely.” Daveed palmed your ass as he got up on his knees and parted your thighs again. 

He stroked his dick a few times while looking at your wet pussy. The way he was licking his lips and staring while pumping his cock made you quiver again. 

“Now THAT is hot.” You smiled down at him and bit your finger. 

“Oh.” Daveed raised his eyebrows. “You like to watch?”

He continued to stroke as he got off the bed and went to his bedside table and retrieved a condom, then came back to the bed.

Daveed opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist, still pumping and now teasing your slit.  He held you down as you tried to raise your pelvis to make you enter him, taking that control.

He sucked his bottom lip as he held back, wanting to take you roughly, but also wanting to take it slow.  He looked deep into your eyes as he slipped first his large head through your opening.

He stopped, closed his eyes and you both enjoyed the pounding of your bodies together.

“Shit girl, you got me slipping.” He smiled at you as he pushed further inside you, the stretch significant, but good, despite the wetness.

You had never felt anything like it. You back arched off the bed as he bottomed out, the slight pain of taking him fully eclipsed by the pleasure of feeling him inside you.

You prodded his ass to move and he obliged.

There were no more words as he snapped his hips into yours, now feeling that wonderful quiver around his cock.

“Damn girl, you feel so, so good.”  He dropped his head to your shoulder as he rolled his hips deeper into you, hiking your leg higher to dig deeper.

You started almost hyperventilating again, as you panted and moaned and scratched up his back searching for your release.

“Make me cum again. Please Daveed. It feels so good. Never felt this good before…”

And with that, Daveed lost control, the steady pace of his stroke gone, hips sloppily giving you what you and he wanted. The thought of him made you come as he lost control, and he followed you into that abyss.

Afterward, you lay there, messy and wanting to move, but never wanting to leave that space.

“That was so fucking sweet, Cupcake. I love you.” 

Daveed bit your neck, and you laughed, breathing, “I love you too, D,” in return.

----

One week later, Daveed’s face was proud again when you won the 2003 Hartford Slam with this poem

I love the weight of you.

Pressure and warmth all around.

Smell of brown skin smooth under my lips; hands touch and taste combine, condensing sensations into pleasure on the edge.

The sting of passion is welcome when surrounded by you.

A feel of love tastes of clover honey:

Sweetness, with a bite.

-------

Let me know if it’s good!

@theatrenerd86​ @sebastianabucknettastan​ @imatyoursurrvicesurr​ @riiyy​ @lonelydance​ @jbrizzywrites​ @sillyteecup​ @ohsoverykeri​ @biafbunny​ @summerofsnowflakes​ @honeysucklechocolatedrippin​  @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs​ @einfachniemand​

[amporella]

Have you ever seen/read any kyman fan content that you liked or that you felt like did it right?

Anon, I'm gonna be real with you.

Honestly, when it comes to ky/man fan content that I like(d) - there's none. I haven't found any ky/man fanworks that at all drew me towards the ship, and there's never been a fanfiction with ky/man as a background ship that I felt wouldn't be better off without it.

However, I also haven't actually consumed a lot of ky/man fanworks. If I ever read a fanfiction that involves it, it almost always fulfills at least two of three criteria; those two criteria being that it's by an author I trust, it's a background ship, or the author just didn't tag it properly. So I'm not the best source on what ky/man fanworks are good or not, because I'm just not super well versed in them!

That being said, I have heard decent things about How Long Till Your Surrender?, and its sequel Floor To Ceiling - but fair warning that while the first one is purely ky/man, the series actually ends with stanky, lol. I think that scenario is one of the only ones in which I can see ky/man occurring; namely, that Kyle's at an unhealthy point in his life, that the relationship is not healthy, and that it doesn't last forever, usually with Kyle realizing hey, someone out there actually loves me and won't call me antisemitic slurs all the time (and has never done so) so I should go get with them. People getting themselves into abusive relationships isn't uncommon - and I don't think it should be taboo to write about. I've read a few fics somewhat related to that (the holly cat fic, lmfao) that I've enjoyed (or at least tolerated), and I think I mainly start thinking 'holy shit, this is out of character' when it's healthy - and I could go totally off the rails right now and question the appeal of a healthy version of an inherently unhealthy ship, but I'm not going to because it would be boring, and because I'm pretty sure a friend of mine is going to at least touch on that in a future post.

Thank you for the ask, and I'm sorry I couldn't give you more of an actual answer! If anyone that follows me wants to share any content that they think did it right, please feel free to!

[parkhuh]

2021 Top Ten Reads

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

This was pretty difficult and I cheated a bit including series and not all singular books, but here is my narrowed down Top Ten Reads of 2021.

Disclaimer: I suck at reviews and have shit memory so

People We Meet on Vacation - Emily Henry

Number one, hands down. This book made me feel so many things. It can start off a bit slow, but at the end I loved the inclusion of each flashback, each important moment in Alex and Poppy’s relationship. Also can I fu- marry Alex Nilsen? It was a perfect mix of friends to strangers to lovers and opposites attract, and the angst hurt so good right up until the end. I could not get this book out of my head for weeks afterwards.

Scene thought about most after reading: When Poppy is sick and Alex skips the trip to come and take care of her and there’s that steamy moment in bed. Imagine Heat Waves by Glass Animals playing during that scene?? Yes.

From Blood and Ash (series) - Jennifer L. Armentrout

Look. I am... so into these books. The first one is the best in my opinion. The DRAMATICS. I loved the whole premise of the maiden and the whipped “bad boy” trope. I know this last book gets a little...much and I will admit I am kind of confused at this point but I figure, it’s a middle book. The middle of the series is always least favorite, and I love Poppy so much. Favorite character of the year by far. (also I like the smut but that’s beside the point)

Scene thought about most after reading: When the truth comes out/the betrayal reveal. I could FEEL Poppy’s pain in my chest, right in my heart.

Six of Crows (duology) - Leigh Bardugo

I first watched the Shadow and Bone Netflix show when I knew basically zilch about the Grishaverse and found myself so much more interested in the Crows than any other storyline lol so I went and read the books and W O W do I understand the duology’s high ratings on Goodreads.

I love every character so much and just every detail of their character and the reveal of their background. Kaz Brekker’s.... hurt my heart. I was just so blown away by 

Scene thought about most after reading: Kaz’s background reveal. I’m still picking up the pieces of my heart.

The Cruel Prince (series) - Holly Black

Wow what to even say about this series. Jude is amazing. Cardan is a little shit but amazing. Very political with a dash of romance but I loved it. Jude is a bad bitch. Just go read it.

Scene thought about most after reading: The plot twist at the end of the first book. I was already hooked but that had me HOOKED. Also, I don’t think this is in the books, but the “just come home.” letter Cardan sends to Jude that she doesn’t receive. Ugh. Chefs kiss.

Cemetery Boys - Aiden Thomas

Yadriel and Julian just... gave me so many warm feelings. The imagery was amazing, the characterization was amazing, the entire journey it takes the reader on was amazing. Thee entire time I was wondering “....okay but does it have a happy ending and how??” and WOW WAS I SURPRISED AND OVERJOYED. 

Scene thought about most after reading: When Julian crosses out Yadriel’s deadname in his yearbook and puts his real name MY HEART

The Bridge Kingdom (duology) - Danielle L. Jensen

UGH the drama and the angst and the way it takes SO LONG FOR THEM TO FINALLY GET BACK TOGETHER. I loved every bit of it. The series is literally a rollercoaster ride and just oof. Another one - just go read it.

Scene thought about most after reading: Literally the ending when Lara saves the day and then Aren saves her and they reunite and ugh 

Not My Problem - Ciara Smyth

My first favorite book of the year. I did not think it would be as deep as it was, but it definitely covered a lot of important topics regarding alcoholism, poverty, teenage relationship (both friendship and romantic). The main character, Aideen, is fucking hilarious but her struggle really hits as well, sometimes especially when she’s trying to be funny. 

