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#idk if I’m giving too much energy or not enough
deityofhearts · 11 months
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I worry that I am both too much and too little at the same time
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m0llygunn · 7 months
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friends with b(aby)enefits (eddie munson x fem!reader)
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MONTH ONE: Just friends—what a silly concept. After your accident, Eddie's been a full-fledged comedian, ill-conceived jokes left and right... neither of you are laughing though when his 'comedy routine' comes back to bite the both of you in the ass.
cw: 18+!, mature language, smut, pinv sex (unprotected again smh), pet names, vomiting, a lot of pregnancy related topics, potentially dramatized pregnancy symptoms (for the plot obvi, also idk anything about pregnancy), mention of readers period, mention of birth control an: lots of minor time jumps/cuts but we get some eddie pov!!! wc: 8.3k+
0 / 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 00
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Arms wrapped around your waist from behind, both palms pressed flat to your belly.
“How are my girls doing today?”
Comically loud, heavily puckered kisses scattered over the top of your stomach, catching you by surprise— not at all expecting to be ambushed with facetious affection by your friend. 
Eddie thinks he’s a comedian. 
With about a month of his poor taste in jokes, he thinks he’s hilarious— and a self-proclaimed prophet because he 'just knows' that it's a baby girl. He's full of shit and you desperately try to not give him the benefit of finding his terrible jokes humorous. To your demise, from time to time, they get you.
His latest stunt was when he greeted you for your usual Friday get together. He swung the door open quick enough to stun you and immediately dropped to his knees. With a firm hold on your hips, he leaned in close to your belly, “Hi, baby girl. Did you miss daddy?” he cooed with big eyes and an even bigger smirk.
With a hand on his forehead, pushing him away, unfortunately you laughed, and unfortunately it feels like all of his jokes are coming back to bite the both of you in the ass. It’s hardly been 24 hours since the offending, but objectively funny joke, and neither of you are laughing now.
“Maybe you just ate something bad?” he offers with sheer, dumb, hope. “Or maybe it’s the flu?” he says, snapping his fingers together like he struck the gold mine of an idea.
Eddie can be as hopeful as he wants, but as you lower yourself down to the couch from vomiting your insides out in the bathroom, the panic in his eyes is evident.
“Maybe,” you reply dully, dropping your head to rest against the back of the couch. 
“Do you want to lay down? I can bring you to my bed?” he asks with concern lacing his words. 
“I’m—” you start, but with acid suddenly rising in your throat again, your eyes go wide and you jump from the couch with a renewed energy, just barely making it to the bathroom.
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To put it plainly, you vomited two more times after. When you finally felt like you were done throwing up, with an empty stomach and a sore body, Eddie helped you to his bed and you slept off your spell of nausea. When you woke up a few hours later feeling a touch better, both of you decided the best choice would be to buy a pregnancy test. 
“Just to be safe, right?” he had said, eyes burning into you as you laid sprawled across his bed, feeling no longer nauseous, but instead like an empty shell of a person. “We should buy one, right?” he asked again, eyes growing wider in your silence. 
It felt like even moving your sight line to look at him took too much energy, but you met his gaze, and he nodded his head like he had made his own silent conclusion. 
“We’ll go after, okay?” he said, continuing his one-sided conversation. Standing from the edge of the bed he wiped his palms down the front of his thighs before straightening out and rubbing his hand down from his mouth to his chin. He nods a second time, doing what you assume is him coming to another silent conclusion. “I’ll get you crackers?” he continued, eyebrows raised. 
With your eyes locked on him, you swallowed the dryness in your mouth. You hadn’t done anything notable, hadn’t even attempted to answer him, but his face softened, mouth turning into a regretful frown. 
“Sorry you’re sick,” he said, bending down to pat your head, letting his thumb trace gently across your temple. It was a tender movement and you absorbed the warmth of his contact, letting your eyes blink shut. “I’ll get you water too, okay? Water and crackers and we’ll see how you feel after that.”
Eddie’s a lot of things, but nurturing and soft, and with high levels of compassion is not exactly how you would describe him. He can be those things, but principally, he’s more of an asshole— but one that you love enough to keep around, obviously. But an asshole, nonetheless. The last time you had the flu he laughed at you and made fun of the way you threw up, albeit, it was when you both were in your teens, but regardless, he was a dickhead about it— and most recently, when you had gotten a cold, he ceaseless made fun of your constant sneezing and the blazing red tone of your sore nose from blowing it so much, calling you Rudolf and asking how ‘Big Red’ was doing at this time of the year. Asshole.
Dichotomously to the Eddie you’ve known all these years, he grazes the backside of his knuckles across your cheek, rubbing them back and forth gently. It's painfully obvious he doesn’t do this often from the way his hand jerks, finger nearly poking you in the eye, but you appreciate the notion. You know you must really look awful if he’s managed to compose this much compassion for you. 
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They say that nothing makes people more productive than the last minute. As the pharmacy's closing time approached, it was only then when either of you felt so inclined to even mention going to get the test.
After Eddie got you your water and crackers, you started feeling much better, and feeling much better meant it was easy to pretend like nothing had happened. You both unhealthily and aggressively ignored your potential futures by acting like it was any regular Saturday evening. You talked about your upcoming work week, and watched the usually shitty reruns on TV. Eddie made some freezer-burnt chicken nuggets, you warmed up some soup, and it was boring and uneventful, but it was the most comforting that boring and uneventful could be. 
The sun began to set and it was like the ticking of Wayne's alarm clock on the coffee table beside you only got louder and louder as time went on. 
“S’almost eight,” Eddie had eventually mumbled. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on the TV as you found this particular old rerun episode of Mama’s Family to be the most interesting thing in the world, which is odd considering you usually change the channel whenever it's on. 
With both of you sitting at the couch, feet kicked up, resting side by side on the coffee table, Eddie moves his foot far enough to just barely knock yours— an attempt to pull your attention away from the screen.
“The show’s almost done,” you say, turning your head towards him but keeping your eyes on the TV.
“The pharmacy closes at eight.”
“I feel fine,” you shrug.
Moving your feet from the tabletop, Eddie copies you, putting his feet down on the floor, but he goes a step further, sitting up from the couch. He stands, facing you, but you keep your eyes on the TV, ignoring him fivefold. He props his hand on his hip, arm bent at the elbow, one foot tap away from looking like someone's mother. You ignore him tenfold. 
“You want to stay here while I go?”
“Go where?”
“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” he laughs. You can hear the amusement in his voice. His hand drops from his hip and you look at him to see the smirk written across his face.
“Go where?” you double down. Huffing a laugh from his nose, he turns, opting to get himself ready, and begrudgingly, you do too. With your feet dragging through every step, you get in the car, and Eddie drives the two of you to the pharmacy. 
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Under the bright, white fluorescent lights of aisle number eight, you and Eddie stare your potential future down. An unnerving amount of tests sit on the shelf at eye level, some with cute little daisy packaging, others looking sterile and pharmaceutical. 
“Why are there so many options?” Eddie asks, picking one up and flipping it to read the back. You look at the price tags and your mouth nearly drops to the floor. 
“Why are they so expensive?” you ask, taking the box out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf.
“Hey,” he objects, reaching out for it. “That one says response in twenty minutes.” 
“That one is, like, twice as much as that one,” you argue, pointing to another test.
“Yeah,” he says, grabbing the test from the shelf. “That one says a two hour response,” he continues, pointing at the exaggerated font on the front of the test in his hand, waving it in your face. “I’d rather be shitting my pants for twenty minutes than two hours.”
He’s acting normal, braggart and teasing, you can’t muster that same energy. Your stomach swirls and squeezes and does everything it shouldn’t do. Nerves or nausea, you’re not sure. A ceiling light flickers two aisles over and you can’t stand being here.
“Maybe…” you pause. Your hands start to turn clammy. “Maybe we shouldn’t get any,” you say, shifting in place. You turn to fully face Eddie, looking at him as he has a boxed test pulled close to his face, reading the side of it. “Maybe we should just go home.” 
Eddie turns to you, brows furrowed. “No— what? You just spent the whole day throwing up, we gotta get something,” he says, looking at you like you’re insane. The ceiling light flickers again and you definitely feel insane. 
It wasn’t the whole day, it was just the morning, you nearly object until you realize it doesn’t help your case. 
Bringing your hand to your mouth, you chew on the edge of your nail, distracting yourself from the tremble in your limbs. From left to right and back again, you flutter your sight over the different options. There’s too many. Too many and it’s overwhelming. 
“Hey,” Eddie says softly. The weight of his arm settles around your shoulder, pulling you so that your bicep meets the edge of his chest in a half hug. “Don’t be nervous,” he continues, in a low coo. You step inwards, turning the half hug into a full hug. Taking a deep breath, all you can muster is a short nod of your head. 
His arm moves from your shoulder, hand grazing down to your mid back. Focusing your attention on his touch, you take another deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent. Smoky, woodsy, and a contradicting sweetness from whatever shampoo that was probably the cheapest and on sale.
“We’ll be fine, remember? You probably just ate something bad.” he says. He rubs his hand up between your shoulder blades and back down. You want to believe him, you really do. 
“I’m scared,” you say quietly.
“Why?” he asks, voice just as small as yours. 
“It… it doesn’t feel like I ate something bad.” You swallow down the jagged edges of emotion that your voice gets stuck on. His hand, mid rub, pauses and you pull away enough to see him. His eyes glaze over with something you’re unsure of before he quickly blinks it back. 
“Well…” he swallows. “What does it feel like then?” he asks, brows turned upwards. He's nervous, you’re nervous, and the light flickers again, reminding you where you are. 
“Can we go home? Please.” Your nerves become far too jittery and it’s starting to turn into nausea again. Your stomach lurches and Eddie watches you for another moment, eyes searching yours until he nods, patting your back before pulling away.
“Yeah. I’ll just buy this one and we can go.” He takes your hand in his, twenty-minute-test in the other, and he guides you to the front of the store. 
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“It’s almost nine now, so it’ll be ready at…”
“9:20,” you say when Eddie takes a concerning amount of time doing the math. The ride home was quiet. Being out of the fluorescence helped your nerves, and as you got further and further away from the pharmacy, and closer and closer to Eddie’s place, you started to feel normal again. 
“I knew that, I was just… thinking,” he responds. He sits up from where he was crouching in front of the dresser, using it as a table to put together the test. 
Decidedly, it was just nerves that had put you on edge, that’s it. The test is nothing but precautionary, just to rule out what could have made you sick. Eddie joins you, sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“Uh— before, we get a response,” he pauses, wringing his hands together. His eyes move down to his lap and your chest tightens. “I just want to say that whatever it is… I don’t regret what we did… and whatever it is, I’ll be there… for my girls.” 
He looks at you, his smirk widening by the second, and you can’t help the snort of laughter from escaping. Like every other ill-timed joke that he's pervasively told over the last month or so, he gets you, and you appreciate it this time as it lessens the gnawing feeling in your belly.
Despite the joke, when you really look at him, with his lips spread in a smile, his eyes swarm with the same trepidations that you feel. He’s a comedian but even the comedian is human. You try your hand at lightening the mood. 
“What if it’s not a girl?” you ask, playing along. He smiles, bumping his shoulder into yours as he huffs a breath from his nose. Shaking his head in an almost mirthful way you think you were successful until his demeanour drops into something serious. 
“What did you mean earlier?” he asks “When you said that it doesn’t feel like you ate something bad?”
“I just— I don't know. I just, I thought I had a feeling,” you explain. Eddie hums, eyes now set forward on the test. “I think I was just nervous, that’s all.” 
Twenty minutes has never felt longer. Eddie accepts your answer at face value but doesn’t do much to show it. He doesn't do much in general, and neither do you. At the ten minute mark, his hand found your knee. At the fifteen minute mark you were curled under his arm, resting your head on his chest as he rubbed up and down your arm. In the last minute, you had taken his hand in yours, playing with his fingers as you watched the seconds tick by on his Casio watch. 
21:19:59 turned to 21:20:00, and you turned to Eddie. Synchronously and in silence, you parted from each other. He stood and you sat. He moved to the dresser, and you held your breath. 
With his back facing you, you watch with unblinking eyes as he reaches for the instructions. Humming to himself, your lungs ache. You try to parse the meaning behind his tone, or vibration, or pitch — or anything that could give way to what he's seeing, but it’s far too vague. Taking a deep and vital breath, filling your choking lungs, you're just about to ask, mouth already open when he speaks.
“It says negative.”
“It says negative?” you parrot in disbelief.
“Negative.” Eddie firmly answers.
There’s no way. You should feel a weight lift from you, but, evident avoidance aside, that feeling is still there, stronger if anything.
“I…” you start, interrupting the loud beat of silence. “I’m not saying I want to be pregnant… but I think it’s wrong, Eddie.”
“Wrong? How could it be wrong?” he says, turning around to look at you. 
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Aren’t they, like, only guaranteed to work like 95% of the time?”
“That’s still a lot of the time,” he says, copying your shrug.
“Yeah… but—” you shake your head, stopping yourself. This is what you wanted right? Why would you fight against the answer that you mostly hoped for? That you were already certain about in the car barely an hour ago. “Whatever. It’s probably right. I think… I think I’m just… tired.”
Eddie nods, agreeing with you. He turns enough to set the test down, abandoning cleanup for another time— gross, but when he asks you if you’re going to sleep over, you willingly ignore the unsanitary act of leaving a used pregnancy test to sit and simmer bacteria growth. 
“You gonna sleep here?”
“Can I?’
“Of course,” he laughs.
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If it were a peaceful morning, you would have woken up to the warm, red tinted sun coming into Eddie’s room through the maroon coloured bed-sheet-turned-blinds. 
If it were a peaceful morning you would have woken up to shared warmth, his arm just barely tossed over your hip, hand resting in the dip of your waist. 
If it were a peaceful morning you would have been able to bask in the meaning of having him beside you— what it meant beyond just shared warmth, what it meant beyond friendship. 
If it were a peaceful morning, oh, if it were a peaceful morning…
If it were a peaceful morning, you wouldn’t have woken up to rising bile in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. It's not a peaceful morning, it's a race against time. With your hand cupped to your mouth, ripping yourself from the shared tangled sheets, tripping your way to the bathroom over the crap on the floor, time almost wins. 
You made it by a stroke of luck with not a second to spare.
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“It must be the flu,” you had croaked weakly. Eddie nodded, looking at you with tired eyes that had been startled awake by your fumbling and awful retching.
“Yeah, it’s definitely the flu.” It was not a whole hearted agreement, but there was no way any bad food would still be in your system. And with a negative pregnancy test, the flu is the only answer. Obviously.  
The next day, in the quietness of your apartment, you kept a preemptive bowl next to your bed, just in case.
Thank god you did because it was the worst it’s been yet, and with your temperamental luck, you would not have made it to the bathroom this time.
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“Hello?” Eddie answered from the other end of the telephone line. 
Your untouched breakfast sits on the table as you stand in front of your wall-hanging phone, leaning against the counter to stop yourself from keeling over entirely. 
“It's me.” 
“Oh, hey, didn’t think I’d hear from you so early, what's up?” His near chipper attitude is grating and if you could strangle someone through the phone you might have muscled up the last of your strength and considered it. 
“I’m still sick.” If you sound as awful as you feel, and equally as annoyed, it's because you are every terrible emotion in the dictionary. You are the essence of a bad mood, a side effect of how sick you’ve been.
“Shit—” he cursed. “I have work in thirty but I can stop by after?”
“Yeah, you already told me you were working,” you snark, because obviously he has work. It’s Monday.
“Do you want me to stop by after?
“I'm just telling you that I’m still sick.”
The call lulls and you can hear a slight rustle from the other end.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because you’re sick and I feel bad,” he says, voice turning up like he's asking you if that is an alright answer. It’s not, and you twirl the phone cord between your fingers, distracting yourself from scoffing and saying something you know you’ll regret. 
The call lulls for another moment and he clears his throat, coughing right into the receiver. 
“Uh— aside from being sick… everything else okay?” he asks tentatively, pausing too frequently that it annoys you, even more so than you already are.
“I’m fine, I just feel like garbage.”
“Nothing else bothering you? I have a minute, we can talk?”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You’re— and don’t bite my head off— but you’re not on your period?”
“Why would you ask that?” You meet his stupidity with a harsh and rightfully deserved defensiveness. “Don’t you think I would tell you if I was? You know, all things considered.” 
His voice raises as he comes to his own defence. “Well, I just thought… 'cause you thought that maybe there was a chance that the test was wrong, but then we agreed it wasn’t and…”
“And?”
“And you’re in a bad mood.”
You hang up the phone and when it rings again, you let it. 
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Eddie spent the whole day being eaten alive by his thoughts. You said you had a feeling, and Eddie knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t joke around about stuff like this. He would, he has, but you wouldn't.
Since the moment you told him that you weren’t on birth control, he had been thinking about it. Hypothetically, having a kid with you wouldn’t be the worst. He’d actually… like it… maybe? Would he say that to you? No, but it's not an awful thought.
Sure he made jokes out of it, but that was just his ill mannered way of accepting the fact that he kind of, maybe, potentially, would like having a kid with you… and being more than just friends. But he could never tell you that, so he made stupid, stupid jokes. 
But now that having a baby with you is less hypothetical, he’s fucking scared. Not because it’s with you, but because he might be having a fucking baby. That’s terrifying in and of itself. 
When you first started feeling sick, he let himself really believe for about an hour that maybe you had eaten something bad, but in his heart of hearts, he knew. There was no way. Four weeks and 3 days after he came inside you— not that he's keeping track of the days— and you’re suddenly experiencing ‘food poisoning’, even though you didn’t eat anything particularly abnormal or poison-like?
You’re pregnant. So fucking pregnant. There’s no way you’re not. 
“Hey, Bill. You have kids, right?” Eddie had asked as he sat down at the break table with one of his more favourable colleagues. 
Bill, more or less his mentor— or more eloquently put, the kind soul that's been helping him work his way up to being an actual mechanic and not just the guy who cleans and sweeps up after them like he’s been doing for the last year and a bit. He’s an older gentleman, doesn’t do much small talk, is in a permanent old man bad attitude, but he’s a good guy— reminds him of Wayne at times. Eddie trusts him enough, especially not to go talking about him around town. 
“Uh-huh. Grandkids too,” he answers, barely looking up from his newspaper. Eddie knew this of course, but he couldn't think of any other way to approach the topic. 
“Right, sorry,” Eddie apologizes, wringing his hands out of nervousness and dragging out the point of interrupting Bill’s lunch break.  
“You gonna be a father?” Bill asks bluntly.
Father? Eddie's familiar with a particular ‘F’ word, uses it way too fucking much in fact. Father, on the other hand, is an ‘f’ word that was barely in his vocabulary, he could go weeks without letting that word pass through his thoughts, let alone it being a descriptor of his very own character. 
Eddie’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open as his breath stutters like a kid getting caught red handed. “No.” he stumbles to answer. “Uh— maybe. I don’t know. We don’t know.”
“So what are you askin’?”
“Your girlfriend— uh, wife—”
“Wife,” Bill answers with an annoyed ring to it. 
“Right, your wife… What was she like when she got pregnant?” 
Bill shakes his head, ignoring the question. “Did she take a test? They have those now. Can buy ‘em at the store,” he gruffs.
“We did, but it was negative. She… she said they’re wrong sometimes though, and she thought that… she thought that maybe it was wrong?”
Bill sets down his newspaper, the edges of both his fists meeting the surface of the table top. He looks to Eddie, catching his flighty eye contact, giving him his full attention.
“Morning sickness?”
“She’s been sick the last couple of days.”
“Hormonal?”
“Hormonal?” Eddie asks, quirking a brow. Bill rolls his eyes, not unlike how Wayne has done time after time.
“Bad mood? Mood swings?”
“Kind of?”
“I won’t go into detail because I respect my wife,” Bill says, eyeing Eddie through slanted eyes. “Any changes that aren’t to do with her mood?” he asks, looking down the slope of his nose.
“Huh?” Eddie thinks hard, trying to decipher what Bill means. Bill gives Eddie an encouraging nod that quickly turns short-tempered.
“Her body? Any changes?” Bill grumps.
“Oh.” Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Uh— I don't know. She’s not really my girlfriend, we’re just friends.” 
“Just a friend you got pregnant?” Bill’s near-permanent-scowl breaks into a smile, lips turning at the corners in a sadistic way, eyes gleaming with taunting amusement. Eddie feels his palms start to sweat. 
“So you think she’s pregnant?”
“I think you’re up shits creek with a turd for a paddle, kid. Gettin’ a friend pregnant,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs to himself. He fixes his newspaper back upright, picking up where he left off in the classifieds. 
“Well, we’re good friends. I— she… we—” Eddie thinks about telling him that it’s you— Bill knows of you. Eddie’s talked about you enough, but he bites his tongue for the same reason that he didn’t go to Wayne about this— it would be all, ‘just ask her out’, ‘quit pussyfootin’ ‘round it,’ but he doesn’t get it, he can’t just ask you out. He—
“You like her more than a friend.” Bill says, making Eddie freeze. He opens his mouth to speak, to deny, to confirm, to anything, but nothing comes out. “Oh you got it bad, huh?” Bill continues with a teasing smile.
“C’mon, it’s not—” Eddie tries to object but Bill sees right through it. 
“You love her?”
“I…” Eddie swallows, thinking over his answer. “I don’t know…maybe?”
“Well, you got an interesting journey ahead of yous if she really is pregnant,” he laughs again.
And with that entirely unhelpful conversation, Eddie spent the rest of the day not only ruminating on you being pregnant, but now, his feelings for you as well. 
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After work he went straight home, showered, got redressed in sweats and the cleanest shirt he could find and beelined straight for your apartment. He made one quick stop at the pharmacy but quicker than even he anticipated, he was at your front door. 
He knocked, and then there you were, opening the door for him, not exactly smiling— but not looking angry either, or sick, which is a good start.
Greeting him with a quiet ‘hello’, you opened the door wider. He stepped into your apartment, and like he mentally rehearsed, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he could look at your reaction, he turned, hiding his face behind the curtain of his still damp hair, and kicked his shoes off. 
He’s just trying to get back on your good side. After this morning— your bad mood, and then him only making it worse by asking if you were on your period, which he knew you weren’t because you said that it's been weird since you stopped birth control but… yeah, he’s just trying to get on your good side, definitely not anything more than that. 
Clearing his throat and praying his cheeks aren’t as flushed as they feel, he tries to move on. “How’re you doing?” he asks. You spare him, and you don’t mention the kiss nor give him any weird reactions— which is good, right? You would tell him off if you didn’t want him to kiss you, right?
“I’m doing fine now,” you reply, turning to lead him to the kitchen. He follows behind, humming an acknowledgement. At your counter is a full, waiting dish that looks like and smells like spaghetti. You sit back in your seat, and he takes the one next to it, putting his brown shopping bag down in front of him. 
He watches you as you bring a forkful of your dinner to your mouth. “You’re eating, you must not be feeling sick anymore?”
“No, I stopped feeling sick around lunch and then I was starving,” you say through a second mouthful, swirling your third bite around the fork. 
“Nice,” he nods. Eddie’s not sure of much, not now, hardly ever, but you feeling better around lunch means you only felt sick in the morning, and you being sick in the mornings falls exactly under the conditions of morning sickness… and that means…
Swallowing down his thoughts in a thick gulp, he reaches for the pharmacy bag. “Well, I bought another test just in case,” he rushes out quickly, moving to take out the good part of his shopping haul to lessen the blow if the test somehow pisses you off. “—and I also bought you—”
“Liquorice! Oh my god and popcorn,” you say excitedly, interrupting him with the loud crinkles of you grabbing for the package of candy, quickly ripping it open. 
Eddie watches you closely, the way your eyes light up for some of your favourite foods. He was taking a risk, buying you snacks when he knew that you’ve been sick but it was that or flowers and flowers seemed a little too… forward?
Your reaction to the snacks though, it’s not abnormal, but it’s not exactly normal either… a bit too… ravenous? To be fair, you were sick and now you’re feeling better, maybe you are just extra hungry…. But then again, there's also your bad mood earlier and sure you felt like shit from being sick, but you were usually pretty happy whenever you talked to him. He wasn’t used to all of these… mood swings.
Symptom after symptom, his thoughts finally bubble out. “I think you should take the test again,” he says, interrupting you as you rip open the bag of popcorn. You pause and he holds his breath.
With a shrug, you resume your movements, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful. “But I feel fine?” you say, waving Eddie off.
“I think… maybe just in case?”
“Here, sit down, I’ll get you some spaghetti,” you ignore him, standing from your seat. “It’s so good, I swear. This is my second plate full.” You grab a dish from the cupboard, serving some up from a pot on the stove top without waiting for a reply from Eddie— not that he had one, he was too stunned by your unconcerned mood to think of one. 
Adding a slice of garlic bread to the side of the dish, you place it down in front of him, quickly moving back to your own seat to dig into the popcorn and finish your own meal. 
“You didn’t go to work today?” he asks after mumbling a polite thank you.
“No, I called in. When I got the promo, I got like six extra sick days, plus vacation time, so I figured I might as well use them,” you shrug indifferently.
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, taking a quick glance at you before looking back to his plate of food, moving his fork around the plate absentmindedly. “Do you happen to have… better insurance with your job now?” he asks, attempting to match your aloofness.
You pause your fork before shoving it in your mouth, opting to turn to look at Eddie. He purposely avoids your eye contact, continuing to swirl his fork in his food.
“Why?”
“Just curious,” he shrugs. “Whenever I get my promo—” he pauses. “—if I get the promo, Coop gives out some shitty insurance plan. Was just wondering what you were getting these days,” he continues nervously.
“I have insurance.”
“Good.”
“Why’s it good?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him.
“Is it not good? You get sick, you don’t have to pay as much— I think that’s objectively good.”
“Fine,” you relent. You stare at him for another moment, but when you finally go back to your food, Eddie lets out a long breath that he was holding in before going back to his food.
He finishes his plate while lost in a daze of thoughts. There’s no way you weren’t pregnant. Absolutely no way. He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, that’s for sure, but this is checking off every single box in his very limited knowledge of symptoms. 
He only withdrew from his head when he felt you staring at him yet again. You had pushed your plate back on the counter, head resting in the palms of your hands as you watched him intently with a particular glint of something in your eyes, something that he’s only seen two other times.
“Hi?” he says shyly, cheeks tingeing pink. 
“You kissed me on the cheek when you came in,” you state.
“Yeah, I did,” he nods, cheeks deepening to crimson under your close watch. 
“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask, stretching your leg out under the counter, running your foot along his shin.
Eddie chokes on his food before looking at you with wide eyes. Elbow bent to cover his mouth as he clears his throat from his sputtering, his eyebrows raise high, hiding under his bangs as he works through your suggestion. 
“Like stay the night or just stay the night?” he asks, eyes burning into you out of shock. 
“I just kept thinking about before… and, you know…” you say, shrugging, hooking your foot around his calf.
“So like, stay the night?” he asks, eyes glimpsing down at your outstretched leg. 
With a sly smile, you nod your head making Eddie’s eyes grow even wider.
“Are you sure?” 
“I’m really sure.” 
Eddie takes a final bite of his food before pushing back in his chair. You excitedly stand, taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to your room. 
Maybe it’s a stupid thing to do when you’re both still up in arms about being pregnant, but Eddie would be a fool to say no to you. He physically couldn’t, has never had it in him. It doesn’t help that he really likes you and might potentially love you. And after all, he’s just a simple man. 
────────────
“Harder.” 
Your desirous voice echoing off of wallpapered bedroom walls, airy moans embellishing every thrust, Eddie does his best to give you what you want. Round two and countless of your orgasms later, you’re still begging Eddie to keep going.
Round one was fantastic. Sincerely earth shattering and left him winded and full heartedly wishing he took up track in his freshman year instead of smoking cigarettes. 
The night started with you riding him, insisting that he laid back, and who was he to say no to that? He watched you intently, grasping at your hips with each rise and fall, feeling the way your body nearly trembled over his own as you made yourself feel better and better. He was completely enamoured by the way your mouth rounded into a perfect oval, the way your eyes welled as you rose up and down, enjoying yourself truly and utterly. Then, when he took over, you were begging, whimpering, and moaning for him. He swore he had never came that hard in his life. 
With the long day of worrying and his stress induced sleepless nights wearing on him, he was nearly nodding off when you were on him for round two. It was exciting— you needing him like this, and his cock was kicking up again before he could process it. 
You came again, adding another tally to the growing tab of how many times you’ve come tonight. This time, you were on your hands and knees, back in a deep arch as he watched the recoil of your ass with each of his thrusts. 
The only thing on his mind was you. How you felt so perfect around his cock, how pretty you sounded whining and begging for him to keep going, how beautiful you are, and how badly he just wanted to keep making you feel good, but then it was like a switch flipped in his head. 
He heard it once, how pregnant women would sometimes get really horny. Insatiably horny— and you just kept asking for more, begging for him to keep going. You were cumming and still managing to ask him to keep going. He had never had sex like this before.
His skin that had grown damp throughout the night, covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, now drew dry, just like his mouth. His thighs burned, his calves begged for a break, his balls were aching from staving off his own release, and now there was very little uncertainty in his mind that you weren’t pregnant. 
Mid thrust, you clench around him, stealing his already stolen breath, pulling from his meandering thoughts. He refocuses his gaze on the bounce and jiggle of your ass and the sweet noises singing from your lips before letting his palms slide down the slope of your arched back, giving himself better leverage to keep going. 
There's no doubt in his mind that he can finish this round. Not only would he feel like an asshole if he tapped out now, but he would also feel like the biggest idiot because this has been it for him. This is the orbiting thought in his mind, the exact scenario that he conjures up in his imagination during his alone time. 
Swallowing thickly and taking an open mouth breath, he moves a hand from your back to wrap around your torso, finding your clit with his finger tips. “One more. Gonna give you one more, pretty girl,” he rasps, voice horse and ragged from his near panting. Your back arches even deeper, hips pressing back into his as you let out a wavered moan. 
“Feels so good, Eddie. Love your cock, feels so good,” you cry, taking heavy, moaning breaths between words, your voice staggering with each of his thrusts that push you further up into the mattress. 
“Mhm, know you love it, baby. Sucking me right in, n' so wet for me," Eddie says through exasperated breaths, words coming out babbled from his focus on not cumming as your walls squeeze him harder and harder.
“Want you to cum inside me again,” you whimper out. Eddie doesn’t answer, he just thrusts harder, rolling his hips against your backside, making you moan louder and giving you the last of every ounce of energy he has left in him.
When he feels your pussy start to flutter, tensing, and pulsating around him again, he knows you're close.
“Gonna cum for me, baby?” he breathes, voice only getting lower and more ragged from the absolute marathon of a night.
“Gonna cum, Eddie.” Your voice rises so high in volume that Eddie's certain your neighbours can hear. 
“Cum for me baby, wanna feel you squeeze my cock one last time tonight,” he grunts, starting to feel delusional with the way his head spins. He grips his free hand on your hip, pressing his fingers into your skin and grounding himself to you, trying to push away some of the daze to think clearly. 
Eddie feels your tightness pulling him in almost immediately. He holds off his own release for as long as he can, bringing you through your orgasm until he can’t take it anymore. He pulls out just in time for his own release, sending his cum spurting over your lower back as his chest practically explodes, burning lungs having all the air expelled from them in a wheeze as he stutters through his orgasm. 
After taking a few, long moments to catch his breath, he reaches for the same towel he used earlier, wiping you clean before falling to your side feeling absolutely exhausted.
“Wanted you to cum inside,” you say pitifully, cuddling closer to him.
“Can’t, you're not on birth control, we didn’t have a condom.”
“You did it before,” you pout. 
“Yeah.” Eddie says, exhaling deeply. 
Yeah and now he's 99.9% sure you’re pregnant. 
“It’s late, got work tomorrow,” Eddie says, eyes unwillingly fluttering closed as you push your way closer to him, pressing your bare chest to his, speckling gentle kisses along his neck.
“Are you sure?” you ask, pressing another kiss to his skin. He barely has the energy to respond and you deflate against him with a sigh.
“Baby,” he coos, frowning when he looks at your lower lip jetting out in a pout. As much as he’d love to keep going, he physically could not go for another round. His cock might let him despite it feeling nearly raw from all the friction, but his aching body definitely would not. “Let me just hold you, okay? We can cuddle,” he offers to try to fix your frown. It only works the slightest bit, relaxing the crinkle in between your brows.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his hold. You let out a quiet whine at first, clearly upset, but you eventually relax into him, melding to his side. It’s not long before Eddie’s out cold, completely wiped clean of energy. 
────────────
You woke up, ripping yourself from Eddie’s grasp, hand over your mouth, rushing for the bathroom again. Eddie follows behind you, barely alert, but at your side, rubbing your back.
When you were certain everything inside your stomach was gone, you sat back, leaning against the edge of the tub.
“Think I should take that test.” 
“Yeah, I think so too.” 
────────────
With the anticipation of waiting another painstaking twenty minutes, you sit on the ledge of the tub in your bathroom, watching Eddie’s back as he tinkers with the test again. The tailbone pain from sitting on the ceramic edge is nothing compared to the swirling nausea growing from your nervousness.
He had sat with you for a few minutes like the last time, but got up halfway through to get you water. He dallyed in the kitchen for a few minutes, and it was far too casual for you, especially too casual for the dramatic dungeon master himself. It was almost unnerving. 
At the fifteen minute mark, he sat with you again, throwing an arm around your shoulder, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into him. If his casualness was him disguised his nervousness, he doesn’t let on. 
This time, at the twenty minute mark, his watch beeped the grating default Casio alarm, and with the chime of a button being pressed, he stands, turning his back to you as faces the vanity. You don’t follow him, you couldn’t at this point, you feel welded to the tub ledge. 
Unlike last time, he doesn’t look at the instructions. He doesn’t hum. He doesn’t make any noise, he just turns to you, his body blocking the test. You feel your heart rate pick up, but he doesn’t give anything away with facial expressions or body language. 
His mouth opens, he takes a breath, you hold yours once again. 
“Well…” he starts. “You were right.” His tone is flat and you blink, trying to clear your confusion.
“I was right?” 
“Yeah.” he shrugs. “About the last test being wrong.”
“No.” 
“Yup,” he affirms, putting a plosive pop at the end of the word. Too casual.
With your heart pounding in your chest, thumping miles in minutes, you couldn’t process this even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You deny it. 
“You’re lying,” you state, ending your words with a light huff of laughter. Surely, this is all a joke. Eddie’s a comedian, right? Ill-conceived jokes left and right over the last month, this has to be one of them.
He doesn’t smile. His eyes don’t light up. He doesn’t laugh. “Come look,” he says, beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. 
You sit up from the ledge of the tub, moving to stand next to Eddie at the counter. He pulls out the instructions, pointing to a diagram.
“If the liquid turns blue, that means pregnant."
You look at the test, not bothering to look where Eddie points. Blue liquid sits where any other colour should be.
“It’s blue,” you state.
“Pregnant.” 
Pregnant.
The moment is eerily still. In the movies this is where the happy couples jump with excitement. In TV shows, they call family and let them know their good news. In commercials, they celebrate. They hug, they smile, they cry happy tears together. 
Eddie’s your best friend, but you’re not a couple, this wasn’t planned. So you both stand in silence, staring at the positive test.
“What do we do?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“We could go get something to eat? I can call out and we can rent a movie or something?”
“Something to eat?” you laugh. It’s positive and he’s thinking about eating?
“Yeah, you should try to eat something,” he shrugs, turning to look at you. 
“Eddie. I’m—” Pregnant, you go to say but the word dies on your tongue. “Why are you not freaking out?” you say, staring at him with wide eyes trying to understand how he’s not affected at all by this. You’ve known Eddie a long time and he’s not exactly the calm and collected type. 
“Well…” he shrugs. “When you said that you thought the first one was wrong, I trusted you more than the test. Believe me, I’ve been freaking out, but now… it’s, kind of, settled in already, I guess.”
“Settled in?” you say, jaw dropping in shock. It’s your body, you were mostly certain you were pregnant— in denial at times, yes, but you knew, yet having it confirmed is still shell-shocking. How has it already ‘settled in’ for him?