Scene thought about most after reading: The ending when Aideen finally asks for help. I liked that we don’t see her actually receiving the help, because the point of her journey was to get to where she finally could admit she needed help and to actually ask for it.

These Violent Delights (duology) - Chloe Gong

I usually am not a big retelling fan, and I am definitely not much of a Romeo & Juliet fan but this was such a great retelling. I will be honest and say I liked TVD obviously, but OVE felt so much stronger and I read it to much easier. It felt more relationship driven than TVD and I was so enraptured in what was going to happen. I didn’t even think of not knowing for sure if it has the same ending as Romeo & Juliet, but I loved it so much.

Scene thought about most after reading: That final scene before the epilogue in Our Violent Ends. And then the epilogue. Pain. But hope? But pain. I didn’t even think of not knowing for sure if it has the same ending as Romeo & Juliet, but I loved it so much.

Daisy Jones & The Six - Taylor Jenkins Reid

The format of this book was my favorite part. It was a great way to write it, but still told the whole story (granted, from various POVs but still.) And it felt so real, like I think if someone had given this to me with no title or cover and I had no knowledge of music from that time I would have believed it was a real band and their story.

Scene thought about most after reading: The end reveal and Camila’s last thing to say. Ugh, my heart.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid

This book took me on a trip. I loved following along with Evelyn and learning the reason for each marriage because I doubted every single one was a natural love match. I already had been spoiled on the actual love plotline so that wasn’t a surprise, and despite everything, I was glad they had their happy ending (in a way.)

Scene thought about most after reading: Celia realizing Evelyn had slept with Mick Rivas as part of the marriage ruse felt like such an important point of their relationship to me and the ways in which it wasn’t working and what they would later need to work on. 

Honorary Mentions

Serpent and Dove (series) - I’m sad a lot of people seemed to give up on this trilogy because they didn’t like the second book, but I really enjoyed it. The third book was so great imo, 

Today, Tonight, Tomorrow - This book was just fun. It takes place in one day so it’s a quick read. The main character did annoy me sometimes, but I kind of felt that’s the point and really drove her self realization home in the end. 

A Court of Thorns and Roses (series) - The first book in this series is what really drew me back into reading. It was so fantastical and so much was happening and I was just so pulled in, I can barely explain it. I know we hate tampon and my interest wained in the third book but I really hold the first book close because the things it did to my little reader heart.

My entire 2021 read list - with a ☆ to show all my favorites

[sabraeal]

And Spring Became the Summer

[Read on AO3]

The very last of my follower fics for the 700 Followers gifts! This one was the bonus for making it to 750 before December, and I’m so glad I’ve FINALLY gotten this done...so I can do it all over again this year 🤣

The last term paper Mitsuhide writes for his undergraduate career he slips into a glossy plastic portfolio-- double-spaced and double-sided, graphs printed in full color-- and turns in personally.

It’s a wide-eyed TA that takes it, seated behind a desk that’s far too big for her. Or well, she’s not wide-eyed at first; instead she’s bent over her work, only glancing up absently to make sure she has it in hand. But a second one turns absence to alarm, eyes fixing to where he grips the plastic, and suddenly he’s all-too aware how easily how just one of his hands could swallow both of hers.

So is she; her eyes pulse wide, and then she’s tracing the line of his arm up and up doggedly, like as long as she just keeps going, she might hit the end of him. When she finally does, he offers her a sheepish smile, shoulders hunched lessen the blow.

She shrinks back, a mousey brown head peeking above an oversized university sweatshirt. So much for that.

“You could have emailed this,” she squeaks, plucking the plastic sleeve from his grip. “I mean, not that you can’t hand it in. It’s just, er...”

“No one does,” another adds, rolling across the floor with a level of curiosity that he’s pretty sure an in-person paper doesn’t warrant. When she measures him with her gaze, she enjoys every inch. “Pretty old fashioned, if you ask me.”

He recognizes both of them; their names had been on the syllabus at the beginning of the semester. He’d found them both on the department website, Amanda wearing the same Clarines sweatshirt she had on today, and Holly’s clearly from some beach vacation, cropped from the shoulders up.

(“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a stalker,” Obi says, hanging upside down from the armchair.

“I’m-- I’m not!” Mitsuhide sputters, heat creeping up his neck. One day, Obi would slip up and say these things in front of someone who mattered, someone with a much more rigid sense of humor than Professor Gazelt, or didn’t know to take every word of his with an ocean of salt like Dean Haruka, and then it would be him that got seated in front of a disciplinary committee. The last thing he needed to do before even finishing law school applications was explain his brother’s poor taste in jokes on the record. “It’s just...”

“That you’re compelled to look at cute girls on the university website?” he offers, so casual. “I could think of hotter majors, if you wanted. Psych seems like it’s the sort of place real tens might hand out, right? Maybe, uh, Education? Kindergarten teachers always are cute--”

“It’s polite,” Mitsuhide grits out, shoulders hunched up by his ears. “You should know everyone on staff in your department, just the way you should know everyone you work with. It’s the proper way to network.”

Obi watches him with wide eyes, like he’s some kind of zoo animal or-- or one of those really bad cooks on TV, the kind who tries to pan fry a chicken whole. “God, you don’t actually do that, do you?”

“It’s the secret to good business.” At least, that’s what his parents always told him.

“You must be...” Obi savors the moment, looking positively euphoric as he says, “Really fucking creepy at the department Christmas party.”)

“No one did,” says the first-- Amanda, graduate summa cum laude from Columbia-- tone aimed to shush. “I’m, uh, happy to take that, though.”

He gives her his most gracious smile. “Thank you.”

“No,” Holly-- Penn State, no honors-- mutters, casting him a speculative glance from the corner of her eyes. Hers go up and up too, but seem to come to a much more amicable conclusion. “Thank you.”

“Stop.” Amanda’s hands flex on the thin plastic; she has soft hands, a callus only on the knuckle of her middle finger, where a pen might rest. Like Shirayuki, only without the thousand nicks and cuts that dot her fingers, battle wounds from wrangling recalcitrant plants.

Her chin pulls up, set in a determined line as she says, “Congratulations on graduating.”

“Ah...” It’s a kind thought, and meant well, but knowing he’s about to spend the next three years earning the degree that counts softens the blow. “Thank you. I hope you have a nice, um, summer?”

“Definitely will be nicer not to grade papers,” Holly offers, immune to Amanda’s shushing. “Do you have pl--?”

“We should get back to grading,” Amanda says, just to the left of too loud. “Have a nice summer.”

Never repeat yourself, Mama always told him, it weakens your position.

You can never be too polite. That’s what Papa would say, when he thanked the cashier for a third time.

Mitsuhide winces; he’s always hated this, being stuck between his parents. It’s clearly time to leave. “Right. Bon été, Amanda.”

“Was that French,” he hears hissed the moment he’s stepped out the door; the same moment another voice says, “Did I tell him my name?”

He should have just emailed it. Mitsuhide can make any number of excuses about the joys of collating and color printing, about face-time and networking, but at the end of the day, he has to call a spade a spade: this has all been an excuse. A thin one too, to keep him out of the house. To put off what he knows need doing.

Mitsuhide steps into the cool air of the foyer, shivering as it catches the sweat that beaded at his hairline on the walk. His courage peaks as he stands there, right next to the shoe mat, grand stair stretching up before him, still in his oxfords--

And immediately effervesces when he catches sight of smooth, bare legs on the coffee table, fuzzy slippers worth more than his phone perched up on the mahogany. This is it, the moment of truth, fight or flight, and he-- he doesn’t know which way to run.

So he doesn’t. He’s drawn there with inexorable motion, a magnet to a lodestone, the hard soles of his shoes clacking against the wood the only thing keeping him grounded. It takes only a few steps before long, tanned legs lead up to sleep shorts; not the clingy kind that curve and cup, but the ones that hang like boxers around the tops of her thighs, rucking up as she moves. After that it’s a hoodie, worn loose and baggy, like it’s supposed to fit someone twice her size, its hood drawn tight against her face. Nothing...sexy, not the way Obi might say, with far too much eyebrows involved. But still, his mouth runs dry, tongue heavy behind his teeth.