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “If you want to keep it, I’m happy. If not, I’ll support you.”
“Happy?” you say, bewildered. 
“Well… yeah. We’ve... we've been friends forever. A kid that’s part you and part me? That’s fucking awesome, how could I not be happy, y’know?” he says, moving backwards to sit on the ledge of the tub. He leans forward with his hands on his knees, watching you with eyes that are too calm. Too, too, too calm about this. 
In your quiet mental chaos, you take a final look at the blue liquid before moving to sit next to him. Your skin prickles with cold shivers but you feel hot all over, like there's a flame of nerves in your belly and a hot air balloon in your chest making each breath feel laboured. 
“I’m…” you stumble over your words. “I— pregnancy is so— Eddie,” you breathe out. Your eyes inevitably start to water.  
“Pregnancy is so Eddie?” he laughs before turning towards you, noticing your eyes turning glossy. His face drops immediately, features turning soft as his brows turning up in concern. “Hey,” he hushes. “It’s okay. We’ll be fine, remember? Everything will be fine,” he assures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder again, bringing you closer to him in a hug. 
“I know, I just—” you force a breath in your lungs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“You can cry, it's okay,” he says quietly, and unfortunately, each of his nearly-whistled, whispered consonants pulls out a wave of fresh tears from you. His hand rubs over your shoulder and your cheeks only grow damper. “It’s okay to cry,” he repeats and you press your face to the cotton of his shirt. He pulls you in tighter, rubbing your back in long, steady strokes. 
Eddie’s seen you cry more than a handful of times— more than several handfuls of times, but this is substantial— it just feels different. Different because you’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby. A baby with Eddie. Your best friend Eddie. Eddie, who you’ve had sex with three times. Eddie, who you’ve known forever, who you’ve spent day after day with, as a friend. Friends. You’re pregnant. Holy shit. 
Your mind races and you divert your thoughts before you stray down that road. “It’s gonna be half you and half me,” you say, mostly to yourself, repeating his earlier sentiment. 
“Half you, half me,” he echoes. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and yeah, this is different— different because Eddie doesn’t kiss you on the top of your head. He doesn’t give you kisses on the cheek either. Eddie’s given you noogies, he’s butted foreheads with you, even flicked you on numerous occasions, all particularly during your shared middle school years, but kisses? Kisses are unheard off. What you guys have been doing lately is unheard of. 
“We had sex and now we’re having a baby,” you state plainly, trying to bring any coherency to the situation, desperately needed to hear the unheard of.
“We did and now we are,” Eddie laughs. 
“You came inside me and now there’s a baby in there,” you continue, hearing every syllable of your own voice.
“That’s—” Eddie laughs quietly again. “Yeah, that’s how it works.” 
“I had morning sickness.”
“Yes you did. And mood swings.”
Pause.
“No I didn’t!” you gasp, pulling back from Eddie to look at him with a scowl. 
“You kind of did,” he smiles, dimples set deep in his grin.
“No, I didn’t.”
“You were also insatiably horny. I was getting leg cramps all night because of you,” he says, bopping your nose, making you scrunch it. Asshole.
“I was not ‘insatiably horny,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“Well… if it’s any consolation, if you wanted to have sex again, I could cum in you now, ‘cause you can’t get any more pregnant than you already are,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, purposefully batting his lashes, playing up a faux coyness just to get a rise out of you. Such an asshole.
You respond by hitting him in the stomach, followed by pushing him until he almost falls into the tub, grabbing onto the shower curtain to stop himself. 
“Hey— hey, you were the one asking for it!” he defends, corners of his lips turned up in an untimely smirk. 
“I’m never having sex again,” you shriek, burying your face in your hands. 
“Well, let’s not make drastic choices right now,” he says amusedly, bringing you back in for a hug.
“I’m serious. Never again. Not with you, not with anybody. Ever.” 
“Let’s just get some fresh air, maybe we’ll start thinking straight about this,” he laughs, pulling you to stand up and guiding you out of the bathroom.
Pregnant.
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tags: @princesatracionera @venuslayla23-blog @mastermindmiko @tlclick73 @yujyujj @josephquinnsfreckles @uselessnewt @animechick555 @prestinalove @sluggzillaa @daisyridleyss (if you want to be tagged for the next part I kindly ask that you please reblog!)
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thank you for reading! <3
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corroded-hellfire · 1 month
Note
Idk if you're taking requests but I got an idea for the As You Wish AU!
I used to babysit for this couple who were complete metalheads and they had a 6 month old. Whenever I couldn't make her stop crying and put her down for a nap, I played "Crazy Train" and she immediately stopped crying when Ozzy screamed "ALL ABOARD!". She would jump in my arms for a bit, then be out like a light before the song was even over.
I can totally see that with Eddie and Eliza ❤
I’m pretty sure this is Eddie’s proudest moment as a father
Words: 1k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Oh, thank God.”
You heave a sigh of relief and let your bag fall to the floor next to your feet. The hours long car ride home from your weekend with your sister not only exhausted you, but it made your muscles stiff and sore. Your neck has the most knots in it, so you roll it out as you walk further into the house, deciding you’ll pick up your bag later.
“Perfect, you’re home!”
Eddie darts down the hallway, a grin on his face, and Eliza in his arms.
“Hi.”
You can’t help but smile at the sight of their faces. Two pairs of dark chocolate eyes and the same shade of messy curls.
Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to your lips before he holds Eliza close enough to your face so you can pepper kisses along her cheeks.
“I missed you both,” you say. “Where are my boys?”
“Luke’s in the shower and Ryan went with Wayne to bring home ice cream for everyone,” Eddie tells you. “How was your weekend with Gin?”
“Good,” you say, reaching out and running a finger down the side of your six-month-old’s face. “Nice to be home, though. How was Liza without me overnight? Cause I was quite cranky without her.”
“She missed you,” Eddie says. He puts his left hand on her tummy and his wedding ring glints in the lamp light as he rubs over her fuzzy pajamas. “Took longer than usual for her to fall asleep. But I taught her a trick!”
The excitement in Eddie’s eyes makes you laugh and shake your head in amusement.
“She's not a dog,” you say.
“Tell that to Luke.”
“Is he still using little pieces of banana to try and get her to crawl?” you ask with a mix between a chuckle and a sigh.
“This is what we get for not letting him adopt a pet, I guess. But, come on!”
Eddie turns and shuffles back down the hall toward Eliza’s room, far too much energy in his step for your exhausted body. You trail behind him, but he passes by the pink princess nursery and takes your daughter into your room. He stays standing near your dresser, but you pass by to go and take a seat on the bed.
“Ah! Before you sit down, can you hit play on the stereo?” Eddie asks.
You furrow your brow as you pivot in the direction of the stereo tucked in the corner.
“Did you find a new bedtime song for her?” you ask.
“Oh yeah,” Eddie answers with a laugh. “Worked like a charm last night. I’m hoping it was more than a one-time thing because it was perfect.”
“Uh huh,” you hum as your finger hovers over the play button. It makes a soft clicking sound as you press it, then you turn around and give your full attention to Eliza in her father’s arms.
Ozzy’s maniacal laugh bursts forth from the speakers and you restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. It doesn’t surprise you in the least that your husband attempted to use Crazy Train as a lullaby when left alone with her.
To your surprise though, Eliza quickly becomes alert when she hears that laughter. Her back straightens and her neck is craned towards the stereo, as if she’s waiting for more.
“Awwh abwooooah!”
Eliza’s baby babbling may not have made quite the same sounds as Ozzy’s “All Aboard” call, but she had the tune and timing of it down pat.
Buh dun. Buh dun, buh dun, buh dun.
As the bass leads into the guitar, Eliza begins to thrash around in Eddie’s arms. She jumps and bounces as the song’s intro blends into the chorus. Eddie’s watching her with a proud and entertained grin on his face. His hold on her is secure, which is a good thing with all the bopping around she’s doing.
Eddie looks from her to you, and the two of you share an amused look. Eliza’s small head begins to shake back and forth, the short spiral curls whipping back and forth as she does. It’s the best headbanging attempt you’ve ever seen from a six-month-old.
About halfway through the song, Eliza’s movements begin to slow. Instead of full out throttling in her dad’s arms, she’s just weaving from side to side now. You can see as sleep catches her in its grip, her eyes becoming heavy and her moves turning into slow motion. By the time the song is playing its final notes, Eliza has her head smushed up against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes closed and small pink lips parted just slightly.
Once the song ends, you press the stop button so the next track doesn’t start. With a soft chuckle, you walk towards your husband and daughter.
“I’m impressed,” you admit.
“I finally have a heavy metal child,” Eddie says, which makes you chuckle again.
“She’s only six months, babe. Still plenty of time for me to turn her into a pop princess.”
“Don’t you threaten me,” Eddie says, narrowing his eyes at you.
You press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and straighten the back of Eliza’s purple onesie that got twisted from all her moving about. Eddie gives a gentle kiss to the top of Eliza’s curls before heading to her room a few doors down. The sound of the shower running echoes through the hall as you follow Eddie into the nursery.
Slowly, Eddie lowers the baby into her crib, while you turn on her nightlight that’s shaped like a princess crown.
“Sleep tight, Ozzliza,” Eddie whispers.
You turn to your husband with an affronted face. As annoyed as the nickname makes you, it’s impossible not to laugh as you scold him.
“Never call our daughter that again, please.”
Eddie smirks and throws his arm over your shoulders as he leads you both to the door.
“As long as you never leave me again for a whole weekend,” he says.
“Deal.” You slip your arm around his small waist as you step into the hallway. “I can’t sleep without you, anyway.”
“Well, guess you’ll just have to sleep with me tonight.”
The double entendre is clear and, somehow, you don’t feel quite as exhausted as you did a few minutes ago.
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twistersobsessed · 27 days
Note
hi love! i love your writing so so much! especially your scott works. i’ve literally been obsessed with him since the movie came out
i was wondering if you could maybe write something like scott and reader are in an relationship and she’s super sensitive while he’s super mean.
one day he’s just in a bad mood (idk maybe he couldn’t get good enough data on a storm) and he’s kinda taking it out on her and it ends up really hurting her feelings so he has to make it up her
<333
Bad Moods & Sensitivity | Scott x Reader
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A/N: Ahh thank you bestie! I’m so obsessed with Scott too 😭
Scott was in an absolutely foul mood. You had no idea why. When you came up to him at breakfast and wrapped your arms around him, he’d shrugged you off. It hurt your feelings but you decided to respect him and give him some space. Scott’s bad mood was affecting your mood though, it killed you that you couldn’t love on your boyfriend.
Storm Par was stopped at a gas station, and of course, Tyler Owens and his crew were stopped at the same one. Scott and Javi were talking by the truck, and since Scott wasn’t paying you any attention, you made your way towards the gas station’s convenience store.
“(Name)!” You turned to see who was calling you to find Tyler, standing by his truck with Boone, waving you over. You smiled and made your way to them. “Hey guys.” You’d always been friendly to Tyler and his people but you didn’t often get called over to talk to them. “What’s up?”
“You look sad,” Tyler frowned. “Everything okay with you and Clipboard?”
Clipboard. Tyler’s name for Scott. Your face fell.
“Aw, I take that as a no?” Boone chimed in.
You shook your head. “It’s nothing really, he’s just in a really bad mood today. Shrugged me off this morning and hasn’t talked to me since.”
Boone gave Scott a dirty look while Tyler hummed. “You’re too pretty to deal with that attitude,” Tyler said.
You shrugged. “He’s not usually like this.”
“Really?” Boone raised an eyebrow.
You understood why they didn’t like Scott, but you also weren’t going to stand there and listen to them talk badly about your boyfriend. “I’m uh, gonna go get a snack. See you guys out there!” You politely excused yourself. They bid you goodbye and you entered the store, oblivious to the angry set of eyes on you.
Inside, you bought yourself an energy drink, and you bought Scott a pack of his favorite gum, hoping to cheer him up a little bit. You paid and left, striding towards Scott and Javi. Javi smiled brightly at you, but Scott didn’t even look at you.
“Babe, I got you your gum,” you said softly, holding out the pack. Scott turned to you and you were taken aback by the anger in his eyes. “Go give it to the hillbillies,” he spat. Your face crumpled. “What?”
“Since you like flirting with the competition so much.” Scott’s voice dripped with venom.
“Scott…”
“Shut up, (Name), I’m having a shitty ass day already and then you go and get all friendly with Owens and his little sidekick, I don’t want to hear it.”
Tears begin to pour down your cheeks. You hadn’t even felt them well up. Scott’s face softened. Javi pulled you into a hug, glaring at Scott. “That was so unnecessary,” he told him as he held you. “I think you should walk away for a bit.”
Scott bit his tongue and did as Javi said. Javi soothed you until you calmed down. You threw the gum in the trash.
For the rest of the day, you clung to Javi’s side and avoided Scott. That night, you made sure Javi booked you your own motel room; you didn’t feel like sharing with Scott. You sat alone on the bed, knees tucked up against your chest. It was quiet and lonely without Scott but you’d be damned if you sought him out.
A knock shook you out of your stupor. You sniffed, and slid off the bed, creeping over to the door and looking through the peephole. “Go away, Scott,” you said irritably when you saw who it was. “Baby,” his voice was pleading. “Please. I’m so fucking sorry. Let me in.”
You sighed, but opened the door a crack to make eye contact with him.
Scott’s heart hurt when he saw how tired and sad you looked. He wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and take you into his arms, but he respected your space.
“What do you want?” Your voice was flat.
“Can I come in?”
You considered it for a moment before nodding slightly and opening the door all the way to allow Scott inside. You stepped away from Scott as he stepped towards you. He shut the door behind him, then to your surprise, dropped to his knees.
“My behavior today, and what I said… unacceptable. I am so, so sorry. It doesn’t matter that I was in a mood or that I was jealous, it’s not an excuse. It never should have happened. I’m sorry I brushed you off at breakfast, I’m sorry I ignored you all day, and I’m really fucking sorry for what I said at the gas station. You know I don’t like how Tyler looks at you.”
You swallowed, considering his apology. “I don’t know, Scott,” you sighed.
He suddenly looked fearful. “Do you want to break up?”
The question hung heavy in the air. If you had more respect for yourself, maybe you’d have left him for how he treated you today. But a deeper, more sensitive part of you, couldn’t bear to throw away an entire year together for one really bad day.
“No,” you finally responded, and Scott’s shoulders sagged in relief. “But… I don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, that was really fucking unfair.”
Scott reached out towards you and you reluctantly took his hands. He pulled you into him. Even kneeling, he was so tall that his head was level with your chest. He looked up at you with reverence in his bright blue eyes, his hands caressing your waist.
“I love you so much, (Name). I will never let a bad mood be an excuse to treat you like that ever again.”
He paused. “And I’ll eat you out as soon as you can stand to look at my face again.”
Scott gave phenomenal head.
You blushed. It made you giggle a little and Scott smiled hopefully. You looked at him for a minute before smiling back. “Okay.”
Scott’s face lit up. He stood from his knees and picked you up instead, your legs wrapping around his hips. Scott pressed his lips to yours gently but eagerly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured against your mouth.
“You better.”
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finelinevogue · 1 year
Text
friends before fans
summary - you were harry’s girlfriend and now you’re just friends, but the fans still dislike you
word count: -1.5k
pairing: ex-boyfriend!harry x reader
a/n: some mentions of therapy, rehab and mental health issues. idk wtf this is but let me know if you enjoy!!!!
Being Harry Styles ex-girlfriend was hard.
Dating Harry was easy, but the aftermath of breaking up with him was devastating.
It was scary how quickly fans could turn on you. Harry has such a huge following, but you never thought you’d go through what you’ve gone through.
Times had been so tough over the past few years, after the breakup, to the point where you weren’t scared at the thought of dying.
Just because you’d broken up with Harry though, never meant that you’d fallen out of love.
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The newspaper headlines were the first to attack you.
Harry is so famous that the headline made the front page. Especially when you and Harry had been crowned as the most loved celebrity couple out there.
They didn’t know the truth though.
You were called toxic. Crazy. Manipulative and psychotic.
You would just call yourself depressed.
The year 2021 had not been a good year mentally for you and it constantly felt like you were dragging Harry down with you.
“Babe, it’s time to go meet our friends.” Harry said from the other room.
You were still laying in bed, unbothered to move because you just didn’t have the mental energy.
“Babe?” Harry called after no response from you.
“Y/N? We need to go now.”
“I can’t.” You said softly, no energy to speak louder.
You could hear Harry sigh loudly. Loud enough for you to know you’d upset him, but quiet enough to know he wasn’t going to argue with you.
He just quietly left instead, leaving you in bed with nothing but dark thoughts.
You could see how miserable you were making him, because of how miserable you were yourself. It only took one conversation to change everything.
“I think I need some space.” You told Harry, just quietly on the sofa next to him.
“Space?” Harry questioned.
“I n-need… I-I…. I want to go to therapy, H. I am scared I might do something stupid a-and I feel so sad all the time.” You started to sob.
“Baby… I.. I never never knew you felt this way.” Harry brought you over to him and sat you comfortably on his lap. He was crying too, ashamed he had not seen the signs of you feeling this bad.
“For a while now. I-I’m so sorry.”
“No apologies, baby. None at all. I love you so much and I will always love you so much. Let’s just get you loving yourself first, yeah?”
Harry had helped you find a rehabilitation centre for mental recovery and you were there for at least six months.
He was constantly there for you throughout the rehab process. He never once skipped the chance to visit you on visiting days. He paid for the entire process, even though you had been strongly against that.
Harry constantly reminded you how much you are loved, especially by him.
It took a while, but you finally got to a place where you could love yourself and life again.
When you left rehab, you realised just how bad things were in the social media world.
The moment your relationship was publicly announced as over, you were turned into a villain.
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You had stopped the relationship with Harry, solely because you couldn’t give him everything he deserved.
No matter, Harry waited for you. Still is.
You weren’t a celebrity. Instead, you were a good home friend of Harry’s. Your fame came from being attached to Harry.
Now your fame was for the wrong reasons.
You never cared about fame anyways, but the constant hate and abuse is tough.
Harry is still always there for you, though.
There was an endless stream of hate on Twitter towards you.
Even still 3 years on.
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A simple post on Instagram and everyone on social media would attack you. For being there. For existing.
Everything changed a while ago now.
Harry had texted you a couple of weeks back, out of the blue.
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Your hands were slightly sweaty as you walked through backstage to find the friends and family room.
Harry had secured you special tickets for all four Wembley dates, but you could only hope yourself to attend this last one.
You hadn’t seen Harry for months, still just friends.
Or exes. Depending from which angle you’re looking at it from.
You came today because you wanted to show your support for Harry, especially after the last few years you’ve put him through.
Holding the flowers in your none shaking hand, you entered the friends and family room.
It had been very long since you’d seen everyone. You found it difficult to see Harry’s family without Harry.
Luckily, Harry was in the room.
Dressed in comfortable clothes, he was a few hours before getting ready for night 4 at Wembley.
You stood to the back of the room, out of the way, since you didn’t feel secure enough to meet anyone. You often felt like, even though Harry always vouched for you, that his family still disliked you for putting their Harry through so much heartbreak.
What no one seemed to understand, though, was that Harry would endure that heartbreak all over again if it meant you could get help and become stronger again.
When Harry’s aunty turned around she spotted you. Either she didn’t realise it was you or was just looking into the distance, but because you thought she was glaring at you it made you feel super insecure.
Twitter was already trending your name because fans had spotted you outside the venue. Everyone was begging you to stay away from Harry.
Now his aunty looked like she meant the same thing.
You left the flowers on the table, that came with a card so he’d know who they’re off, and exited the room.
As you walked down the corridor, a security guard and must be fan stopped you.
“Are you Y/N L/N?” She asked.
“Yeah?”
“Wow. You have some unbelievable nerve being here.” Her words took you aback.
“I’m sorry?”
“Yeah too fucking right.” She scoffed and walked wherever she was meant to be.
You stood in the corridor and thought over what she’d just said to you. There has been no need to be so aggressive. She didn’t know anything about you or your situation. She can’t hurt you when she doesn’t understand the truth.
You were trying to repeat everything your therapist had taught you, but it was difficult with so many thoughts running through your mind.
Temporarily squeezing your eyes, you tried to press the negative thoughts away.
“Breathe.”
Your eyes shot open to see Harry in front of you.
It was amazing how Harry always seemed to meet you at the right place and at the right time whenever you needed him. It was never that you needed anybody. You needed him.
“It’s okay. I’m here.” Harry said, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and softly stroke your cheek.
“You’re here.” You repeated to yourself.
“You’re alright, Y/N. We’re okay.”
Harry leaned into you and pressed a kiss to your forehead softly. You smiled at the familiar feeling.
“Hi.” You smiled shyly.
“Hello, you.”
“I arrived a little bit ago, but I got overwhelmed in that room.” You explained yourself.
“It’s okay. Mum saw you and said you looked sheepish. Came here as soon as she said. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Just don’t know whether I’m supposed to be here. People know i’m here and it’s… they’re not happy. I don’t want to cause any drama and—”
“Y/N, love, you’re not. They are causing the drama. I want you here. I’m okay with you being here. I am happy you’re here. That’s all that matters.”
Harry moved to hug you and you squeeze him back just as hard. His hugs always make you feel safe. He smells as warm and comforting as he feels.
“Please don’t leave.” He whispered against your face.
“I’m not. Just need you with me for a bit.”
“I’m more than okay with that.”
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During the show, Harry made a speech about you.
He was fed up with the negative press and the hate you get. It was time to say something.
“My ex-girlfriend is here tonight! She’s my favourite person. I hope you love her as much as I do. All m’songs are written about her too. I thought we’d try an oldie for tonight, so I can dedicate to my person. I hope you’ll all join in with me and sing out if you know the words. This is Sunflower.”
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multi-fandom-imagine · 9 months
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Hey pookie I think my ask got eaten by tumblr but I saw one of your posts saying you write for the umbrella academy and I am lowkey desperate for Klaus fics 😭 (I found out he was canonically pansexual and genderfluid and lowkey giggled)
Maybe smutty headcannons/short drabbles for Klaus x Reader ?? All I can say is that man fucking RADIATES switch energy. Also I’m good with fem or masc pov I don’t Gaf❤️❤️❤️❤️
He’s probably also one kinky motherfucker too (cough cough hazel and chacha torture scene) and I can totally see him being a masochist idk
A/n: I am so sorry! Tumblr fucks my shit up so much and if this sucks too I apologize. I have not watched the newest season of Umbrella Academy.
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🔥: When you bite his neck during sex, please bite his neck during sex. He will 100% lose it if you are riding him and when you give him little nips across his skin the man know's that you're eager for sex just like he would be, you can always feel his hardon pressing into you when you bite his neck.
🔥: Loooves it when you run your nails down his chest, even better if you do it hard enough to leave a mark. Boy does he love just showing off your little marks, Klaus can't help but proudly show everyone, he know's their jealous but I mean how can he blame them, have you've seen yourself?
🔥: Tie him up! Please! Please time him up. You take control and he will be a whimpering mess for you. Klaus loves to groan out your name, to moan out your name when you're jerking him off. He's a weeping mess when you use one of your vibrators on the tip of his cock.
🔥: Will 100% switch if you want him too, lightly chocking you. Lot's of orgasm denials, too much for play. Your mind is in a haze, lost count in all the orgasm's you've had thanks to Klaus.
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babydollmarauders · 3 months
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GOODBYE — JOHN MARINO
part of the Maraschino Cherry! AU
y/nmercer
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y/nmercer new jersey, you made dreams come true. you gave me a few last years of living with my best friend, and you brought me my prince charming of a fiancé. i can’t thank this city and this team enough. i truly don’t have the words to describe how grateful i am for everything that jersey has meant to me, but it’s time for the next adventure. utah, i’ll see you soon…. please don’t take away my margaritas 🩵
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john.marino97 as taylor swift once said “everything you lose is a step you take.” just think of this loss as the first step in our personal journey, shortcake. this is the first in a long line of things we have to do on our own, and i’m so glad to have you by my side.
y/nmercer when he listens to and understands taylor swift 😩🤭 I’M GONNA PROPOSE
john.marino97 i think i already did that? what do you think i did when i got down on one knee and gave you that ring?
y/nmercer idk? i thought you just had a really weird way of gifting a promise ring or something
dawson1417 call me every day and tell me all about the mormons and life in utah! i’m gonna miss you, but i’m so happy you found your happily ever after and have someone to take on life with ❤️
dawson1417 even if that someone is john
john.marino97 we’re gonna be brothers one day, and then you’re gonna wish you were nicer to me
dawson1417 @/john.marino97 nah
y/nmercer i love you, bubba 🤍 thank you for being my best friend and allowing me to follow you around for the past 22 years. life will be so much different without you by my side
lhughes_06 i’ll miss you, mom! i hope you have a good time in utah! i’m gonna miss you dropping off cookies after losses and doing my curls
y/nmercer my first child <3 i love you so much, hun! i’m gonna miss you so much but i’ll see you later this summer and when we play NJD!
user92 this must be so hard for her :( i can’t imagine being with your twin from the womb to 22 and then having to move across the country just like that
user16 i mean, i’d assume she knew the risks of being with a hockey player and that it meant she could have to leave
user92 @/user16 that doesn’t make it any less hard for her
jackhughes gonna miss ya short stack! don’t get shunned out there in utah!
y/nmercer you’re not that much taller than me! just for that, i will not miss you
jackhughes oh no, you’ve wounded me! what ever will i do?!
y/nmercer fall in a hole, slut
jackhughes right back at you, whore
y/nmercer @/john.marino97 JOHN! LOOK WHAT HE CALLED ME!
jackhughes tattletale. you can dish it out but you can’t take it?
y/nmercer i’m just a girl
nicohischier we’ll miss your presence here in NJ, but i can’t wait to hear all about your new life, y/n!
y/nmercer please bring me back so many swiss treats as a going away gift!
user04 new jersey is gonna miss john’s talent and your kind heart and vivacious energy! i hope utah treats you guys well!
ehaula utah stole my babysitter! good luck out there, i’ll miss you both!
y/nmercer i’ll fly back. don’t ever underestimate what i’ll do for your children, erik.
nicolelaud i’m gonna miss my wine wife so bad 🍷🤍 i’ll pour a glass in your honor, babe. it’s been a privilege to be your friend and watch your relationship blossom beautifully. i’ll still see you in a few weeks, right?!
y/nmercer thank you for welcoming me into this team dynamic with open arms! i’ll miss you!! and absolutely! no chance i’m giving up a jersey bachelorette party!
user78 THIS IS HOW I FOUND OUT JOHN IS LEAVING US?! I HATE MY LIFE
vitacz15 i’m so sorry to hear about this! but i know you’ll do great there!
y/nmercer i miss my daily dose of vitek! thank you, VV!
curtislazar95 i’ll miss *adam hamway voice* THE MARINO’S! hope you thrive on the west coast! luke’s curls will miss you too
y/nmercer i’m a marino?! 🥹
curtislazar95 well yeah, soon enough!
naterbastian take care of my boy out there in the beehive state! i know he and you are gonna do great things!
y/nmercer awww bass! don’t worry, i’ll take care of your husband! 🫶🏻
jesperbratt don’t be a stranger ❤️ you have a home here any time. we’ll miss you both lots
y/nmercer oh bratt-man, don’t make me cry again 🥺
user30 the way john hasn’t posted a goodbye but she has 😭
user6 well, john never posted a goodbye when he was traded from the penguins either, but considering this seems to be the first NHL player she’s dated, i assume this is her first time having to leave against her will from a city she’s grown to call home, so it makes sense that she posted a goodbye
tmeier96 good luck on the west coast! i’m just a text away if you ever need anything, it was a pleasure to get to know you
y/nmercer just stab me with a dull soup spoon already, it would hurt less
john.marino97 @/y/nmercer no.
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lunarticxenia · 1 year
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Astrology Observations #4
Hellooooo I’m back!!!!!
TW: SA mention, Ab*se mention
🌬Gemini suns are the epitome of golden retriever energy. 
🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people in the psychology field or with psych degrees tend to have Cancer and/or Virgo placements in their big 6. Either that or strong 4th and 6th house energy. Makes a lot of sense. 4th house= emotions. 6th house= service for others.
🌬Cancer suns are underrated for being leaders, I’ve had so many bosses and higher-ups who have been Cancer suns. 
🌬I’ve noticed that homewreckers tend to have a lot of fire/water dominance in their charts, which I think is due to their passion ruling their decisions. I’ve noticed this with cheaters as well. I also think with water placements it comes from insecurity.
🌬Cancer sun women are underrated in terms of sex appeal. My mom said the same thing too so it’s not just me tooting my own horn. Let’s think of some popular Cancer sun celebrities- Pam Anderson, Ariana Grande, Lana Del Rey, Sofia Vergara, Selena Gomez. All have sex appeal and have been sexualized a lot. Cancer sun women do get sexualized a lot. I’m realizing this as I type it. I only notice this in women though, sorry Cancer sun men LMAO. I’m a Cancer sun and I get sexualized for no gd reason.
🌬I’ve noticed that Taurus Venus and Taurus Mars people tend to go for more curvier/voluptuous women. 
🌬Peak Aries moon energy is losing interest in someone because they’re not giving you enough attention. 
🌬I feel like Cancer suns care a lot about politics and this quality is often overlooked. 
🌬I feel like Taurus rising women+ feminine presenting people have like the ultra divine feminine energy. I think it’s because Venus rules their chart, but a lot of Taurus risings I’ve noticed are VERY feminine or have feminine qualities.
🌬Taurus risings and Sagittarius risings tend to be thick LMAO or at least very curvy.
🌬Not really an observation but other aspects in your chart can be very powerful and overshadow qualities you’re “supposed” to have. For example I have two friends who are Aries suns with Libra moons with earth rising, and they are so different. I will say both do have feminine qualities though, like personality wise and physically. Other than that though they’re very different, one is the stereotypical Aries and the other is more like a Pisces.
🌬Idk what’s been going on but I feel like I’ve been encountering so many Libra suns with Sagittarius moons. I don’t know if that’s a common combo, but I’ve been coming across a lot of them lately. (I also work with one). I’ve noticed the men with these aspects are such fuckboys, the women usually aren’t, but the men? Oof.
🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people with Bipolar disorder or BPD tend to have harsh aspects between their sun and moon. I think it’s because those are the two most personal parts of our charts and having them clash can create conflict within.
🌬I feel like a lot of prominent Sagittarius placements get tattoos or wanna get tattoos. P much every Sag placement I’ve known has tattoos or wants to get them. 
🌬Libra sun women have nice asses. I SAID IT OKAY. Even if it’s not big it’s a nice shape.
🌬Libra Mars and Cancer Mars tend to have stomach issues, I feel like it’s because we bottle up our anger and it affects our bodies 😂
🌬️I feel like people with their Venus and Mars in the same sign can balance their masculine and feminine energy very well.
🌬️One Virgo placement in the big three can really make someone so anal retentive which ironic bc Virgo rules the bowels… 👀👀👀👀 Even if they’re not like that about cleaning, some aspect in their life they’re very obsessive over… however I do notice it’s cleaning for many. I live with two Virgo risings and I get screamed at for leaving a fork in the sink, y’all scare me…
🌬️Going off of that, Cancer and Libra placements get a lot of crap for being passive aggressive, but y’all need to include Virgos in there. They are so passive aggressive it’s not even funny 😂
🌬️Asteroid Medusa (149) harsh aspects to personal planets can indicate s*xual assault.
🌬️I stg 12th house synastry is so fucking hard, I feel like I see this a lot in relationships that couldn’t get off the ground or where one person is obsessed with the other. I think that makes sense since the 12th house deals with illusions, unclarity, etc. It’s such a deep connection too, when it works it works but when it doesn’t, it really hurts.
🌬️The house that your Midheaven ruling planet falls into can tell you a lot about your career. My midheaven is Virgo which makes the ruler Mercury, and my Mercury falls in my 8th house. This house deals with a lot of taboo and intensity, which makes sense because I work on an inpatient psychiatric unit. I also want to be a psychologist. So there ya go lol.
🌬️Nessus in the 1st/aspects to the 1st can indicate ab*se in the native’s life, whether it’s giving or receiving. It’s very heavy energy. It can also indicate being into some freaky ass shit in the bedroom, alot of adult actors have this in their chart. 
🌬️Going off of that, Nessus aspects in a positive manner can make someone who wants to help victims of ab*se, whether they’ve been ab*sed or not themselves.
🌬️If a person has both Nessus and Dejanira in their chart, they may have been a victim of ab*se and maybe ab*sive towards others. With this played out in a more positive manner, it can make someone who was a victim of ab*se want to help other victims. ^^^
🌬️Mutable risings really are chameleons when it comes to their appearance. They can manage to make themselves look like completely different people, i.e. Lady Gaga, Kim Kardashian.
🌬️Algol 26° Taurus aspects to NN can make an individual very stoic and able to handle chaos & negative situations well. 
🌬️Prominent Virgo/Mercury placements tend to pick at their skin and enjoy things like popping pimples and stuff lol. 
🌬️Asteroids Messalina (545), Swindle (8690), Sirene (1009), Tantalus (2102), and Lie (26955) aspecting Mercury and/or in the 3rd house can indicate someone who’s very good at lying and manipulating others. 
🌬️Asteroid Sappho (80) in women/feminine people and Asteroid Ganymed (1036) in men/masculine people having harsh aspects to NN or personal planets can indicate LGBT+ people who heavily struggle with figuring out their sexuality (more so than usual lol). 
🌬️I have Asteroid Achilles (588) conjunct my North Node, and that’s the asteroid of where we’re most vulnerable and where our weaknesses are. I feel like that makes sense for me... lol. I tend to let other people tell me how to live my life, and struggle with making decisions for myself. I also have it in the 8th and I tend to struggle with my sexuality. (Kind of a part 2 to the previous bullet?) I also have it in Cancer and I have mommy issues LMAO. I guess this one’s more of a self observation...
I know this isn’t a crazy long post but it feels good to be back lol!
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lupinsweater · 4 days
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What about teacher James out in the wild, like reader and her kid are at a family diner in the weekend and coincidentally james is there w his friends and the kids all like omg it's mr james and idk its fun and sweet and wholesome, and u get to see that james is just as good and sweet and energetic w kids in and out of school♡.
this was such a cute idea! thank you so much for requesting darling!🤎
part one part two
Teacher!James Potter x Single Mom!Reader 💌 1.9k words
thanks to my bestie @blueberry-bees for beta reading this one for me!
♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡
The week following your embarrassing drop-off encounter with James, you were finally feeling better and decided to take Charlie to the local diner for the evening. He had been doing well with his homework, and you wanted to celebrate his hard work. The diner was nothing special, but it was cozy with its gingham tablecloths and mismatched light fixtures over the tables. Charlie had been excited all day about eating his favorite chicken tenders, and the promise of a chocolate milkshake had kept his energy up, even after school.
The two of you had just settled into a booth by the window when you heard a familiar laugh. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced around, looking for the source of the sound. There, across the room, sat James, surrounded by a group of friends who were all laughing with him. His smile was just as easy, warm, and charming as always. He was animatedly telling some story that had everyone else at his table entertained. You admired him for a moment but quickly looked away, hoping that Charlie hadn’t noticed. Charlie, however, was a very observant child; he was already clambering to stand up on the seat of the booth to get a better look at the person who caught your eye.
“Mr. James!” He shouted, waving his little arms wildly as he tried to get his teacher’s attention. You frantically reached across the table, cringing inwardly as you tried to shush Charlie, but it was too late. James looked around, and when he spotted the two of you, his face lit up. He turned to say something to his friends before slipping out of his seat and walking over to your table.
“Well, look who it is!” James said, ruffling your son’s hair as he bounced on the seat with excitement. “My favorite student named Charlie.”
“Mr. James, I’m the only kid in my class named Charlie,” he giggled, staring up at James like he had just seen Santa.
“Oh, really?” James said, pretending to look confused. “Well, that must be why you’re the best one.” He turned to look at you with a grin. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
You smiled back at him, feeling that familiar warmth creep into your cheeks. “Yeah, it’s kind of our go-to spot,” you said, hoping your voice hid your nervousness.