How on earth is he going to do this?

“Kiki.” He speaks before he thinks, sinking down on the table. It creaks beneath him, ominous. “I owe you a date.”

“Oh shit.” Obi flops over on the recliner, wide gold eyes peeking over the arm. “Check out the balls on this kid.”

This is a terrible idea. He should have known not to do this in a-- a common room, one where other brothers might be hiding.

“Sorry,” he creaks, levering himself up. “I didn’t realize-- you’re clearly busy--”

“No.” Kiki’s lays her feet right on his thighs, pushing him down with a thump. “You were saying something important.”

He darts a glance to the shadow squirming obnoxiously on soft leather. “But Obi--”

“Obi,” she informs him, as imperious as any C-suite member, “can leave.”

Obi doesn’t so much bark out a laugh as honks it. “Not unless I got time to make popcorn.”

Her head doesn’t move an inch from where she’s got it, chin tilted up to meet his own gaze. Her eyes though, those slide pointedly away, fixed at their corners, radiating malice. Kiki is slow to speak, deliberate when she does, but her eyes-- well, there’s a wealth of words in every look, and right now they’re reading Obi the riot act.

It would have worked better if Obi wasn’t already so used hearing it.

“Ignore him,” Kiki decides, attention snapping back to him. “He’s furniture.”

“Oh, Ms Kiki,” Obi drawls, barreling towards a mistake, “you could sit on me any--”

“You were saying?” she says, every word iron. Obi takes the hint, for once.

“I, uh...well, you paid for a date,” Mitsuhide manages lamely, darting a worried look to where Obi lounges on the chair. “I mean, you paid a lot for a date. And I understand that you may have just wanted to donate to the frat, but if you wanted to--”

“I told you,” Kiki says, dry, toes flexing firmly on his knee. “I expect you to make it worth my while.”

“Ah, y-yeah.” Her saying that while looking at him like she did-- well, his brain had that queued up every time he blinks his eyes. Sometimes it changed venues, and there were some, uh, costume changes at times, but if he shut his eyes right now it’d spool up with perfect fidelity. “I thought it might, um, d-distract you if we tried before finals, but since you’ve finished-- we’ve finished--”

“As of twenty minutes ago,” Obi adds, so helpful.

“--I thought it might be a fun way to relax.” He’s honestly never felt less relaxed in his life just sitting here, contemplating it. Half of it he can chalk up to Obi, curled over the recliner like a gremlin, waiting to wreak his version of chaos the second he can weasel his fingers in, but the other--

Well, it’s hard to ask someone on a date when you know they’ve already got someone in mind for the position. Even if it’s just-- this. As friends.

His heart’s in his throat. At least, that’s what he thinks until Kiki’s mouth curves; then he knows it’s never been in his possession at all, but always utterly hers. “Sounds like fun.”

Tension rushes out of him on a sigh. “Ah, great. I though we might, er, go to Boston? You know,” he hurries to spit out, before any words can fall from her parted lips, “since there’s not much out here we haven’t seen.”

She hesitates. Of course she does. Boston’s practically her hometown, and he’s sitting here, thinking it’ll impress her. Like she hasn’t seen everything that’s worth seeing there twice over and in private. That she hasn’t just told him no outright is a testament to how well Mr Seiran’s raise her, and--

“Let’s make a day of it.”

Mitsuhide startles, nearly tipping off the table’s edge before he glances up, right into her row of perfectly straight teeth. Her mom’s smile, she always told him, but he’s only ever seen it on her. “I-- yes. That’s..good.”

Her lips curl, hiding her teeth. “Let me handle the accommodations.”

“Ah, no.” His head sweeps through big, nervous back-and-forths. “I couldn’t possibly ask you to--”

“You’re not,” Kiki informs him. “I’m telling you. I’ll handle accommodations. You’re seeing to the rest of the weekend, correct?”

“Y-yes.” He tries to fold his arms across his lap, but with her feet right on his thighs, it ends up with his hands covering her ankles. He expects her to move them, but instead her legs still, tendons relaxing under his palms. “That’s the plan, but, really--”

“It’s the least I can do.” She shifts her macbook off the couch’s arm, fingers already flying across the keyboard. “One night?”

“I...” He should decline. He should tell her that if she can drop a whole K on a date with him, he can shell out for one night at a hotel with a higher rating than a Holiday Inn.

But this is Kiki Seiran, heir to Seiran International. She’s not just used to five stars but the penthouse suite. He could book four star cheap on Hotwire, but imagining her in one of those suites, the sheets starched and thread count insufficient--

“Yeah,” he grunts, “one night’s fine.”

“Perfect.” Her teeth snap around the word. “Leave it to me.”

“So,” Obi starts before Mitsuhide’s even hit the last step. “We have a bet going on.”

He grimaces, shifting the duffel over his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

‘Pretty sure’ turns to ‘certain’ once he catches Obi’s grin. “It’s about whether you’ll get your dick wet.”

“Sorry, not interested.” He heaves the bag beside the front door, brushing off his shorts. “Isn’t it too early for you to be up? I thought you didn’t know about the hours before ten.”

“I had motivation,” Obi assures him, slinking up beside him with a grin a mile wide. “You know, Shiira says that you won’t on the grounds that you’re a gentleman.”

More like the lady isn’t interested. “I already said I wasn’t--”

“Kai says you will,” he continues blithely, “and you’ll come back on time. Shuuka agrees, except that he thinks you’ll miss check out with all the boning down and won’t make it back until evening.”

“Isn’t this breaking the bylaws?” Mitsuhide grunts, slipping on his sneakers. “Don’t we have something about betting...?”

“For money,” Obi agrees. “Zen still wouldn’t put a bet down though.”

That’s assuring at least. “Of course n--”

“Shiira already took his.” Obi shakes his head. “And we wouldn’t allow him to say the same thing except that he thinks it’s because you’re and idiot.”

Well, that’s a little rich, coming from Zen. Mitsuhide was loath to remind anyone that besides Obi, he is the most experienced, but-- some people should be taking that into account. Even if nothing is going to happen.

“Don’t worry, Big Guy.” Obi claps him on the shoulder, smile somehow drifting towards kindly. “I gave you until Monday.”

“Obi--”

“And Kiki will walk in with a limp.”

“Obi, you know that’s not...” His breath hisses between his teeth. “That’s not what me and Kiki are like.”

“You keep thinking that, Big Guy, but--” he leans in, cupping a hand around his mouth-- “my original bet was gonna be Tuesday. Too bad Kiki had already taken it.”

Mitsuhide stares at him, slack-jawed. “W-what did you just--?”

“I should have known, you’re already here.”

His head jerks up, right to the top of the grand stair, the beginning of a quick glance-- but it’s no use. There’s no possible way he could make his eyes focus anywhere but on Kiki, not when she’s wearing-- when she’s--

“Ooh.” Obi’s mouth curls, matching Kiki’s knowing smirk. “Is that a skirt?”

It is. And not-- not her field hockey kit, mid-thigh with shorts beneath, but and actual skirt, one that floats just above her knees, gauzy and floral. A single flash of leg tells him there’s nothing else beneath. Ah, well, besides the obvious. Mitsuhide swallows hard, mouth dry.

She raises a brow, hand trailing sinuously down the banister beside her. “It is a date, isn’t it?”

Her heels clack when she takes the last step into the foyer, clack because it’s the cork of her wedges that hits the floor first, because-- nom de Dieu-- she’s wearing shoes that tilt her a few inches close to him. Close enough that he could just bend at the neck and--

“Ah,” he coughs, fingers clenching in his shirt. “You might be a little overdressed. At least for this first part.”

Both her brows raise now. “Am I?”

“God,” Obi mutters at his shoulder, head buried in his hands. “You could at least say she looks nice.”

Well, when he’s right, he’s right.

“You look, ah, great though,” Mitsuhide hurries to add. “Beautiful.”