James glanced back at his friends, who were all pretending not to watch your interaction but failing miserably. James shook his head at them before turning back to give you his full attention with an amused smile. “Well, it’s an excellent choice. The food here is always good.” His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, but he quickly seemed to remember himself, clearing his throat and dragging his eyes back to Charlie. “I should probably let the two of you eat, though.”
James lingered for long enough that it was clear to you that he wasn’t in a hurry to leave, nor did you want him to. Charlie reached out and tugged on his sleeve, getting his attention. “Are you eating here too, Mr. James?” he asked curiously.
James smiled patiently back at Charlie. “Yeah, I am. Just having dinner with my friends, see?” He pointed back at his friends, who had stopped trying to hide that they were watching you intently. They waved at Charlie, who waved back with enthusiasm. James caught your eye, grinning. “Maybe I’ll stop by your table after you guys finish your food and we can have milkshakes together.”
“Sure,” you said, maybe a bit too quickly. You felt your cheeks flush. “That would be nice.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you two in a bit,” James said, waving as he turned around to walk back over to his friends. He didn’t make it far before he suddenly stopped, turned around, and walked back to you.. You raised an eyebrow at him because he looked like he’d just had an epiphany. “Hey, you know what? Why don’t you come over and meet my friends while you’re waiting for your food? I promise they won’t bite.”
You blinked, startled by his invitation. Meeting his friends felt way more personal than just having a milkshake with him. But before you could come up with a reason to politely decline his offer, Charlie was already back on his feet, bouncing with excitement. “Oh, yes! Please, can we go, Mummy?”
You could never refuse Charlie when he looked at you like that- his lip jutting out and his eyes wide and pleading. “Alright, I guess we can say hello,” you replied, defeated. James was clearly pleased with your answer because he grinned, offered a hand to Charlie (who jumped off the booth seat and kept a firm grip on James’ hand) and led the two of you to his table. You were trying to come up with a way to introduce yourself to his friends without looking as uncomfortable as you felt, but James beat you to it, smiling with ease at his friends as you approached the large corner booth.
“Hey guys, this is Charlie and his mum,” James said, reaching down to scoop Charlie into his arms so he could see all of his friends over the table. “He’s in my class.”
His group of friends smiled warmly at the two of you. A tall, sandy-haired man was the first to stand and offer you his hand as he introduced himself. “Remus Lupin. It’s lovely to meet you.” You returned his smile, and the man sitting next to him scrambled to his feet as well, taking your hand in his with a firm shake.
“I’m Sirius, the best-looking one of the group,” he said, winking at you playfully. Everyone laughed, and the red-haired woman shoved him back into his seat, leaning across the table.
“And the most delusional,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Lily.” She introduced herself. “Please ignore him.”
You giggled, shaking her hand as well. The last two girls at the table waved at you as you turned to look at them. “Marlene,” the blonde one with the shaggy haircut said, as the girl with the dark curls told you that her name was Mary.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” you said, unable to hide your smile at how friendly they all were. James had set Charlie down onto his seat at the booth at some point, and he had scooched himself over to where Sirius and Remus were sitting, chattering away at them as they watched him with amused smiles. “I hope we’re not interrupting your meal too much.”
“No, not at all!” Lily said, smiling at you. “It’s nice to finally put faces to your names.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, and you shot a look at James, who looked like he wanted to strangle Lily and die on the spot simultaneously. “I might have mentioned you a few times,” he admitted, trying to seem nonchalant, but a hint of color rose in his cheeks.
Sirius snorted, glancing over at James as Remus talked with Charlie. “More than a few. James has been singing your praises since school started, hasn’t he?” He asked, nudging Remus in the side, who nodded noncommittally. Marlene and Mary giggled as he continued. “In fact, what was it that you were saying the other day, James? How you thought she was intelligent, and hardworking, and gorgeous…”
“Okay, thank you, Sirius!” James yelped, his cheeks flushing a deep red.
You giggled, bringing your hand up to cover your face. You tilted your head towards James’s as the rest of the table laughed. “I had no idea I’d left such an impression,” you said, your voice almost a whisper, your tone half-teasing.
James gave you a strained smile, but you gave him a genuine one in return, which made his gaze soften. “Hey, why don’t you sit down and I’ll go order that milkshake for Charlie?” James asked, tilting his head towards the empty spot at the end of the booth. Your eyes widened, and you shook your head.
You started to protest right as Charlie exclaimed, “Really? Can I, Mummy?” James raised an eyebrow and gave you a smug smirk. You sighed in exasperation and sat down, gesturing to Charlie.
“Go on, then. But just the one, okay?” You said. James grinned, reaching over you to scoop Charlie up and set him down on the ground. He grabbed his hand, guided him over to the counter, and helped him sit up on one of the barstools to wait after they ordered. James leaned against the counter casually but listened to Charlie’s chatter intently. The waitress came back a few moments later with Charlie’s milkshake and they began to make their way back to you. You heard James caution him not to run- and to be careful not to spill his drink- and Charlie obeyed, walking slowly and carefully back to you.
“Look, Mummy! Mr. James got me a big one!” Charlie said excitedly as he approached you. You smiled, taking the milkshake from his hands and helping him up onto the booth, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The waitress approached with your two plates of food, and nobody batted an eye as she slid them onto the table and refilled a few glasses of water.
You watched her set your plates down with alarm, but Charlie just crawled across your lap to sit down between you and Sirius. James slid into the booth next to you, nudging your arm playfully as he sat close enough to you that you could feel his thigh pressed against yours.. Charlie dug into his food, and James laughed at your flabbergasted face, giving you a reassuring nod that nobody minded you eating with them.
As the conversation carried on, you noticed that Lily, Marlene, and Mary had all turned their attention to Charlie, who was practically glowing at all the attention he was receiving.
“Oh, look at him,” Mary said, her voice soft as she leaned forward. “He’s absolutely adorable.”
“I can’t believe how well-behaved he is,” Marlene added, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “If I were his age, I’d be bouncing off the walls right now.”
Lily grinned, a playful gleam in her eye. “You’ve got a real charmer on your hands, Y/N. Look at him working the room!”
You couldn’t help but smile, watching as Charlie ate up everyone’s compliments. “He has his moments,” you said, unable to hide the pride in your voice.
“Don’t be modest,” Mary said, glancing between you and James. “With James as his teacher and you as his mum, he’s got the best of both worlds. Right, James?”
James, who had been quietly watching the interaction with a smile, gave a little shrug. “I’m just lucky to have him in my class. He’s smart, kind, and curious—he’s going places.”
You felt your heart warm at James’ words, especially the way he spoke about Charlie with such affection. It was clear that he cared about your son, and it made the butterflies in your chest stir again.
Charlie, who had been listening closely, chose that moment to announce proudly, “Mummy says I get my smarts from her.” He grinned cheekily as he earned a round of laughter from the group.
“See, he’s smart and humble,” Sirius teased, ruffling Charlie’s hair.
You couldn’t help but laugh along with the group, but when you glanced back at James, his eyes were still on you, and the warmth of his attention was unmistakable. You smiled back, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you were totally screwed.
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ohno-the-sun · 1 year
Text
Spoiler heavy fnaf ruin dlc rant up ahead
I am so fucking proud of steal wool they really took every criticism from the original game and fixed it and even added more
Like Cassie actually acts like a human being?? And like her knowledge of the original characters and cute little comments on every item are so endearing there is so much detail going into this.
The fact that they expanded on one of the fan faves Roxanne and giving her a great arc I’m in love I’m so happy
They honestly gave more depth to all the animatronics too like we finally see Bonnie’s design and get and get a taste as to what happened, also that poster Freddy gifted him I’m crying they are so cute and gay I love them
😭😭😭
Also the whole dark ride section with Monty is so fascinating like is that narrative kind of true or is it just fabricated by fazbear inc to cover up the decommissioning of Bonnie
Why replace Bonnie with Monty?? Why not make a new Bonnie model?? With the prototype label on Freddy it may be confirmed that they make multiple models (well we already kinda knew that with Freddies comments but oh well)
Also Freddy?? Like is that our Freddy or a different one?? They very clearly highlighted the prototype label so they want to emphasize it, but then the head is still missing like in the princess quest ending so what is the truth??
Feel bad for chica fans tho she really was sidelined hard
Aaaaa and my baby boys!!! There’s 3 now aaahaga
I was really not expecting eclipse to be the way they were, very… normal? Is that the right word?? Like obviously a little delusional on when the daycare is gonna open again, but in the right mindset of like this child needs to leave this place is not safe. It is interesting to me that both he and Roxy thought that it was Cassie’s birthday, maybe that was the last day before she left the plex? Or maybe that was the day the plex caught fire? Or maybe most depressingly we are playing on Cassie’s birthday so the animatronics have it in their systems what her birthday is and wish her a happy one (if they are in the right state of mind lol)
Some peeps are upset moon is a little too villainous
I think you can still say it was mainly the virus but I would argue even if it’s not the virus I feel like moon is kinda justified here. Like sun has been shutting him away for a long time before this (if the books are to be believed but also in general) so when he finally gets a chance to roam free of course he’s gonna take it. And idk about u but if my alternate personality was constantly trying to shut me out and I finally got control, I probably too would try and keep my control for as long as possible. Also from what I have seen so far, not even moon is all that aggressive? Like he grabs you at the beginning, but I think that’s just his very ineffective way to get kids to sleep and other than that he just kinda stays away
Poor sunny baby is stuck in the ar world 🥺🥺 I didn’t notice at first but yeah everytime you talk to him it’s only in the ar world. And the end part where you switch them out for eclipse if you do that in the ar world, he says not for me it’s for moon.
I will say though I noticed the voice acting for them changed a little this game, like both have a higher pitch and are more goofy sounding? Like more gremlin energy than evil villainy. I wonder if that was on purpose? Both of them sounded more like the other so maybe that was the reason? Interest interest
Also their mouth moves?? Sort of?? That’s so silly to me they have a whole working mouth system and their face mask doesn’t work with at all 😭
Does give me lore intrigue tho cause like why do their mouths move but not anymore?? Did something happen?? Are they just not maintained enough?? They also move outward instead of up and down (at least from what I saw) so is the mechanism different?
Also the way that sun and moon talk about eachother is so interesting. Like moon says the light hurts “us” and sun says “no the other me” like they seem to almost consider eachother more connected than we first thought, like they’re not just coworkers or strangers they are almost like two sides of the same person. It’s very interesting and I wonder where people will take this.
Overall great job I’m so excited to comb through the game and find every little secret (especially regarding the dca) aaaa
Ok ok update moon does have a jump scare but it’s ridiculously hard to get and I’d still argue he’s not as vicious as he was base game. I mention in another post but eclipse being as kind as he is and being (presumably) a combination of both AIs, gives even more evidence moon is supposed to be kind and caring like his posters suggest but something went wrong. Also Cassie’s comments on their plushes show that there were kids who truly liked the daycare.
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Woooo chapter 3 finally
Probably going to at least start the next chapter tonight because I’m so looking forward to writing Mihawk again. He is in this chapter as I promised, but...we do not wake him from his nap. We know better.
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But Bogard and Garp have been so much fun honestly. Especially Garp giving Luffy vibes because the brainless dumbassery for sure runs in the family.
Not sure if that applies to Dragon but…look it’d be hilarious if it did—
Anyway, chapter threeeeeeeee
Flight Risk
Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader
Ch. 3 of like four or something maybe six at most idk, I have a clear ending in sight but I’m not sure how long it’ll take to get there
Brief summary of The Story So Far: So Garp, in his infinite wisdom, had this brilliant idea about how the Marines could use reader's devil fruit ability (zoan type, gray parrot) to spy on this particularly dangerous and elusive pirate up close, and now reader is stuck scoping out Kuraigana Island to see if there are any signs of him there. Bogard may have a coronary before this nonsense is said and done.
First Chapter link, Next Chapter link
SFW for now, but not in later chapters
Possible trigger warning for blood. Possible future trigger warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)
Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later
Word Count: 3,057
Haven't really proofread this much but I will in a minute I promise
No tag list yet, I do not expect one but if you're interested in seeing where this bullshit goes just lemme know
♫♬I’m Gonna Be Your Elvis — The Fratellis♬♫
I could not pretend that I was even half amused
When all they ever told me left me shaken and confused
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It would have been a beautiful night for a flight, if not for the destination ahead of you.
Kuraigana Island loomed closer as your wings cut through the soft breeze in your transformed state, and catching the wind would ensure that you could simply glide most of the way there without expending too much energy. The chilly night air barely cut through your thick coat of gray feathers, and your dull coloration and the dim light of the crescent moon gave you some reassurance that you would be able to see any potential threat before it could notice you.
Something near the shore by the forest caught your eye, and you swooped in a bit closer to be positive of what you were looking at—and your stomach did a backflip as you confirmed it.
A small vessel was moored there, a boat in the shape of a coffin.
That was confirmation enough that he was here. Part of you considered circling back around the battleship cutting silently through the water a mile or so behind you and reporting this alone to Garp.
But…no. You had been told to fly over, to see what you could from a high enough elevation to avoid detection, and you intended to do just that. This was your first real chance to show your value as a Marine. You couldn’t blow it by turning tail and running the moment you felt the slightest pang of fear. Hardening your resolve, you regained your elevation with a few flaps of your wings, circling the island until you were at a height where you felt safe.
As safe as you could, at least.
The forest was quiet enough—there were no signs of the population of primates Garp had mentioned to you, perhaps all asleep for the evening. Save for the sound of nocturnal birds and insects cutting through the night air, nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the dense forest, or the narrow path that cut through it from the shore. You flew a bit lower, squinting down across the path.
His boat was there. You knew he had to be there somewhere. He never worked with anyone else, so chances were slim to none that he could possibly be anywhere else.
The clearing around the castle was half overgrown itself, littered with ruins and evidence of battles long since ended beneath a thin veil of fog, but the castle itself seemed mostly intact from your vantage point.
Intact, with a dim orange glow glimmering from one of the windows that made you briefly halt in midair, flapping your wings lightly to keep yourself aloft. Fire light. It had to be, there was no other explanation, perhaps the dim glow of a candle or a lantern. There was someone there, someone in a high room of the tower straight ahead of you. That would be enough for you to go back with, more than enough information to all but confirm the reports.
But…if you could get just a little closer, if you could confirm it with your own eyes…
This was a bad idea. It had to be a bad idea. Garp had told you to keep your distance, but you were already swooping down, stopping just beside the window and gripping your talons against the grooves between the stones that comprised the solid wall.
Folding your wings back behind you, slowly and quietly creeping closer to the window.
Closer, just a bit closer, craning your neck the slightest bit to the side to glimpse inside…
The light, as you had thought, came from an oil lantern situated on a small end table, illuminating what appeared to be a sizable den. Most of the visible surfaces in the room were covered with a fine coating of dust that glinted eerily in the flickering glow, from the bookshelves lining one wall to the adjacent hearth. It was quiet at the moment, still, but there was one sign of life that made your heart skip a beat and your breath catch.
Leaning alongside the hearth, unmarred by a single speck of dust, stood a massive sword with a jet-black blade and hilt in the shape of a cross, a glimmering blue gem set into the base of the hilt that seemed to glow in the firelight. Holding your breath as you stared at the weapon, unable to take your eyes off of it, you realized that the room wasn’t quite as silent as you had thought.
The faint whisper of slow, even breathing met your ears.
He was there. He was really there. You considered the likelihood that you were the first Marine to ever get this close without being killed within seconds, considered the idea of taking off back for your ship right that instant.
And then you slowly shifted a little closer to the window, looking around the edge of the windowsill to the other side of the room.
You barely stopped yourself from letting out a gasp.
Reclined back in an old armchair, a book open across his lap, his boots propped up on the table in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted down slightly—it was him. There was no question about it. Even with the small difference from his most recent bounty poster of the angular moustache and goatee, there was no question. You were barely ten feet away from the Marine Killer himself, Dracule Mihawk.
And he was fast asleep.
His chest rose and fell slowly with his deep, even breaths, his eyes closed. His plumed hat sat to the side on an end table, his signature trench coat draped across the back of his chair. You had done it—more than simply scouting for activity, more getting the lay of the land, you had found the man himself.
You jolted in alarm when he shifted in his sleep, quickly pulling your head out of the window, your heart racing.
That, you decided, was more than enough for you to report back. You shifted a careful distance across the wall of the tower, taking care to ensure that your talons didn’t so much as scratch against the stone surface, and took flight back toward the shore, toward the battleship barely visible against the dark water and midnight sky. Gliding just above the treetops, buzzing with adrenaline, you were already swelling with pride. You, a cadet that had spent weeks being taunted and treated like a joke, had managed to use the very ability that had made you a laughingstock to do what no other Marine had yet managed.
For the first time, you had more than just a glimmer of hope that this plan, however ridiculous it sounded on the surface, could actually work.
And then something whizzed past your left wing.
You faltered in your flight, looking around as you flapped your wings a few times to regain your equilibrium. Whatever it was had passed by so fast that you had registered no more than the whistle of wind around it. Maybe a smaller bird or a large bug—
And then it happened again.
And again.
And, as you realized that the objects were coming from below you and looked down, you let out an audible gasp that left you like a strangled squawk.
You were too close to the trees, you realized disjointedly, as you took in the sight of several enormous, ape-like creatures below you. You were also the only bird in the air, which you guessed had a great deal to with the fact that these particular apes were wearing what appeared to be some sort of armor and wielding very human weapons. Swords, spears, axes, and—to your stunned realization—bows.
Another arrow zipped past your right wing, close enough to brush across your feathers.
What the hell what the hell what the hell—
Soaring higher into the air did you little good. The beasts had already spotted you and were following your flight path with ease, still firing arrows, throwing spears (though these, thankfully, didn’t manage to come nearly high enough to pose any threat). You were more than halfway across the expanse of the forest, you could make it, you knew you could.
Nearly to the end of it, dipping higher and lower, zig-zagging through the air to throw off the aim of the strange primates.
Right there, right at the edge of the trees, when a searing pain tore through your right wing, causing you to screech out a swear, glancing down to watch the offending arrow fall and land on the shore below you.