Kiki, to his surprise, beams. “Well, I brought a few outfits. I’ll change at the hotel.”

“Ah, sure.” He scoops up his duffel, holding out a hand for her bag as she passes. “You’re ready to go?”

Her mouth quirks at a corner. “As I’ll ever be.”

He hums, uncertain, suddenly left-footed with her so close. They should leave, but that involves a number a movements he’s suddenly stymied by.

Thankfully, Obi opens the door, practically shoving him onto the porch. “All right kids, be safe now.”

“Obi...”

“Don’t worry,” Kiki drawls, sashaying over the threshold. “I packed plenty of condoms.”

The door cuts off Obi’s laugh, but Mitsuhide can’t escape the pounding of his heart.

“You know,” he sighs, trailing after her, “you’re only encouraging him when you say things like that.”

“Oh that’s too bad,” she hums, floating past. “I was trying to encourage you.”

[too-scared-to-do-this]

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter four - Bloody hell!

Sander’s side fanfiction

Wordcount: 1304

Ships: still just prinxiety 

TW: mentions of blood, cursing, injury, post-operations stuff talk kinda, imprisonment, a lot of panicking and distress - which kind off resembles an anxiety-attack but not really. I think I’ve got all. As always, if I missed anything, let me know, please. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. :3

Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the  most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

-----------------------------------------

Chapter four - Bloody hell!

Not only does time not work in Hell, but apparently physics doesn’t either. Because no matter how Virgil looked at it, there was just no way this weird figure could’ve fallen straight onto him from the place he was situated at.

He was climbing the throne from the back. Reaching from the side. So please explain to him, how the hell was he able of falling fall over and landing directly on top of the king?

Either Hell was truly that massed up, or this person was just unconventionally clumsy.

Virgil didn’t have much time to ponder on it, though. He yelped and pushed the stranger off. Which resulted in poor Roman landing on his back on the hard ground. Broken stalagmites and new once that were just growing out pushed into his back, his head hitting a particularly sharp one.

Dull ache spread through his whole body. “Aw…” he groaned weakly, reaching for his head. Carefully trying to lift himself into a sitting position, the voices around him started to come back to him.

Someone on his right was barely breathing, short fast breaths not enough to satisfy their lungs. And someone on his left was laughing their ass off.

Roman frowned at the general direction of the laugh. This was not funny.

And why was everything so hazy? His vision was fogged and blurry and his hearing muffled and muted down. And oh god, his head!

He pulled his hand away. Even this out of focus, he could make out the big red splotch that covered his palm. Well, this is just great!

He had to get out of there before these things could lock him up, but the room was starting to spin and his eyes got kind off heavy… He just wanted to lay down… just for a little bit….

“Startup immediate! Let’s fucking eat him!”

Well at least that’s what Roman made out of what the creature on his right said. And that didn’t sound like the most pleasant thing. He didn’t feel like sleeping anymore. He had to get up! He had to run!

In reality, what Virgil said was: “Shut up, you idiot! They’re fucking bleeding!”

Panic seeping all the way to his bones he rushed over to the distressed stranger. This wasn’t good! He couldn’t leave them to just bleed out!  

Remi paid his master’s stressed-out state no mind. He was too preoccupied leaning over, just barely standing - laughing so hard. “And?”

Virgil couldn’t believe this! “Remington! Go get the fucking healers!”

When Virgil got distressed and needed people to listen, his voice pitched down a few octaves and doubled over. Demons called it his Monster voice.

In this particular instance, the Monster voice was nothing compared to the way he roared at the servant.

He immediately shut up and ran off to find help.

The king was left alone with a very woozy, barely conscious and scared to death Roman. “Oh shit! Don’t die on me...! Please...!”

He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Could he touch the creature? Should he touch them? What if they have a broken rib or something? 

They ended up just awkwardly hovering over the wounded figure.  

Meanwhile, Roman didn’t even know what was going on. His mind was too foggy to comprehend anything. He just sat there, willing himself to think the one thought he needed to think.

But what was that thought again?

Some-Something about… running?

Yeah, yeah that…

He… he wanted to run. From what...?

Nobody seemed to be nearby… So why did he want to…

Wait, what did he want again…?

Oh, right. Sleep…

Virgil’s hand-hovering came to an end the moment the med-team stepped into the hall. “Your Majesty.” the demons all bowed.

“Stop bowing and get this Human to the med-bay! Immediately!”

“Yes sir.” the main healer nodded shortly and rushed over to the thief. The rest followed.

The devil let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and fall back against the throne. It was going to be okay now. His healers are the best in the under-world. They’ll take care of them.

He watched as they took the now unconscious figure away. Remi walked up to him, not-bothered as always. “I don’t see why we couldn’t just left it to bleed out.”

Virgil was too tired for this. His mind was going three miles per second and he just needed to calm down… He turned his cold gaze at the demon. “You’re a mind reader. Figure it out.”

That shut Remi up. No matter how much fun it would’ve been to see the Human suffer, hearing what ran through his king’s head wasn’t fun at all. He wasn’t about that. “I’ll be throwing down damned souls into the pit. If you need me, just call my name, babe. Byeeeee!!” And with a finger-wiggle wave, he left the room.

Virgil didn’t feel like getting up. The ground seemed comfortable enough for now. (There wasn’t much of a difference between it and the throne anyway.)

A Human being. A living, breathing, Human flashbang. He hasn’t seen a living specimen in… He doesn’t even know when was the last time one stood before him.

And now there was one in his med-bay. Antichrist, this was bad!

What is he even supposed to do with a creature like that? Besides torture, obviously. Sweet mother of evil!

The devil sat there, contemplating un-life until one of the healers walked into the hall.

“Your highness, the Human has been dealt with. We stopped the bleeding, and stitched up the wound best we could. It is still unconscious, though, so we locked it in one of the cells, temporarily.”

“Thank you, Lucius. Let me know when they wake up.”

“Yes, sir.” with that, the servant left. And Virgil finally climbed back on that uncomfortable throne. He pulled his phone out, and started scrolling through Tumblr once again. Things didn’t seem so boring anymore.

-

Roman came to a few hours later - not that he knew how much time had passed. What he knew though, was that he was in a dark cell guarded by two demons. Even through his hazy brain he could understand the situation he was in - he was a prisoner. ”Oh, holly mother Teresa!” he freaked, standing up and rushing over to the bars. Well, more like he stumbled...

“You have to let me out! Come on! You don’t understand! Let me out!” he gripped the cold stone bars.

One of the guards looked at him, then exchanged looks with the other. The second nodded and left, leaving Roman with a very angry looking demon.

He gulped. “Mr. Ehr, Miss- am… I… ah, please let me go…?”

The guard didn’t even glance at him.

Well, this was going well.

The second guard entered the throne hall and bowed down deep. Virgil rolled his eyes. “I’ve been telling you for thousands of years to stop bowing! It’s betting annoying.”

The demon straightened up immediately, nodding ashamed. “I apologize, your evilness.” Another eyeroll. These titles were getting better by the decade.

“What’s up, Derius?” he leaned on the arm-rests, razing his eyebrow.

“The prisoner woke up.”

Oh. Oh shit. Okay. Okay... “Are they okay?”

“It seems fine. IA bit out of it and scared, but that is to be expected. We did just imprison it in an environment completely different from his natural habitat…”

Virgil nodded, feeling his heartrate spike and slow again. They were all right.

Then an idea popped up in his head. Slowly, a grin pulled at his lips. Remi wanted fun, didn’t he?

Virgil could be fun. (Now that he knew nothing serious was happening with the Human.) Virgil could be very, very fun. He bit his lip and looked up at the guard.

“Bring me that thief.”

-----------------------------------------

Iiiiiiii can’t even believe it!

Another part, right the next day? I’m kicking this block’s ass, y’all! :D And look where we are! Remember that first anonymous comment that started all this?

But hey, I really hoped you enjoyed it. :3

If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. If I have an answer I’ll gladly share it. And if I don’t, you just helped me come up with another addition to the story ;D

I’ll be back with a new chapter as soon as possible :) 

(I wasn’t kidding when I said this was becoming my new hyper-fixation XD)

Bye, for now <3

Tag list:

@alice-only-me 

[imaginingsoftly]

Baseball Trivia Pt.4  - Josh Anderson

Type: Y/N insert shorts, strangers to enemies-ish to lovers, series

Requested: No

Warnings: standard swearing

A/N: This is the final part! Thank you all so much for reading along, and I hope you enjoyed! Just a note on something from the beginning of the piece, an SID is a Sports Information Director. It’s what Y/N does, I just hadn’t mentioned the title previously.

It was uncharacteristically hot in Vancouver, and it fit Y/N’s angry mood. The anger from Josh’s accusations still hadn’t worn off, and it wasn’t making her job any easier as she dealt with yet another SID who couldn’t follow directions. University of Alberta’s SID clearly hadn’t read any of her emails, and she knew he’d been screening her calls once she started making them since he couldn’t be bothered to read the emails. She had access to Alberta’s stats, but only through their website, so she didn’t know if they were updated, and he had yet to get her a starting lineup. Apparently she would have to go above his head for that. 

Tom, one of the grounds guys who had been with the university for as long as she’d been alive, waved as she stomped down the stairs of the press box. “Going to teach some people a lesson?” Tom laughed as she threw her hands up in the air in a ‘you guessed it’ gesture, and she smiled slightly as she slipped outside. It was impossible to stay mad when Tom was around. 

Both of the teams were warming up already, though thankfully Alberta’s coach was standing on the sideline and not running the drills from the field. Their SID was nowhere to be seen, and Y/N was beginning to wonder if he even existed. If he wasn’t in the press box with her he should have been on the field with the coaches. She caught a couple of the players ogling her as they completed their drills, and she groaned inwardly. She was wearing khakis and a university polo, for fucks sake! 

The coach looked in her direction when she was about ten feet away, and he headed in her direction. “Coach Anderson! It’s nice to meet you.” Y/N stuck out her hand to shake as she reached him, and he gripped her right hand with a smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the SID for UBC. I was hoping to get your lineup for today?” Anderson nodded tightly. 

“Yes, of course,” he said briskly, “Jerry didn’t send it to you?” Y/N shook her head, and he pursed his lips. “That’s the third time this season. I apologize, Y/N.” She smiled at the coach and assured him it was no trouble, even though inwardly she was swearing. As long as she had her lineup, she’d get over it. Several members of the team stared at her as she walked away, she could feel it, but a whistle blew and Anderson yelled at them to get back to work. Y/N smiled inwardly. At least one of the men out here wasn’t an ass.

The game went off without a hitch, and media went faster than usual, and Jerry finally appeared when it was time for media. Who the hell knows where he was during the game. It was early in conference play, and UBC was a hell of a lot better than Alberta. There wasn’t much of a story to be written. Tom was still working on the field when she finished writing her overview, riding slowly on a mower through the field. It would be the women’s turn to play tomorrow, and Y/N knew Tom liked the field to be perfect on game days. He looked happy on his mower, his straw hat still sitting on his head from earlier, when it was sunny. These were the moments she lived for, outside of the chaos of game time. The athletics side of campus was so peaceful at night. Y/N smiled over at the baseball field as she slid past, her favorite place to work. She would have to get Sam, the facilities director, to unlock the gate for her tomorrow. It was her favorite place to work outside of the office. 

She finally left campus a little after nine, and debated stopping to get food. On one hand it would be nice to have it ready after she showered, but on the other it wasn’t in her budget for the week. It was a bone-deep exhaustion that had takeout calling her name as she drove through the city, but Y/N convinced herself it wouldn’t take long to make something small when she got home. Maybe oatmeal. The climb up ten floors in the elevator felt like it took longer than usual, and Y/N let herself into her apartment with a groan. This was her sanctuary. All of the wandering eyes and the unnecessary stress of fighting sexism to prove her worth to the department melted away when she got her first glimpse of the city view every night. The apartment sat in the middle of the city, high enough that she had a fantastic view. Outside of the baseball field, this was her favorite place in Vancouver.

Y/N was just about to open up a beer to shower with when a knock sounded at her door. It was late for visitors, even for Thatcher to show up, so she approached the peep-hole cautiously. Josh stood on the other side, food in one hand and coffee in the other. “What the hell,” Y/N whispered to herself. She looked up to the sky, cursing whoever had given him her address, and opened the door. 

He looked scared when she opened it, and she tried not to laugh at the sight, despite also wanting to slam the door in his face. “What.” Josh bit his lip at the harshness of her tone.

“I came to apologize.” Josh lifted his hands to show the food, as if to prove his words. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was in anger, but that’s not an excuse. I’d like to talk, at least try to be civil.” Y/N sighed, but she opened the door further. Josh hesitated, but he stepped inside. 

He looked good, and Y/N cursed her body for how it reacted to him. He looked cozy like always, in joggers and a t-shirt, and Y/N had to mentally hold herself back so she didn’t run her fingers through the dark hair falling in his eyes. Josh gestured silently at the coffee table with the food and drinks, and she nodded. They moved together to the living area, and Y/N hesitated slightly when Josh put the stuff on the table and then settled onto the couch. “Will you sit, please?” Josh’s voice was soft, and she sat before thinking about it. “Bo told me your address,” he said with a small smile, “I’m sure you were probably wondering how I knew it.” She was going to kill him. And Holly. Damn meddling assholes. 

“Did they tell you to apologize too?” The words came out sharper than Y/N meant for them too, and she almost felt bad when Josh leaned back slightly. 

“I was already planning on it when they told me to. If it makes you feel any better, Holly slapped me when I told her what I said.” Y/N put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. Of course she did. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I was upset, yeah, and probably more than a little jealous, but that’s not an excuse. It wouldn’t have mattered if you did sleep with half the team, I didn’t have any right to call you a puck bunny.” He paused, like he was trying to decide if he should continue.

“Holly also told me a little bit about you, and about your ex. I hate that I talked about you the way that I did, especially since everyone tells me you do so much for the guys. You flinched slightly when I accused you of messing with the team, and I don’t ever want to be the reason you get that look on your face again. If I could take it all back, maybe start over again, I wouldn’t have said any of it.” 

He smiled a little. “Actually, I probably would have mentioned I thought you and Thatcher were dating and that I was jealous, because that part is true. I really like you, Y/N. I’ve been an asshole, and it’s been really easy to ignore it. You’re going to think I’m a total dick when I say this, but you stuck with me after we hooked up. It was hard to believe that you’d left that night, and that you didn’t leave me with anything. No note, no last name, nothing. That’s usually my job.” Y/N broke up Josh’s words as she threw a wadded-up napkin she didn’t realize she was holding at his head. Josh looked at her in shock for a second, and she mouthed a silent ‘sorry’. He began to laugh, and shook his head. “No, I deserved that. It was an asshole thing to say. Anyway, Y/N, I’m really fucking sorry, and I’d like to start over if you’d let me.”

It was hard to stay pissed when he was looking at her with puppy eyes. She was still mad, sure, but damn it he spoke well. And he’d brought food from Luigi’s, her favorite Italian place in the city. Y/N met Josh’s eyes again and made her choice. 

“I don’t want to start over.” Josh deflated a little bit, and she registered a surprising level of disappointment in his eyes. He began to stand, nodding, but Y/N reached out a hand to stop him. “I’m not going to pretend last night didn’t happen, and I sure as hell don’t want to forget our night in Ohio.” Josh looked down, eyes wide, and she smiled slightly. “I like you. A lot. But if you ever talk about me like that again I will make you wish you’d never stepped foot in Vancouver.” She squeezed Josh’s arm slightly to go with her warning, and he nodded. Josh sat down slowly.