You didn’t even dare glance toward your wing to see how bad the injury was. As long as you didn’t look, it might have only been a scratch. It might have just been a light graze. You tried to ignore how unsteady your flying was, to ignore the fact that you were slowly losing elevation and seemed unable to regain it, that you were swerving to the left no matter how hard you tried not to.
You did focus on the fact that if you fell now, you wouldn’t ever make it back. You’d fall into the nearly black waves below you and sink down into the ocean like a sack of stones, and that would be the end.
Your ship drew closer and closer, growing larger and larger in your line of sight, and you focused on that.
Until you were close enough to glide awkwardly onto the quarterdeck, where Garp and Bogard seemed to be arguing quietly in front of the doors of the Vice Admiral’s cabin, and skid past them across the floorboards, hitting the railing on the starboard side.
Whatever argument your superior officers had been engaged in ceased the moment you transformed, pulling yourself up to sit against the railing, already half-shouting at the older man, “You could have told me they knew how to use weapons!”
You didn’t like the way they stared at you for a long moment, both of their gazes flickering to your right arm, no more than you liked how limp the appendage felt at your side as you gripped at the railing with your left hand.
Garp mumbled something to Bogard, who gave a short nod before disappearing into the cabin.
Garp tilted his head the slightest bit to the side, lifting his eyebrows as he slowly approached you. “That—exactly who knows how to use weapons?” he asked slowly.
“The goddamned apes, that’s who,” you said through your teeth, briefly forgetting every ounce of formality that your time as a Marine had instilled in you. “They had swords! And bows! And armor and spears and—”
“The ap—never mind that for now,” he said slowly, holding up a hand. “You need to calm down, cadet. And we need to get you patched up.”
“Patched up—I could have been killed!”
You still hadn’t looked at your arm. The adrenaline still coursing through your veins made the sharp, throbbing pain seem like an afterthought, like a distant reality as you pulled yourself to your feet. “By a bunch of damned monkeys that evidently—”
“Enough.” You jumped at the harsh command, straightening yourself out completely and snapping to attention in an instant. Your eyes briefly darted to the cabin doors as Bogard emerged, unwinding a belt as he strode over quickly, tossing a quick glare at Garp before lifting your arm and wrapping it around a couple inches below your shoulder. “We can discuss it in a few minutes. We need to get you down to the sick bay first.”
You still didn’t look down, shaking your head at Garp as you stared at him in alarm.
“It was just a scratch, I’m fine—ow—” you added as Bogard abruptly tightened the belt around your arm, glancing over.
Your eyes widened at the sight of the large, deep gash extending nearly from your right elbow to your shoulder.
At the blood steadily spurting out from what was no doubt a pretty important vein or artery.
“O…oh,” was all you could force out, your eyes lowering to the puddle of blood at your feet, the adrenaline rush fading in nearly an instant, leaving you more than a little light-headed. “That’s…”
The makeshift tourniquet around your arm did gradually slow the bleeding by the time you sat down at the edge of one of the cots in the infirmary, but you were still woozy from the blood loss, still lightheaded from everything you had witnessed during your flyover of Kuraigana Island, only catching the vaguest gist of Garp and Bogard’s continued bickering.
“And you didn’t think to inform me of this hare-brained mission beforehand?” Bogard was saying, and while his face was shadowed by the brim of his hat you were sure his expression matched his sour tone.
“It was just recon,” said Garp, sitting at the edge of a cot a few feet away, striking a match and holding it to the end of a cigar clamped between his teeth. “In and out, ten minutes. Didn’t seem like a big deal.”
“And yet here we are,” he said through his teeth, not bothering to glance up at your flinching as he cleaned the gash with an alcohol drenched cloth.
“How the hell was I supposed to know a bunch of goddamned apes would know how to use weapons?” he said, slouching over against the wall. “Wonder if the psychopath trained them…”
“Seeing as we know next to nothing about him aside from the fact that he seems to derive joy from committing mass murder, I don’t suppose anyone knows,” said Bogard, tossing a sidelong glare at the vice admiral, who gave a noncommittal shrug. Bogard tossed the cloth aside with an irritated growl and shoved a clean one into your hands. “Put pressure on that.”
“Yessir,” you said automatically, wincing as you pushed the rag against the wound.
“With all due respect, Garp, this entire farce was your idea,” said Borgard, straightening out from where he had been kneeling next to your cot to cross the room and begin rifling through drawers and cabinets. “I’m sure you can imagine what we’d have to deal with were we to return to headquarters and have to inform Sengoku that our operative was killed en route by a bow-wielding monkey.”
“Eh…” Garp shrugged a shoulder, his own expression souring at the thought. “But hell, at least we know why no one’s made it out of the place now. So we did get some information.”
“And suppose the target had been there?”
“He was.”
Both men froze when you spoke up—Garp halfway through pulling his cigar from his mouth to flick the ashes from the end, Bogard with a drawer halfway shut, both of them slowly turning their heads to look toward you.
“You should probably tell someone at headquarters to update his bounty poster,” you added, tapping at your chin. “He, ah, has a goatee now.”
Both men continued to regard you in stunned silence for several long, tense seconds, glancing at each other as your words slowly sunk in.
Garp’s face split into a grin, and his hearty laughter a moment later completely drowned out his partner’s weary sigh. Bogard slowly closed the drawer, turning around to lean back against the counter behind him, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.
“Were you not instructed to keep your distance?” he said loudly, glowering over at Garp as the older man threw his head back in laughter. You sat up a bit straighter when Bogard turned his glare on you, crossing his arms, frowning at you with the same measure of exasperation. “Had you been seen—”
“I was careful,” you said quickly. “I noticed a light in one of the castle windows. Most of the place is in ruins but the castle is still standing. I only peeked through the corner of the window, he was asleep.”
You decided as his frowned deepened that it was best not to mention how long you had lingered in the windowsill.
“Sounds to me like the kid passed her test with flying colors,” said Garp, still chuckling to himself. He gave you a nod of approval, pointing toward you with the smoldering end of his cigar. “Good work, cadet.”
“It sounds,” said Bogard, pulling the drawer next to him open sharply, “as if our cadet was taking wholly unnecessary risks for the sake of an unnecessarily dangerous and unauthorized ‘test’ of her abilities.” Garp rolled his eyes at the indirect scolding, leaning against the wall of the infirmary again. “Needless to say,” he went on, fishing through the drawer and retrieving a suture kit before shoving it closed, “the next time any of your commanding officers sees fit to pose you with such a mission again…”
He grabbed a clipboard off of the counter, flipped over an empty medical report to its blank side, and tossed it onto the cot next to Garp, before heading back over to sit at the cot across from yours. You watched as he retrieved a large, curved needle and set to threading it, tossing a sharp look at you.
“…you are both advised and encouraged to run it by me first. Understood?” You nodded quickly as he pulled the cloth out of your hands and away from the expansive gash across your arm. “Good. Then you’ll relay what you witnessed during your reconnaissance, and our esteemed vice admiral will take down the report—”
“Why the hell do I have to—”
“Because you’re terrible at applying stitches,” Bogard snapped before Garp could finish his protest. The older man rolled his eyes, snatching up the clipboard and digging a pen out of his pocket. Bogard leaned over with the threaded needle in his hand and added, “This is going to hurt.”
“Probably not much more than nearly having my wing shot off,” you reasoned.
Garp snorted.
Bogard sighed, muttering something under his breath about being surrounded by idiots, before grabbing your wrist and pulling your arm straight, not bothering to give you any warning before jabbing the needle through your skin.
“Just stay still,” he said over the sharp hiss of air your drew in through your teeth at the pain, “and relay your report, cadet."
Next chapter link again, for your convenience
First Chapter Link again, for your convenience
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aerynwrites · 1 month
Text
Mixed Signals
Solas x reader/inquisitor
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A/N: the Poll has spoken! y'all chose option 2 (I love that btw) so you shall receive. Some backstory - for whatever reason and despite having all the approval requirements and everything, my game bugged and I did NOT get the solas balcony romance scene and I'm MAD!!! idk what the scene was even supposed to be other than a kiss but yeah. here's this lol. this is also my first ever DAI pic so I apologize if things seem OOC. Hope you all enjoy!
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Hurt/comfort, very slight angst, fluff, kisses, petting? lost of kissing.
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 “I’ve disturbed you enough for the evening.”
Solas’ parting words ring in your head endlessly since he left your chambers yesterday. They had stunned you, making your brows furrow as his demeanor seemed to change. You were sure, so sure he was going to take a step forward in your relationship. Even though you’d both agreed to take the risk, the tension had never waned, as if one wrong move would destroy the fragile relationship you’ve built. 
When he left…you thought it had finally shattered. That not acting on the energy crackling in the air, Solas was - effectively - giving you a final verdict. 
That was until today, when you went to visit him, after hours spent in the war room. Cassandra wanted you to speak with him about his knowledge on the elven artifacts you’ve been finding throughout the region. 
You walked in, finding him sitting in his chair, thumbing through a worn leather book. 
“Solas -”
“Yes, vhenan?” 
You nearly choke on air, hiding it behind a small cough. The term of endearment was not one used lightly, especially not by Solas. Your heart was thrumming in your chest, eyes wide as Solas finally looked up from the withered pages at your silence. 
He raises a brow at you, closing the book on his thumb to keep his place. “Did you need to speak with me?” he asks, again. 
Your mind runs at breakneck speed, yet you’re still unable to comprehend his words, still stuck on his initial greeting. 
Vhenan…
Solas stands then, setting his book down before taking a few steps to stand before you, settling a gentle hand on your arm. 
“Vhenan…are you alright?” he asks, voice soft, concern glittering in his gaze.
Finally your eyes connect with his own, and it feels as if the breath is stolen from you once more. That memory from the fade playing over and over in your mind. But you quickly shake it off, breaking his gaze and looking at the wall over his shoulder. 
“Yes, I…” you trail off, voice small, unsure. “I seem to have forgotten what I came for. Forgive me.” 
You turn without another word, hurrying from his presence with a greater haste than when you arrived, leaving a baffled Solas in your wake. 
That had been hours ago, the sun having long set, yet sleep evades you as you lay in your too large bed in your too large chambers. You are more confused now than when he left you on your balcony just a day ago. He had a chance, a chance to speak with you about…well about whatever this was. You had expected as much when he asked to speak to you alone, in your chambers no less. Yet…he didn’t take it. And now, he’s calling you endearments you’d always dreamed of hearing from his lips, whispered against your skin…
With a frustrated huff you sit up in bed, tossing the covers aside. You are going to find answers, you have to talk to him. 
Quickly lighting a candle, you reach for the robe hanging on the post of your bed, pulling it over your shoulders before reaching for the candle once more. You make your way across the room, the chill of the stone floor sinking into the soles of your feet as you pad towards the door. 
Pulling the door open, you have to stop the shout that bubbles up in your chest as you’re met with the very person you were searching for. Solas stands on the threshold of your chambers, hand raised to knock, and the tips of his ears just the slightest tinge of red at having been caught. 
“Solas-” “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
You both speak at the same time before falling silent, waiting for the other to speak. 
“I was just-” “I need to speak with you”
By now your own cheeks are burning, as silence envelops you once more. 
“Well, this isn’t going to work.” you finally say, heart fluttering at the smile your words elicit from the elf in front of you.
“Conversation will not get far that way, no,” Solas concedes. 
You step aside, gesturing him in, a command he silently obeys. 
Neither of you speak for a moment, and you take the opportunity to light a few more candles around the room, noticing only briefly that Solas seems…nervous. 
“Vhenan-”
“Why do you call me that?” you interrupt, setting the last candle down on your bedside table. 
This question seems to perplex the man, his brows furrowing as confusion settles on his features. 
“Vhenan,” you repeat the term, “Why do you call me that?”
“Do you not like the term? I just assumed it was appropriate-”
“Why?” you interrupt again, all your confusion and inner turmoil and insecurities coming to the surface now that you're alone with him. “I didn’t think…I know you were hesitant about this relationship. I know you think it’s a risk. But you…you left, Solas.”
You can tell he wants to speak, but he stays silent, encouraging you to continue in his own peculiar way. 
“On the balcony,” you clarify. “I thought…you asked to speak with me and I thought-” you cut yourself off, clenching the fabric of your robe in your hands as you struggle to verbalize your thoughts without sounding like an idiot. 
“I thought there was more to  say, there was more you were going to say. About us. But then…you said that you respected me deeply but then you just left! As if you are some burden I wanted gone, or as if you aren’t worthy of my time, but I- I want this Solas. With you. I want you, and I thought you wanted me, and if you don’t that is fine. But you can’t keep sending these clashing signals-”
You don’t  even notice him approach, not until his lips meet your own, cool hands cradling your face as he pulls you deeper into the kiss. A kiss you eagerly return, hands dropping your robe to instead fist into the fabric of his tunic, pulling him impossibly closer, wishing you could pull him into your very being. 
You stumble blindly as Solas urges you backwards, your knees hitting the edge of the bed, Solas following you down to the feather mattress, catching his weight on his forearms. 
He never breaks the kiss, his lips molding against yours as fire runs through your veins, burning brighter than the summer sun. His hands, calloused from years of wielding his staff, slide beneath your robe and ruck up your night shirt in search of the soft skin beneath. 
You both only separate for desperate gasps of air before Solas is devouring you once more, teeth nipping at your lip before you feel his tongue slide along the seam of your lips. You clutch him tighter as he sighs into you at your willing acceptance, exploring your mouth with his own before he finally breaks away from you, nuzzling against your jaw as he presses feather light kisses there and down your neck. 
“I want you,” he breathes, hands clutching at your waist. “I crave you. And it terrifies me.” he admits. 
You take a moment to gather your thoughts, the thoughts that were scattered leagues apart from one another by his kisses, by his hands roaming over your skin. 
“You…you can be afraid and still do it,” you tell him. 
Solas chuckles then, an almost inaudible sound against your collar bone. 
“What do you think I’m doing?”
You smile, sliding your hands up to cup his jaw, urging him up to look at you, heart stuttering a the look in his eyes. 
“I thought…”
He shakes his head, turning to place a kiss on your palm. 
“I have not stopped thinking about our kiss in the fade,” he admits. “I’m sorry if my actions betrayed otherwise.” 
 “Will you stay?” you ask.
Solas smiles down at you before capturing you in another breathtaking kiss. 
“Nothing would please me more.”
Solas lifts himself from you, helping you beneath the covers before moving to extinguish the lights around the room. When the last one is blown out, you only know he joins you when the bed dips at your side, the covers lifting as he slides in beside you. 
Warm hands seek you out once more, lips fumbling in the dark until you kiss one last time, this one seeming to promise more than words ever could. 
Neither of you speak again. Not until you both settle, Solas’ body pressing into you from behind as his arms snake around your waist, legs tangling with your own. Not until you’re already in the dregs of slumber and you hear him call to you one last time.
“vhen’an’ara.”
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gay-wh0re-slut · 10 months
Note
Hiiiiii THERE!!!!!!!!!
I love love loveeeeee everything your writing and would like to that the opportunity to thank you so much for your services! 🫡
I have a request if that’s okay…
Rhea x Fem Reader having had a fling now and then nothing serious besides a kiss or two. Reader has a toxic situationship she keeps going back to where the guy hurts her constantly as in not being faithful, but they still have make up smex in a constant cycle.
Rhea’s finds out about all of this through friends of a friend type situation. She confronts Reader one day to make you leave him. Reader basically confronts that she stays with him cuz he’s a man and she likes that masculine energy for security but there are hardly any good men left so she won’t bother leaving him in search of a new one. Rhea asks like what about a woman? and Reader laughs and says a woman can’t give her what a man can sexually. LOL
Rhea is upsets but sees the challenge..
Idk where I am going with this.. PLEASE, MAY WE GET HUGE STRAP ENERGY DOM RHEA PLEASE 🤭
Thank you so much❤️‍🔥
hehehe you’re welcome soldier🫡
but oh shit oh fuck this is so good…damn i have no words to describe how i feel rn this is crazy good thank you for the request seriously.
after writing: this is soooo incredibly long i’m sorry so get comfy haha
Teacher
rhea x fem!reader
content: talks of a toxic relationship before getting down and dirty with Mrs. Hot Goth Wrestler with a skilled tongue, good fingers and huge strap 😌
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“We have to stop doing this,” she says out of breath.
“Yees,” you moan, “but not now.”
The two of you were in a one stall bathroom backstage, away from everyone. Rhea was feeling you up as she went back to kissing you roughly. Her hand travelled down to the zipper on your pants but you stopped her.
“Oh come on,” she tried to seduce you back into it.
“I can’t, I’m sorry,” you pushed her away a bit, “I’m sorry,” you wiped your mouth.
Her whole aura changed when you broke the kiss but she didn’t want to push you to do anything you didn’t want to do. She didn’t say anything which made you feel worse than you already did.
“I’ll uh… text you later,” you fixed your shirt that she had roughed up.
“Yeah,” she stepped out of your way.
You walked out of the bathroom hanging your head, feeling horrible.
Several months have passed and you are back with your ex, but you’ve been on and off the whole time. You swore you would never date a cheater but when it was good, it was so good. He treated you like a queen by giving you flowers all the time, setting up random dates and the sex was amazing. He worked you out better than anyone else and he knew it too and held it over your head.
It’s only been one time that he’s gone behind your back. You caught him sending pics to “The Pizza Palace”, so you screamed and yelled and cried then left him for a good few weeks before he came crawling back to you.
Your friends begged you not to go back to him but you couldn’t get over how good he was in bed and you were afraid you wouldn’t find anyone else who could love you.
“I’m so sorry baby, I promise I won’t do it again, I’m so sorry, I love you so so much. I was stupid and I couldn’t see that you were perfect for me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I’m so sorry,” he cried.
As soon as you accepted his apology you had ground rules: whenever you were suspicious of his texts, he had to let you look; his location was on at all times; and you needed to know his work schedule.
But once a cheater, always a cheater and somehow he found a way to cheat on you again. You had enough and finally cut ties with him for good, or so you thought.
“Baby please, I’m so sorry, I can’t live without you. You’re my baby, I need you, I won’t do it again,” and you ended up right back in his bed.
This went on for a couple months and Rhea had kept trying to meet up with you again, but you pushed her away. She had no clue what was going on behind closed doors but she was going to find out. So she asked a mutual friend of yours when they went to lunch.
“You didn’t know?”
“She never told me anything,” the wrestler’s face was shocked.
“Oh yeah girl. He’s obviously mentally unwell himself and he’s taking it out on her by cheating and then asking to come back. The only reason she keeps going back is because ‘he’s a god in bed’, ” the friend air quoted.
“My god. No wonder why she’s been avoiding me,” Rhea was upset about the whole thing. Her mind was racing trying to figure out what she could do to help you out.
“I’ve been trying to tell her not to go back to him, but she won’t listen to me,” the friend said insinuating that Rhea could most definitely do something.
You haven’t talked to Rhea in a while, just some brief hello’s here and there as you passed her by. She kept her distance after you basically ghosted her but she couldn’t stay away for long.
“Hey,” Rhea texts you.
“Heyy,” you replied but you were on your couch a couple weeks after you got back with your ex, refreshing the maps for his location every second.
“Wanna get coffee tomorrow?” she asked not wanting to set off any alarming messages that she was basically having an intervention so she could get you alone.
“I’d love to! I’ve been thinking about you,” you weren’t lying, you did miss her but as a friend more than anything else.
“Perfect, 10 okay? At the one near your place?”
“I’ll be there!” you smiled at this small interaction but you couldn’t think about anything other than when he was going to get home.
The morning came and you were sat at a table in the coffee shop when you heard the door open for the australian.
“Hi!” she walked towards you displaying her arms for a hug.
You were engulfed by her muscles as she squeezed, “How’re you?” you questioned knowing something was up because she doesn’t usually hug you.
“Almost broke my clavicle last night but I’m good,” she chuckled rubbing on the bone, “how about you?”
“I’m doing okay,” you couldn’t lie to her, “there’s been some ups and downs but everything is good.”
“That’s okay,” she gestured towards the register.
Both of you waited in line talking about random things, ordered and went outside to sit.
“A little birdie told me you were back with your ex?” Rhea wasn’t one to dance around a subject.
You faked a laugh, “yeah,” was all you could say.
She took a sip, “and how’s that going?”
“It’s… good I guess. I’ve made some rules with him about his whereabouts and texts but nothing too crazy,” you took a drink to hide the awkwardness. You knew that she knew what had happened by the way she asked the question so you didn’t want to bore her with the details again.
“Yeah? Well that’s good, but you really should be trusting of your significant other you know,” her accent was calm but strong.
“I do!”
She threw you a look.
“To a point,” you cleared your throat, “He’s just so…” you balled your fists in front of her, “good.”
She rolled her eyes, “that shouldn’t be the reason that you should stay with him,” she took another sip to let that sit in the air, “there are other people that would kill to be with someone like you.”
“I know, I know. But I like having a man around you know? It makes me feel safer knowing that he’s there,” you smiled but your subconscious knew that it was a fake smile.
“Right,” her tone was stern, “have you even tried to find someone else?”
“Yeah!”
Another look.
“Okay fine, no I haven’t because every time I think I’m done with him and download a dating app, he comes crawling back.”
“Oh my god. You can’t keep going back to him,” her eyes were piercing into yours.
“I know, but he’s so kind and caring when he’s not in someone else’s bed,” you rolled your eyes as you sat back in your chair swirling the cup.
“Well,” Rhea sighed as she mirrored your movements, “have you…ever thought about being with a woman?” again, not one to beat around the bush.
“What!? No. I couldn’t. I don’t even know what to do with myself sometimes, let alone another woman,” you said nervously.
“Have you even tried it?”
“Well no, but-”
“Exactly. So,” the tattooed legs crossed, “leave him and find you a woman,” she smirked.
You were taken aback at her bluntness but you shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Are you…asking me on a date Ripley?”
“Not unless you want me to. As if you haven’t thought about it,” she chuckled.
“No, I mean- I like you but not like that,” you waved away her response. Well, maybe you could be with a woman, you thought. No! No… well…
“Uh huh,” she let you work it out for yourself for a minute before she brought you back in, “let me know the next time he cheats,” she snarls as she stands. “I have to get back to training,” as she pushed her chair in.
You looked at her in confusion at the sudden change in energy, “okay,” you stand and walk over to give her another awkward hug.
Though it was weird, she accepted. Holding you in place, she whispered in your ear, “Trust me, I can treat you much better…in and out of the bedroom.”
You let go of the hug as she smirked at you before she walked away. You watched her put her cup on top of the trash can by the food trays before walking towards her car.
“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself.
Not even a week passed and he went and cheated on you once more. You cried and screamed again as you finally walked out of the house for the last time. You sat in your car fumbling for your keys as you tried to call Rhea, “pick up, pick up, pick up,” you chanted between sobs.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” you sniffed, “Can I come over?”
You could feel her smirking her devilish smile behind the phone knowing she was saying ‘told you so’ to herself, “C’mon,” she said.
You sped over there and banged on the door.
“Damn, chill, the door didn’t cheat on you,” she opened the door but you pushed past her.
“Hey woah,” she closed it, locking it behind her, “sorry about the joke but-”
You threw your wallet and keys on the kitchen table as she followed you in as you cut her off with your finger, “don’t say you told me so because I already know, but you got in my head and now I can get you out,” you dropped your hand.
She confidently leaned herself on the counter, “Well,” she shrugged as she gestured to herself smirking.
“Stop it,” you slammed yourself down on a chair.
“I’m kidding! I am sorry that he cheated on you though…again,” she tried to hide her giggles.
“Rhea please,” you wiped your nose with a napkin that was neatly stacked in the middle of the table, “I know I’m dumb for going back to him but when it was good it was good, okay? It wasn’t just the sex even though it may seem like it,” you broke down again.
She immediately stopped feeling proud of herself and started feeling sad for you. She hated seeing you hurt but she knew that she had to be the voice of reason right now. She sighed as she sat across from you, rubbing your arm, “is there anything you need me to do?”
“Beat his ass?” you joked.
She laughed, “I don’t need a lawsuit, but I would if I could.”
You blew your nose then crumpled up the napkin, “Remember what you said at the coffee shop?”
“When?” she knew exactly when.
“When you hugged me. Did you mean it?”
“Oh…yeah,” she said casually as her muscular arms crossed leaning back in the chair.
“Could you-”
“You wanna do it right now?” her eyes widened, “yeah, no. What we are gonna do,” she stood, “is run you a shower for as long as you need, to get him off of you, use whatever you want in there, and then,” she pulled you out of the chair walking you to her bathroom, “we can talk about what happens next.”
“Okay,” as you stepped inside the bathroom.
You were in there for probably 45 minutes. You stepped out with a towel wrapped around you, your hair dripping with some left over eyeliner stuck on your eyes, but you didn’t care too much.
“Clothes are on my bed,” she shouted from the kitchen before she walked out with two glasses of wine, setting them on the coffee table.
You changed into one of her big tshirts and sweatpants, then joined her on the couch, “Thank you,” you said weakly.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll always be here for you. Now, did you think about anything specific you wanted to talk about?” she handed you the wine glass.
“Mm,” you took a sip, “I’m not sure how to word this,” you became embarrassed.
“Try your best,” her hand landed on your thigh as she turned to sit criss-cross facing you.
“How does it…work?” was the best you could do.
“How does what work?” her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
You bit your lips trying to muster up the courage but decided there was nothing left to lose, “sex…with a woman,” your face turned red.
“Oh!” she chuckled gently slapping her hand on your thigh, “the same as with a man but it’s more enjoyable and much hotter,” she winked.
“But there’s no-”
“There is, it’s just… silicone,” now Rhea’s face was a bit red but not for the same reason, “But there’s plenty other ways to get the job done.”
“Oh,” you blinked as your mind tried to figure it out.
She took another big sip, followed by a big sigh, “did you think of anything else? I know today’s been a lot so we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. And you’re more than welcome to stay the night if you need to, plenty of room,” she gave you a sincere smile.
“Not really,” you picked up your legs onto the couch and hugged them, “and thank you, we’ll see what happens,” you finish your wine.
“For sure,” she finishes hers too and gets off the couch. She gestured towards you silently asking if you want another, but you shook your head no, so she took your glass with her into the kitchen.
She came back out and sat back down in the same position.
“Thank you,” you said again.
“For what?”
“For being here.”
“Anytime,” her eyes were staring into yours, twinkling in the sunset light coming from the window. She looked so beautiful in this light, was it because she actually did or because you were heart broken, again, and you needed a distraction? Whatever it was, you made a quick decision.
So you cupped her face with your hand and gently kissed her. She easily fell into it but broke it off gently.
“Are you sure you want to start this? Because I won’t be able to stop,” she was sure of herself.
“Yes,” you tried to kiss her again but she backed away.
“Because I know you’re just doing this to feel as though you’re getting back at him. And I don’t want to be used as a distraction so I need to know if you actually want to go through with this,” she was calm but stern with her words, wanting to make sure you understood.
“Ever since, whatever we had back then, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I think he was the distraction from you,” the light bulb went off in your head as you said this, because it was true. Rhea always made you feel loved and appreciated no matter what.
Her mouth fell open slightly as she took in this new revelation, “Never thought of it that way,” she cleared her throat.
“So yes, I want to go through with this. Mainly because I want to see if you can keep your promise,” you smirked.
“Ah ah, I didn’t promise anything,” she pointed, “but I can definitely prove it.”
“Then prove it, teach me the ways,” you tried to think of anything else to say but it came out before you could stop it, “of lesbian sex.”
“Please don’t ever say that again,” she scoffed.
“Sorry,” you hid your face.
“You should be, that was weird.”
“Yeah, oops,” you chuckled.
“So, you sure you want to go through with this because,” she cocked an eyebrow and smirked as she shrugged, “I’m pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“Alright alright, calm down,” you smiled putting your hand up to stop her. You took a deep breath and took a second to think about everything, “I want to do it.”
“Finally,” the wrestler breathed as she grabbed your face and smashed your lips together. It wasn’t like you haven’t kissed her before, but it was different this time. There was yearning and lust and you wanted more of it.
Small moans came from the both of you as your hands glided up her bare thighs, prying at the edge of her booty shorts. Her hands moved to your waist to pull you closer but you decided to straddle her instead.
“A little desperate, are we?” she guided your hips down onto her lap.
“Sshhh,” as you kissed her again. Now her hands were gliding on your thighs. After a few moments, her hands found their way under your, well her shirt, and felt up your back pulling you in tighter. You arched your back into her with a low whine. Her nails dug into your back sending shockwaves through your body and directly to your core.
You gently began to grind your hips and she took the opportunity to put her hands on your ass and guide you through it. Moaning into the kisses, you ran your hand through her hair while the other kept your balance on the back of the couch.
She snuck one of her hands to the front of the waistband playing with it, “can I…”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, you were nervous but you’ve never felt safer.
She slowly slipped her hand underneath and began to gently caress your hot center with just a layer of fabric separating her hand from you.
“Shit,” you whined.
“You okay?” she caught your gaze.
“Mhmm,” you bit your lip.
Drawing small gentle circles on your sensitive bud, your hips jerked a bit as you let out a small whimper. You tried to cover it by kissing her again.
“Don’t hold back,” she whispered, “It’s hot.”
You were still weary but thankful she said something. So you nod in response before resting your head on her shoulder. Her pace had gotten faster now and you were riding her hand in perfect unison. “Mmmfuck,” you threw your head back.
You removed your hand from her hair to meet with hers in the sweatpants. You stopped her hand and moved it under the one layer that was blocking her. You removed your hand but she got the message immediately. She ran her fingers over your wet folds picking up what had been oozing out of you before going back to her pace.
You moaned as your head fell back onto her shoulder, breathing heavily. She twisted her head and started to kiss your neck before ever so slightly biting. Your moans became more frequent and the pressure was quickly beginning to rise.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-”
“Don’t say it…just do it,” her voice was deep in your ear.
And with that, the pressure released, “Oh GOD,” you yelled as you threw your head back once more. She kept her pace and let you ride it out.
After an about a minute she removed her hand, “you okay?”
You were breathing heavily into her neck, “yeah,” as you sat up.
“Good because we’re not done yet,” and she easily picked you up carrying you to her room and onto her bed. She set you down gently, “totally up to you, but on a scale of one to ten, how rough-”
“Seven,” you blurted out a little too quickly.
“Hm,” she stood above you with her hands on her hips, “so what do you…”
“Oh, uhm,” your face turned redder than it was. You never had this conversation with your ex he just kinda did what he wanted, “I’m… not sure.”
“Do you like when someone talks you through it?”
You thought about it, “yes.”
“Do you like being praised or no?”
You thought again but longer this time, “I’m not sure.”
“We can try both and see what happens,” she said casually, “What about choking?”
“Oh yeah for sure,” you didn’t have to think about that one.
“Okay,” she chuckled, “obviously you’re a pillow princess.”
You acted surprised, “how’d you know?”
“I could tell,” she laughed. “Are you okay to start again?” her tone became serious.
You readjusted your position, placing your hands in your lap neatly, “Yes ma’am.”
“Ooh, I like that,” she cooed. “Now get comfy, princess,” as she pointed to the pillows behind you.
So you scooted back a bit and laid down on the bed. You watched as she crawled menacingly on top of you. The tattooed hand slid up your torso and to your neck turning your head to the side and holding it in place. She ran her tongue up your neck, sending a shiver through your body. Your hands were carefully placed on her sides just to have something to hold on to.
She kissed down your jaw, to your mouth before making eye contact with you, “Anything he could do, I can do better,” she growled.
You couldn’t say anything you were so turned on now. Never in a million years did you think you would be in this situation. So you smiled devilishly in response.
“Promise,” she tacked on before going back to your neck. She sat up and tugged at the waistband of the sweat pants, “Can I take these off?”
“You can do anything you want,” you finally admitted.
“Don’t tell me that,” she smirked.
“I’m serious,” your tone was stern as you caught her icy blue eyes with yours.
Her eyes flicked up and down your body, “okay,” her voice graveled.
She easily slipped the pants off of you but you took it a step further and took the shirt off too, leaving you in nothing but underwear.
She was surprised but her energy quickly changed. Her eyes filled with hunger as she looked over your body taking in every inch. It didn’t take long for her to spread your legs to begin to kiss on your thighs.
You whimpered at her touch as your hands flew to her hair, holding it out of her way. Kissing her way up your thighs, moving from one to the other with every other peck, she looked at you as she landed one on your soaked center.
You moaned catching her gaze as she smiled into another kiss. You writhed under her as she continued to touch everywhere but where you needed her most. You were over it so you pushed her head away.
“What-”
“Just,” you threw off your underwear as quickly as possible, “fucking go for it, please.”
“I thought I was teaching you?” she joked.
“Please, please, just fuck me,” you begged.
“So desperate,” she said slyly.
“God, please Rhea,” you were basically whining at this point.
“I don’t know, I like hearing you beg,” she smoothed her hands over your thighs.
You did whine a little, gently hitting your fists on the bed, “Ugh! Pleeaase!!”
She scoffed before she dove her head back down. Her tongue smoothed over your wet folds immediately.
You gasped, “fuck, yesss,” as you picked up your legs, folding at the knees.
She held your hips in place as her tongue worked its magic. She hummed into you, causing your body to shiver again at the vibrations. She skillfully flicked her tongue over your clit before lapping you up again.
The noises coming out of you were something you didn’t think would happen but you let them come anyway. Moans and whines filled the room as she continued. The knot inside of you returned, causing you to ride her face.
She smiled into your movements holding you tighter. She kept her pace steady as your hips jerked against her, “shit…ffffuck,” you moaned. Just a few more moments and you were coming once again. You yelled in pleasure as she forced your legs open to stop you from suffocating her, she didn’t stop though, letting you finish out your high.
Once you came down, she kissed her way up to your mouth, “you taste so…” she thought about it, “delicious,” and kissed your mouth. You could taste yourself against her but you didn’t mind. She was right, she was doing everything better than he was.
“I think you’re ready to turn it up a notch, yeah?” she said as she slinked off of you and went to the closet.
You covered your eyes with your hands trying to think of what she meant. You couldn’t believe you were here with her of all people. THE Rhea Ripley, pleasing you, making you feel safe, giving you everything you need and more. You were afraid you were in love with her.
The door clicked open, “Close your eyes,” she said before walking out.
“Okay,” your hands fully covered your eyes now as you heard her walk towards you, then felt her crawl onto the bed above you once more.
“Don’t peek,” she said as she felt you up once more, running her hands over your hot skin. She slid them up your torso and to your breasts, gently running her thumb over your nipples. Your back arched into her touch. She maneuvered herself between your legs, “such a pretty sight.”
Another shockwave went through your body as you heard those words, you didn’t know you liked praise until this moment.
“You liked that, huh?”
“Mhmm,” you tried to remove your hands.
“Nuh uh, I said no peeking,” she started to draw small circles on your clit again with her thumb, “you’ve been such a good girl…”
You whimpered into her touch, arching your back a bit.
“But I’d like to see you,” her tone became harsh, “be a slut,” and she pressed harder into you.
“Fuck,” you whined.
“Good to know you liked that too,” her fingers danced at your entrance before easily pushing inside of you.
You slammed your hands onto the bed gripping onto the sheets as you arched your back, “FUCK,” you screamed.
She slowly pumped her fingers in and out of you holding one of your thighs open. She kept her steady pace watching you squirm at her touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes but you could feel her staring.
“You’re doing so well for me,” she purred.
You moaned at her praise, hearing her deep chuckle in response. She picked up her pace gradually until she was satisfied, and stayed like that for a few minutes.
As more whines fell out of you, you barely noticed her moving into a different position on top of you until she pulled her fingers out, “Look,” was all she said.
So you fluttered your eyes open, “holy fuck,” you breathed as you watched her suck her fingers clean. But what really caught your eye was what she was wearing: a strap.
“Don’t worry, you can take it, easy,” as she lined it up with your dripping entrance. But first she picked up your legs and folded you in half, “You ready princess?”
“Fuck yes,” you groaned.
She smiled as she guided it into you slowly, letting you get used to it.
“Yessss god…Holy fuck,” you moaned when she started to slowly pump in and out of you.