Y/N released his arm, only to grip his hand lightly. “You want a beer? I’d offer you wine, since you guys usually drink that stuff during the season, but I hate the shit. I don’t keep any here.” Josh laughed and okay-ed the beer. She stopped to take a deep breath into the open fridge door, letting the cool air wash over her face. It should have felt weird to have Josh in her apartment, just like she knew she should have been more mad than she was, but right now it seemed like up was down and down was up. Nothing made much sense. He sat on her couch, in those damned soft clothes, looking like he was meant to be there. That jolt in her skin when she grabbed his arm was the same jolt she felt in Ohio. There was something there, and she had to explore it. Josh looked back at her, likely wondering why she was just standing in front of the fridge, and she smiled at him. His answering smile took her breath away.

The food was set out across the coffee table when Y/N reached the couch again, and it was her normal order, down to the lack of cheese on the pasta. Josh smiled when Y/N handed him the beer, and she slid past him to sit on the couch in front of the setting he’d made for her. “How did you know what my order is?” Josh’s smile was sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Wait,” she interjected, “let me guess. Bo and Holly.” His answering smile and nod had her shaking her head. They ate silently, though Josh relaxed the longer he sat there without being thrown out. He finally leaned back against the cushions when he finished eating, his beer cradled in his right hand.

“Holly said you don’t hook up very often.” Josh spoke hesitantly, like he was afraid Y/N would change her mind about forgiving him. “Actually, she said never.”

Y/N took her time chewing her spaghetti, organizing her words. “I don’t do emotional detachment very well.” She met Josh’s questioning eyes with a half smile. “I get emotionally attached to people a little too quickly, especially ones I have sex with. I don’t do hookups because hookups lend themselves to emotional detachment and I just end up feeling like shit.” Josh reached over and gripped her thigh lightly, and when he squeezed Y/N was thrown back to Columbus and his hands all over her body. “That’s probably why Holly pushed so hard for you to come over here,” Y/N continued quickly, shaking off the memories. “She knew I was likely already attached to you and not taking the argument well.” 

She leaned back over her spaghetti, fighting the urge to look at Josh. It was pretty weird to admit to being attached to a one-time hookup, she knew that. It didn’t make her any less attached, though. Josh squeezed her thigh again, an attention-getter, and Y/N looked over at him questioningly. His eyes were soft, and an understanding had settled over his face. He was starting to get her, and that made Y/N feel damn good.

“I got pretty attached too.” He was? Josh ran his hand through his hair roughly, and Y/N lamented the loss of the weight on her leg. “I’m not used to being attached to a woman romantically like this, but I just can’t get you out of my head. It was easy for a while, until last night actually, but now that I see you again I need to keep you around.” His hand left Y/N’s thigh, and she lamented the loss momentarily. His hand quickly found a home where her neck met her shoulder, and Y/N stared into Josh’s eyes intently. “I want the whole damn thing with you, Y/N Y/L/N. The awkward dates, the good dates, the family meetings, the sex,” Y/N groaned at the last one, and Josh shot her a smile. “I fucked up royally, but I promise I will do everything in my power to make it up to you.” 

If he didn’t do anything else well, Josh was made for pretty speeches. Y/N found herself nodding quickly before she could change her mind, and Josh perked up. “Yeah?” She nodded again. “Yeah,” she whispered back.

______________________________________________________________

It took almost 2 months before they told the team they were dating. The Horvats suspected, because they were the only ones who knew about the argument, but everyone else just thought Y/N was accepting Josh into the fold much like she had every other member of the team. Y/N smiled to herself from her spot next to Holly, waiting in the hallway after the game. Gunnar was settled into Y/N’s arms, sleeping finally. He’d become colicky, and sometimes Y/N’s arms were the only ones he would relax in. Holly said she was a baby whisperer, but Y/N insisted it was because he could tell she was the cool aunt. 

Josh’s arms came around her from behind, settling on her hips as he rested his head on her shoulder to stare down at Gunnar. “You look good with a baby.” Josh’s words were whispered, but Holly clearly got the gist. She smirked, and raised a hand to high five her husband as he reached their group. 

Bo obliged, though he looked confused by both her enthusiasm and the way Y/N and Josh were standing.“They finally got together!” Bo’s confusion turned to one of mischief, and he turned around to holler at Thatcher. Y/N groaned, because she knew what was coming.

“Yo! Dems!” Thatcher turned away from his spot chatting up Jordie and Jessie to raise an eyebrow at Bo. “You owe me fifty bucks!” He pointed at Y/N and Josh, the latter of which raised a hand to wave at Thatcher. Thatcher’s face split as he barked out a laugh, and the team began to cheer. Bo turned back to the pair with a smile. “We’ve been taking bets on how long it would take for you two to get together. I had bet you already were, but hadn’t told anyone. Guess I was right.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she settled deeper into Josh’s chest. Of course they’d bet on it. Boys would be boys. Thatcher broke free from his conversation to make his way over, stopping in front of them with a glare Y/N could tell wasn’t that serious. “Hurt her, I kill you. I don’t care if you’re my teammate, that’s my family.” Josh nodded seriously, and Y/N rolled her eyes again. Boys. 

She handed Gunnar back to his parents with a smile and a goodbye. Josh gripped her hand as they walked to the parking lot, and Y/N squeezed back gently. “I’m really thankful I broke my no-athlete rule for you.” 

Josh didn’t speak for a minute, though he opened the car door for Y/N and waited as she settled into the seat. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “I’m really thankful you know so much random sports shit.”

[itsjackgilbert]

Situation Comedy

INSCRUTABLE MUSIC-VIDEO GENIUS MAKES MOVIE. IT'S VERY GOOD. INSCRUTABLE FILMMAKER DOES MAGAZINE INTERVIEW. IT'S VERY BIZARRE. A VERY SMALL GLIMPSE INTO THE INSULAR WORLD OF SPIKE JONZE, WHERE MAKING AWESOMELY STRANGE FILMS, WEARING FAKE PENISES, AND GETTING BEAT UP (SORT OF) ALL ARE PART OF THE SCENERY

BY ZEV BOROW

"He came to visit me once and when he first arrived I got a phone call that I had to come pick him up because his car had been impounded because he'd been chased by, like, ten cops on bikes after he drove his car onto these little fairgrounds and did a bunch of doughnuts. So, then I had to drive him around all weekend." — Three Kings director David O. Russell

"Actors are more consistent. They tend to land their tricks." — filmmaker Spike Jonze, on who is easier to direct, actors or skaters.

"He wanted his brother to be in Three Kings, so he shot an audition tape with his brother doing the Sharon Stone role in Basic Instinct, crossing and uncrossing his legs. It was the weirdest fucking thing I've ever seen." — David O. Russell

I meet Spike Jonze at the production offices of his new movie, Being John Malkovich, which is a bizarre comedy about a love triangle between three people who find a secret portal into John Malkovich's head behind a file cabinet in an office building where the ceilings are four feet high. John Cusack and Cameron Diaz and Catherine Keener are in it. So is John Malkovich. It's really good and weird and funny, though not always in that order. Spike Jonze directed it.

Jonze is 29 years old and sort of famous for directing some of the best music videos ever made: the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage"; Fatboy Slim's "Praise You"; Weezer's "Buddy Holly"; Björk's "It's Oh So Quiet"; and other really good ones, too. He's also made some excellent commercials and two interesting short films. However, mostly because of the exceedingly cool videos he's done for, mostly, exceedingly cool people, Jonze has also become famous for being exceedingly cool. A wide and deep selection of the hippest people alive dig Jonze. They are his friends. This past July Jonze married actress, filmmaker, and fellow sort-of-famous person Sofia Coppola. Tom Waits sang at their wedding. Tom fucking Waits.

Jonze is small and wiry, with the body and demeanor of a skateboarder, which he is. He is relaxed, unfailingly polite, and has a voice suggesting a 15-year-old boy. When we meet he is wearing a T-shirt and scuffed-up $350 Marc Jacobs shoes. He tells me he's supposed to meet with Knox, an as-yet-unknown guitar player, to discuss ideas for his video and invites me along. But first we go to buy a big bag of cat food for his cat.

Jonze says Knox plays "sort of country-funkabilly-Prince-like music...really beautiful stuff." A friend gave him a tape, he says, and he fell in love with it. We get lost trying to find Knox's house.

When we finally arrive, Knox says he was asleep because Jonze was supposed to arrive hours ago. Jonze says he's sorry, that it must have been his assistant's fault. Knox is tall, with short, dark hair styled vaguely pompadour-ish. His apartment is small. Neil Young in on the CD player. An acoustic guitar rests in the corner.

"I'm the only one in the band, so I do the whole gig," Knox says. "My old man was a guitarist and my mother was, like...well, she was a capable pianist, not great. I'm from Tenness–Knoxville–that's why I go by Knox. My mother ahd a baby two years before me, a little boy, and it died at birth, and I am, like, the copy of that kid. And my little brother almost died at birth 'cause of me, so it's kind of all cyclical. But I'm still tweaking it. So, uh, what kind of ideas do you have?"

Jonze talks about making a video that's not very commercial, about something that's cool in and of itself.

Knox: "I just don't want it to be cute. Don't take this as an affront, but some of your videos are...cute. The 'Buddy Holly' thing was little fucking cute. I was thinking more of an early John Cugar-type of thing. Like 'Jack and Diane.' Maybe with some of the words on the bottom of the screen."

Jonze: "Uh, cool.... But it’s also cool to do something maybe not as literal.” He asks Knox if he wants to be in the video. Knox says maybe just his face, as a child.

Jonze says he could come over with a video camera and they could try some stuff out.

Knox: “Like what?”

Jonze: “Well, I don’t want to just throw stuff out.”

Knox: “Well, I’m not going to steal your stuff.”

Jonze laughs, sort of. There is an awkward silence.

Jonze: “How about a video with Xeroxes, just as a cool medium?”

Knox: “Yeah, well, that sounds schticky. Xeroxes are schticky.”

Jonze tries to say something about form. Knox says he likes “the Jazzercize” video Jonze did.

Jonze: “‘Praise you.’ Cool.”

Knox turns toward me and says he doesn’t think Spike looks very into it. Jonze says he doesn’t want to do anything he’s done already. He asks Knox if he saw the video he did for Sean Lennon.

Knox: “Nah. That guy’s too fuckin’ avant garde for me.”

Jonze: “No, I’m not saying that. It’s just I don’t want to make something silly out of your song, but at the same time....” He trails off.

There’s a tense silence, then Knox turns to me and asks if I have any ideas for videos. I tell him I don’t. Knox says “fuck,” loudly.

Jonze: “Look, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, and if you don’t really like my stuff maybe we shouldn’t work together. I like working with people who are....”

Knox: “Yeah, well...fuck.... Well, if you come up with some ideas, any ideas, call, but I just...shit.”

Jonze: “I should go.”

Jonze gets up. Knox begins to pace. Then he screams, “Fuck!” and throws a small wooden chair Jonze had been sitting on against the wall. It shatters.

Jonze: “Dude, chill.”

Knox: “I think you better leave!”

Jonze: “I was just....”

Knox: “Just fucking leave!”

Then Knox pushes Jonze into a wall, hard. I think to myself: Spike Jonze is about to get his ass kicked. Then, like a panther (or jaguar), Jonze jumps at Knox. They hit the floor. Jonze is on top of Knox, throwing punches at his head. After about 15 seconds, I pull them apart. Knox gets up and screams, “Wait right fucking there!” and runs into a back room. Jonze looks at me and says, “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” and runs out the door, fast.

Knox jumps out from the back room, glowering and holding a baseball bat.

DRIVING AWAY, JONZE MUSES ABOUT HOW “HECTIC” things got with Knox. He repeatedly pushes his face toward the rearview mirror and asks if I think his eye looks swollen. It doesn’t. He says nothing like that has ever happened to him before, except once “with Everlast, but it never got physical.” We pull into a 7-Eleven and he gets a juice and some Advil.

I try to ask some more questions about the movie. “I’m apprehensive about talking about it at all,” he says, “because I feel like it’s going to cloud someone’s opinion. You think about all the movies you had preconceived notions about, about all the ones you read stuff about until you were sick of them before you even saw them.

SPIKE JONZE’S REAL NAME IS ADAM SPIEGEL. He isn’t interested in talking about why, or when, he started going by Spike Jonze, or how much it has to do with Spike Jones, the 1940s band leader, but it’s probably related to the fact he grew up hanging out with a lot of competitive BMX bikers similarly fond of pseudonyms and alter egos. He was raised in Bethesda, Maryland, a well-heeled suburb of Washington, D.C., where his mother enjoyed photography and his father enjoyed being the scion of an extremely successful family-owned catalog company. Jonze is the middle child (younger brother; older sister) and was into skateboarding, photography, lots of Dischord-era punk rock, and, most of all, BMX.

In the mid-’80s, BMXing’s popularity was exploding, and Jonze was spending much of his time at Rockville BMX, a legendary retail and mail-order BMX shop in nearby Rockville, Maryland. At age 15, he accompanied the Haro pro-BMX team on a summer tour of the U.S., serving as part-time roadie, contest announcer, T-shirt salesperson, and using an old 35-millimeter camera, team photographer. By the time he was 16, he was writing and taking pictures for skate and bike magazines. At 17, immediately after finishing high school, he moved to Torrance, California, to work at Freestylin’, the sport’s preeminent glossy. There, he met Mark Lewman and Andy Jenkins, two kindred spirits.

“We were all living together in this apartment across the street from the magazine’s offices, in the Valley, which was like the epicenter of the skateboarding and BMX world,” says Lewman, who was 18 at the time and is now a creative director at Lambesis, a San Diego–based advertising agency that deciphers youth culture. “We’d skate to work, ride ramps, listen to Black Flag and Eric B. and Rakim, and get into adventures drinking Night Train, being weird, and stomping around downtown L.A.”

They’d also make zines. First, in 1991, Homeboy, then, two years later, Dirt. Clever and funny, they became popular with the 25-and-under, proto-extreme-sport, punk/rap-inclined hipster set. During this time, Jonze also started getting hired to take photos for magazines such as Details and Interview. And he began filming skateboarding videos, including one particular deft collaboration with ‘80s skate god Mark Gonzales titled Blind Skateboard Video.

One night, backstage at a Sonic Youth concert, Gonzales gave a copy of that tape to his friend Kim Gordon, who dug it so much that she asked Tamra Davis–who had just directed her first film, Gun Crazy, and had yet to become the wife of Beastie Boy Mike D.–to work with Jonze on shooting some skateboarding segments for Sonic Youth’s video for the song “100%.” He was 21.

Jonze has always lived in something of a rarefied world inhabited by bikers, skaters, emerging rock icons, and movie stars. Even so, he notes, he first met the Beastie Boys through his sister. She and Adam Yauch met in traffic school. The Beasties and Jonze share an appreciation for the absurd. Yauch and Jonze used to do things like rent police uniforms so they could direct traffic in Manhattan.

A few short years after “100%,” Jonze was established as America’s preeminent director of unusual music videos. This fact seemed to bore him. In 1998′s Fatboy Slim “Praise You” video, the one with the dancers in front of Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, Jonze credited the direction to Richard Koufey and the Torrance Community Dancers. To this day, Jonze denies having been a part of it. Earlier this year, a typed letter arrived at the Spin offices vehemently demanding Spin retract its report that Jonze directed the video. It was signed Richard Koufey and included a detailed résumé for Koufey that stated he was a dancer in the “Thriller” video, the “Love Shack” video, the film Dirty Dancing, and something called “Dancextravaganza” at the opening of a Dellamo Fashion Center.

IN ADDITION TO BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, Jonze has another movie coming out, one in which he acts. It’s called Three Kings and was written and directed by David O’Russell. The two met when Jonze hired Russell to help him write a script for Harold and the Purple Crayon, which was to be a partially animated adaption of the children’s book, and Jonze’s feature-film debut, but never made it into production. Jonze costars in Three Kings with George Clooney, Ice Cube, and Mark Wahlberg. They play four U.S. soldiers who try to steal a secret cache of Kuwaiti gold at the end of the Gulf War. It’s a different, very sharp war-genre picture. Jonze plays a redneck private who is the sidekick of Wahlberg’s more seasoned soldier.

“I’d never really acted before,” Jonze says. “A few little things with friends, but nothing serious. And it’s not like I really want to get into acting. But David was really into me doing it, and Mark was especially supportive. In some ways I feel like I had no right to do it. But it was a lot of fun.”

Russell recalls Jonze’s commitment to the project. “He stayed in character a lot on set, and I think he eventually regretted it because Mark started beating the shit out of him as if Spike was really his tagalong sidekick. We tried telling Mark to go easy on him, but he was in character too. I think Spike was upset that that was happening.

AMONG THOSE IMMERSED IN THE CULT of Spike Jonze, the Weird Al prank is infamous. As partially recounted in an issue of the Beastie Boys’ zine, Grand Royal, Mike D. and Russell Simins, the drummer for Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, interviewed by Weird Al. During the interview, they got the conversation to come around to the Beatles. Precisely at that moment, they had Sean Lennon and Yoko Ono walk by and staged something weird and funny. No one at Grand Royal can remember exactly what happened, but it included Spike Jonze dressed up as a waiter.

I didn’t know of the Weird Al prank until weeks after meeting Jonze. As such, I spent a good portion of my evening immediately following the Knox vs. Jonze incident breathlessly telling friends all about their fight, until a friend, a longtime skater, looked at me and matter-of-factly said: “He staged it.”

Two days after the fight I go to meet Jonze for lunch, and, even though I’m not sure, I tell him I now that the afternoon with Knox was staged. Jonze demurs. “That would be gnarly” he says. “Maybe we should come back to this topic after lunch.

We pull into a Carl’s Jr. Things between us are slightly tense. I keep pressing him on the issue as we walk into the restaurant. Jonze doesn’t say anything until he’s just about to order at the counter, then he says we should walk outside. I follow him into the parking lot toward a parked black sedan. There is a guy in dark sunglasses sitting there, sipping on a Coke.

“Dude, it’s off,” Jonze says. “We’re busted.”

Jonze then reveals that he’d “planned something” for right there, right then, at the Carl’s Jr. We all had back inside the restaurant, where Jonze begins walking around the seating area and tapping on what appear to be lonely Carl’s Jr. diners on the shoulder. There are four of them, strategically placed; two have video cameras hidden on them, on has a regular camera. Two of them, including the guy from the car, who is Jeff Tremaine, the art director of the skateboarding magazine Big Brother, are wearing hidden microphones.

“This was going to be an all-out assault,” Tremaine says. “I was going to walk by and bump into Spike and my drink was going to fall all over me. And then I was going to get all jacked at Spike and knock some shit on him and get into a fight.”

“I was actually going to take a punch this time,” Jonze says, “but I was also going to bite down on some blood pellets.” He shows me two small capsules of fake blood. “I wanted the whole article to be about how I keep getting my ass kicked.”

“I was going to knock over the salad bar,” Tremaine says. “We were going to have the whole thing on tape. I twas going to be a turkey shoot, like Kennedy.”

“You are all extremely fucked up,” I tell them.

Jonze says he started planning for it late last night and tells everyone he’s sorry he didn’t go through with it. Tremaine tells Jonze that he was excited to punch him. Then, everyone tells me some stories of previous pranks, the best of which is described as simply the Hard-On One. It goes something like this:

The guy who played Knox yesterday–a friend of Jonze’s who also pulls stunts like getting himself hit by a car (for a Big Brother photo shoot) and shooting himself with a gun while wearing a bulletproof vest (for fun)–puts on a pair of flimsy gym shorts, out of which sticks a large, fake rubber penis. Then, he goes out and gets into a pickup basketball game. Next, he walks into a guitar store, where, when a salesman hands him a cord to plug in, the salesman is pulled toward the fake rubber penis. After that, he makes a quick stop at a karate studio, from which he is quickly removed. Finally, he goes to get measured for a tux, where, according to Jonze, the tailor exclaims [in a thick Indian accent], “What? You always run around with your dick sticking out?”

“It’s amazing,” Jonze says. “We’ve got the whole thing on tape.”

After Carl’s Jr., Spike lobbies me to concoct a wild, made-up story with him, one I could submit in lieu of the article. He’s got some funny, clever ideas for it, too.

“SPIKE DIDN’T GROW UP WATCHING A TON OF FILMS or even TV,” says Kim Gordon, who has known Spike ever since he worked on “100%.” “So he’s not tied to any sense of history image-wise, the way most people are. He just has a real instinctual feel for what people like. And he’s willing to try absolutely anything.”

“I think he kind of looks at everything like it’s a chance to take a golf cart and make it go 60 miles per hour,” says his old friend Lewman. “It’s always been about having a really good time.” Even so, by all accounts Jonze is meticulous, tireless even, whether it concerns a feature film, or taking down a Carl’s Jr. salad bar. His willingness to go to almost any lengths to maintain the integrity of any project–no matter how seemingly small, trivial, or twisted–is nothing short of spectacular. It is probably the one quality that best portends him making very good movies for a long time. A vast portion of Jonze’s creative energies are consumed by these tiny, hysterical performances that will never make any money, that are solely for the benefit of himself and his like-minded friends.

“But it’s not about being weird for weird’s sake,” Lewman says. “I mean, Malkovich is a movie that, at its heart, is about something everyone can relate to–desperately wanting to be someone else.... I think a lot of how [Jonze] looks at the world might come from skating and biking. You do that as a kid and you don’t look at things normally. You look at a hockey rink and see a place to skateboard. You look at a bench as a thing to do tricks off of.”

I SEE JONZE ONE MORE TIME. HE MAKES IT OBVIOUS he’d rather I not write about the Knox and Carl’s Jr. pranks. Further, he mostly turns off my tape recorder any time I start to ask him anything. He tells me he doesn’t know what to do because he doesn’t want to come off as a guy who is lucky enough to make cool movies with big stars but is all petulant about talking to the press. He tells me again how anything he says as far as explanation of his own work is less interesting than someone’s own interpretation of his, or any, movie. About an hour passes. I ask him to name some of his favorite movies and filmmakers.

“I like stuff that is unpredictable in terms of tone,” he says. “I like Tim Burton, The World According to Garp, Being There, all the Coen brothers’ stuff. I feel really lucky to even have the opportunity to try to make those kinds of movies.”

I ask about his movie, about what Malkovich was like.

“He’s just amazing. Really genuinely eccentric. He heard about the script and contacted us, loved the idea. It was weird because he plays himself in the movie, but it’s not really him, it’s the script’s idea of him. Whenever I see him do the Dance of Despair and Disillusionment, I’m like, this guy is my hero.”

The Dance of Despair and Disillusionment is reason alone to see Being John Malkovich. In the movie, John Cusack plays a puppeteer who enters the body of John Malkovich and forces him to give up acting for puppeteering. At one point, Malkovich acts out the dance he wants to be his ultimate master-puppeteer work, the Dance of Despair and Disillusionment. Just out of the shower, he acts it out in a towel. David Fincher, the director of Seven and Fight Club, fellow former music-video director, and close friend of Jonze, calls it “up there with Butch and Sundance jumping off the cliff, as far as greatest movie moments ever go.”

I try to get Jonze to talk about other things, videos, his commercial work. (Jonze often shoots commercials, the most recent being Lee Jeans’ “Buddy Lee” spots.) He won’t. A few days later, we talk on the phone. He asks how I’ve decided to “handle” the article, says he knows I’ll write “something good.” The next day, I call him back, ask him to clear up some factual stuff, dates he worked on things, how he first met certain people. He’s not into it. But, before we get off the phone, he does answer one question.

Me: Where did the idea for the “Sabotage” video come from?

Jonze: “Australia.”