“You okay?” she reassured.
“Never better,” you choked out.
“Thought so,” she smirked. Quickly picking up the pace, “Bet he never made you feel this good, huh?”
“N-never,” your eyes were in the back of your head.
She was now plunging into you at an ungodly pace, “too bad he never got to see how good of a slut you are.”
The praise mixed with degradation was driving you insane, and she was right. He never treated you this well and you loved every second of it and she could tell too. Your tits were bouncing, your eyes were rolled and your legs were shaking. She was hitting you just right, “Oh god, Rhea!” you whined.
She loved hearing you say her name. She was enjoying the view as much as you were enjoying her. The bed began to squeak as she pounded into you. One of her hands snuck its way around your legs and to your neck, gently squeezing around it. Your hand gripped her wrist as you smiled devilishly at her.
“Be a good girl and cum for me, princess,” she huffed.
“Go…faster,” you choked out.
“Such a fucking whore,” she barked, but she grabbed your calves with either hand and pushed your legs father down, completely folding you in half. She took a deep breath and began to pound into you so hard and so fast that you lost your breath.
“YES,” you screamed and after a few more seconds, “FU-U-U-UCKK!!” and you came again. But that didn’t slow her down.
She kept her insane pace, “C’mon baby…one more,” she demanded, “I know you got it in you.”
Whimpering at every push into you, it didn’t take long to the pressure to rise again, “OH FUCK, YESS…GOD, RHEA,” and once again, you came but this time your whole body shook and your legs fell weak under her.
She finally slowed her pace and gently pulled out of you. Your body fell limp as she slid off of you smiling and breathing heavily.
You caught your breath, “four times,” you rested your hands on your forehead, “four…times.”
“I never break my promises.”
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As someone who is very much into (indie and niche) fragrance and Pirates of the Caribbean, here are my scent picks for some characters absolutely nobody asked for:
Elizabeth Swann: Juliette Has A Gun - Vanilla Vibes (Sea salt, natural vanilla absolute, orchid absolute, absolute brown musk, bezoin absolute, sandalwood, tonka bean)
This is basically just a salty vanilla perfume and I’m all here for it; it’s beachy, light and totally pre-Pirate King Elizabeth.
For more of an indie choice, I’d pick Death & Floral’s “I could never stay long enough on the shore” (sand, salty air, smoke, cold coastline). It’s been a while since I’ve smelled this one but it feels fitting. But tbh, any white floral scent would also fit CotBP Elizabeth - so maybe something like Cloon Keen’s Lá Bealtaine.
Pirate King Elizabeth would absolutely rock something challenging like Beaufort’s Terror & Magnificence (birch tar, black pepper, saffron, incense, tobacco, papyrus, haitian vetiver, myrrh, labdanum, benzoin and pebbles).
Will Turner: Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab - Asleep in the Deep (black plum, sea salt, opium tar accord, labdanum, and indigo benzoin)
Basically the dark and heavy counterpart to Elizabeth’s Vanilla Vibes, truly smells like you’re on the Dutchman in between realms.
Jack Sparrow: For Jack, I feel like anything remotely boozy with rum notes works, but if I had to name one scent, I’d pick Stranger Perfumery’s Cigar Rum (raisin, dried fruits (prune and cherry), rum absolute, mandarin, amber, tobacco, oakwood, vetiver, resins, labdanum absolute, seaweed absolute). Maybe layer that with a dirt single note or Fantôme - Bune (damp subterranean air, nagarmotha, smooth cave walls, davana, a cold marble altar, & glittering green dragon scales) for authenticity lol.
Hector Barbossa: Solstice Scents - Headmaster (Apple, bourbon, oak, cedar, pipe tobacco, applewood, amber, spices)
I just felt like I needed to pick a spicy, woody scent with apple notes in it. But any dark aquatic works too.
James Norrington: I associate James with any light aquatic or clean scents (at least when he’s not in his Scruffington Era), so I’d choose something like Solstice Scent’s Gulf Breeze (Saltwater, sand, seashells, sea oats, rain, ambergris (vegan accord).
Cutler Beckett: Histoires de Parfums - 1740 (bergamot, mugwort, patchouli, coriander, cardamom, cedar, birch, labdanum, leather, vanilla, elemi, helichrysum)
Idk, this is just giving off Cutler Beckett energy. It’s boozy, it’s rich, it’s dramatic.
And somehow The House on Widow’s Hill (brandy, old oak paneling, dusty thick carpets, a thread of incense & a roaring fire in the hearth) by Pulp Fragrance also fits. That one’s basically brandy, smoke and dusty carpets in a bottle. On second thought, that might also work for Papa Swann.
I also feel like a tea scent would suit Beckett, but only if it’s a bit heavier, so maybe something like Gris Charnel by bdk (fig, black tea, cardamom essence, iris absolute, bourbon vetiver, indian sandalwood, tonka bean absolute). …But I haven’t smelled that one in a while too.
Davy Jones: Zoologist - Squid (Pink Pepper, Solar Salicylate, Incense, Black Ink Accord, Salty Accord, Opoponax, Ambergris, Benzoin, Musk)
Pretty self-explanatory. On my skin, it’s very musk-forward though.
Ian Mercer: Beaufort - Tonnerre (smoke, gunpowder, blood, brandy, sea spray and citrus)
…Yeah, I guess that one’s also pretty self-explanatory.
Yup, that’s it. Make of that what you will.
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phant0mmm-jaiden · 16 days
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‼️I NEED YOUR HELP MAKING FITTING BIRTHDAYS FOR THE GANG‼️
i got deep into making up set ages for characters that lack them, and also set years they joined the gang (it started bcs i needed to know whose there at the point my OC is so i can write her backstory, and now here we are)
I’m basing it mostly on zodiac signs bcs that’s like the easiest was to get a personality vibe and i can narrow down the specific date from there
but also i don’t care, ill take anything if it makes sense JSKDJFN
BELOW CUT IS EVERYTHING I HAVE RN, FEEL FREE TO ADD COMMENTS WITH UR THOUGHTS, I’LL TAKE ANY THOUGHTS FOR ANY CHARACTER (I DONT CARE IF THEY ALREADY HAVE STUFF FILLED IN BCS MAYBE YOURS ARE BETTER) AND I'LL TAKE ANY THOUGHTS FROM AGES, BIRTH YEARS, JOIN YEARS, BIRTH MONTHS, BIRTH DAYS, HOWEVER SPECIFIC YOU WANNA BE I’LL TAKE <33
(source for all traits is zodiacsign.com, idk it helps me be narrow down a specific day🤷‍♀️)
DUTCH VAN DER LINDE
- Founding member, for 23 years (1876, when he was 21)
- 44 in May 1899
- Born April 11th 1855 (Aries)
Positive April 11 traits: “Assertive, strong and remarkably passionate, they will burn every obstacle in their way if they have something to strive for. They are excellent workers and managers, showing initiative with just enough tact to be loved by a team they work in.”
Negative April 11 traits: “Preoccupied with their own problems, they could fail to see what their friends and close people are going through. Self-centered, too feisty, ready for battle when it isn't necessary, reactive, and sometimes aggressive when they should remain calm.”
HOSEA MATTHEWS
- Founding member, for 23 years (since 1876, when he was 32)
- 55 in May 1899
- Born October 22 1844 (Libra)
Positive Oct 22 traits: “Warm, open for emotional contact, and nurturing, they are tender and kind to those they love and treat everyone with enough empathy to resolve issues at hand. Their emotional sensitivity is their greatest strength.”
Negative Oct 22 traits: “Covered in sadness, broken and depressed, they might lose faith if they don’t give themselves time to rest and regenerate from past experiences. Tied by stories of their ancestors, they could simply play parts of others without getting truly invested in their own life and their happiness.”
ARTHUR MORGAN
- In gang for 23 years (since 1876,when he was 13)
- 36 in May 1899
- Born September 30th 1863
Positivity Sep 30 traits: “Truthful, powerful, deep and ready to commit to issues that are too painful for other people, they have the power to change the unchangeable and build a sense of magic in their life that allows them to attract and control their own destiny and heal others of prejudice.”
Negative Sep 30 traits: “Depressed or lost in what they’ve been taught, they could be too scared to get out of their usual directions and choices in life, getting stuck in mental activities that keep them unsatisfied, egocentric or grumpy.”
SUSAN GRIMSHAW
- In the gang for 14 years (since 1885, since she was 29)
- 45 in 1899
- Born March 27th 1856 (Aries)
Positive March 27 traits: “Standing out, innovative and wide in perception of the world, they are good friends and tend to build a social circle that can support them in their path. Free to shine and give freedom to other people.”
Negative March 27 traits: “Stressed, torn between extremes, their mood changes without warning. They can get aggressive if too much anger builds up, unsure how they will react or what their next move will be.”
JOHN MARSTON
- In gang for 14 years (since 1885, when he was 12)
- 26 in May 1899
- Born August 3rd 1873 (Leo)
Positive August 3 traits: “Straightforward, on the move, and wide in their opinions, they are the travelers with a cause, those who share their views and their knowledge selflessly, and wish to give their energy to those willing to follow.”
Negative August 3 traits: “Stubbornly chasing after things that aren’t real, they could get stuck in a loop of disappointment and mental efforts that won’t lead them where they wish to go.”
SIMON PEARSON
- In the gang for 13 years (since 1886, since he was 35)
- 48 in 1899
- Born December 16th 1851 (Sagittarius)
Positive Dec 16 traits: "Laughter, positivity, and a fun personality ordain those born on December 16th for as long as they are in tune with their talents. Emotionally charged, they stay on the move, give love to be loved, and understand how to create balance when they find themselves falling into an extreme."
Negative Dec 16 traits: "Lost in confusion of relating with others, they absorb atmospheres, feelings and ultimately opinions of others, thinking that their personality is defined by what others see instead of feeling their own core of Self."
LEOPOLD STRAUSS !!
In the gang for 12 years (since 1887, since he was 41)
53 in 1899
Born in September 10th 1846 (Virgo)
Positive Sep 10 traits: "Deep, intelligent and extremely powerful, they are focused and dedicated to the higher truth and find change satisfying, without fear of what tomorrow might bring. They bring order to large things in the lives of people around them and announce change everywhere they go."
Negative Sep 10 traits: "Obsessive, possessive and jealous, they can get dismissive of other people's ways and unwilling to recognize their own shadows while judging others. When bruised, they may become vindictive or manipulative."
UNCLE
- In the gang for 11 years (since 1888, since he was 43)
- 57 in 1899
- Born May 6th 1842 (Capricorn)
Positive May 6 traits: “Loving, creative, good with children, they are positive individuals with a lot of energy to live life to the fullest. Humorous, smiling, and grounded, they search for a place to belong to and connect easily to other people.”
Negative May 6 traits: “Unaware of the bigger picture, too focused on problems when they become aware of them, they can get obsessive and go into negative details for days. At times superficial in search for pleasure, but only if their heart isn’t open for relating.”
JOSIAH TRELAWNY
- In the gang for 9 years (since 1890, since he was 31)
- 40 in 1899
- Born May 26 1859 (Gemini)
Positive May 26 traits: “Loving, emotional, kind and caring, they are the messengers of beauty and laughter, humorous enough to make a grown person turn into a little child if this is their intent.”
Negative May 27 traits: “Using the power of words for strange things, unsatisfied and unable to find balance between emotion and reason, they get lost waiting and thinking about times when they were actually free while missing opportunities to set free in the now.”
ORVILLE SWANSON
- In the gang for 8 years (since 1891, since he was 38)
- 46 in 1899
- Born November 29th 1853 (Sagittarius)
Positive Nov 29 traits: "Idealists with a cause, they dream big and aren’t afraid to try themselves out in talents that make them who they are. On the quest for inner truth, they are sensitive, empathic and honest about the way they feel with people they love."
Negative Nov 29 traits: "Seeking attention and unable to untangle issues that keep them intoxicated or tied to the past, they could get lost, searching for ways to anesthetize that pain and forget what bruised them in the first place."
BILL WILLIAMSON
- In the gang for 5 years (since 1894, since he was 28)
- 33 in May 1899
- Born in April 27th 1833 (Taurus)
Positive April 27 traits: “Strong-hearted individuals, filled with vigor and energy for things that make them feel passionate. They are different but social, well-incorporated into society, and make excellent friends who find humanitarianism and compassion to be everything that is right in the world.”
Negative April 27 traits: “Sloppy, unsure what they wish to do with their energy and frustrated with their own nature. In opposition to themselves, they are unable to heal their own inner differences, becoming frustrated and passively angry at other people.”
ABIGAIL ROBERTS
- In the gang for 5 years (since 1894, since she was 17)
- 22 in 1899
- Born October 20th 1877 (Libra)
Positive Oct 20 traits: “Deeply emotional and empathic, if they keep their heart open throughout changes in their life, they become healers and incredible support in times of crisis and all possibly dangerous situations in the lives of others.”
Negative Oct 20 traits: “Casting their feelings away, they could become cold, distant, too difficult to relate to, and vindictive. They need a strong foundation to grow from and won’t be at all pleasant if they don’t learn to regenerate and flow with the beat of their heart.”
JAIDEN COHEN (my character )
- In the gang for 5 years (since 1894, since she was 23)
- 28 in 1899
- Born December 5th 1871 (Sagittarius)
Positive Dec 5 traits: “Witty, fun to be around, finding their way through the largest of social groups, they are the ones to speak their mind and say what everyone needs to hear, and those who boost confidence in others.”
Negative Dec 5 traits: “Talking too much, unreliable and insecure, they might turn to dishonesty to get out of troubling situations. They get distracted by too many things that spark their interest and don’t keep their focus and move in tune with greater priorities they have.”
KAREN JONES !!
- In the gang for 4 years (since 1895, since she was 21)
- 25 in 1899
- Born June 12th 1874 (Gemini)
Positive Jun 12 traits: "Emotional, sensitive, compassionate and willing to listen, they are less rational than other Gemini representatives and this gives them more space for relating and reaching for the Divine Love."
Negative Jun 12 traits: "Moody, torn between different roles and too adaptable to people and situations that don’t make them feel good. They get self-destructive when unable to deal with their own emotional baggage."
JAVIER ESCUELLA
- In the gang for 4 years (since 1895, since he was 22)
- 26 in May 1899
- Born August 13th 1873 (Leo)
Positive Aug 13 traits: “Energetic, focused visionaries, ready to act with initiative and clarity of ideals, they are the ones to fight for the cause and move forwards when others would stay behind. They are warm, passionate people, ready to learn new things and move one step ahead of the rest of the world.”
Negative Aug 13 traits: “Feeling as if they were all mighty, they often get caught up in their own ambitions and strivings, expecting nothing less than perfect from their ways of expression and battles that might be impossible to win.”
JACK MARSTON !!
- In the gang for 4 years (since 1895, since he was born)
- 4 in 1899
- Born ()() 1895
MARY-BETH GASKILL
- In the gang for 3 years (since 1896, since she was 20)
- 23 in 1899
- Born March 3th 1876 (Pisces)
Positive Mar 3 traits: “Great learners, teachers, and healers, they find love and beauty in everything they see and touch. It is their talent to use their optimism and beliefs, and turn every negative thing and experience to art, acceptable fate, and a step to a brighter future.”
Negative Mar 3 traits: “In denial, distant, lost, they can be wanderers that cannot find the right direction to move in. Their defense mechanism protecting them from hardship is delusion.”
TILLY JACKSON !!
- In the gang for 3 years (since 1896, since she was 17)
- 20 in 1899
- Born ()() 1879
MOLLY O’SHEA !!
- In the gang for 2 years (since 1897, since she was 22)
- 24 in 1899
- Born () () 1875
SEAN MACQUIRE
- In the gang for 1 year (since 1898, since he was 22)
- 26 in May 1899
- Born July 23rd 1873 (Leo) (sign rec from anon)
Positive July 23 traits: “Optimistic, with a fine sense of humor and ready to chase off any negative emotions with their smile, they are positive, loving and supportive of those they care for. Travelers and teachers, they have something important to give to the world.”
Negative July 23 traits: “Scattered and pushed by too many beliefs they never questioned, they tend to spin in circles of negative choices, lost in their inability to receive as much as they give away or vice versa.”
CHARLES SMITH
- In the gang for 9 months (Since August 1898, since he was 26)
- 27 in May 1899
- Born November 1st 1872 (Scorpio)
Positive Nov 1 traits: “Centered, standing firm on their identity and seeing the light in others, they make wonders in therapeutic and supportive relationships with those who are insecure and find it hard to stand confident on their own two feet. Strong-willed and ready to learn, they are the ones to lead the way when their beliefs are set in place.”
Negative Nov 1 traits: “Getting lost among strong individuals meant to inspire them, they give up on their true role due to lack of belief in their own emotional world and their personal convictions. This could get them lost and put their talents to waste out of the need to prove themselves worthy.”
LENNY SUMMERS
- In the gang for 9 months (since 1898, since he was 19)
- 19 in 1899
- Born June 5th 1880 (Gemini)
Positive June 5 traits: “Childlike, curious, excited about life and focused on their daily sources of happiness, they are humorous and always with a nice thing to say in just the right moment.”
Negative June 5 traits: “In need of a different view, they could get stuck in patterns that don’t give much room for personal growth. If their hearts close, they become superficial and uncaring for the wellbeing of those who aren’t in their closest social circle.”
MICAH BELL
- In the gang for 4 months (Since December 1898)
- 39 in May 1899
- Born January 1 1860 (Capricorn)
Positive Jan 1 traits: “Powerful and resourceful individuals with an incredible potential for a successful life, influential and knowing exactly where they belong. They are assertive, strong-willed, with a deep understanding for natural development of any issue at hand.”
Negative Jan 1 traits: “Inventors and great minds that turn to solitude and separate from the ideal of emotional fulfillment. Manipulative, they may be using questionable methods to reach their goals.”
SADIE ADLER
- In the gang for a few months (since May 1899, since she was 25)
- 25 in 1899
- Born July 4th 1874 (Cancer)
Positive July 4 traits: “Focused on their goal point, ambitions and understanding the consequences of their deeds, they are strong, endurable and extremely reliable as friends and confidants.”
Negative July 4 traits: “Dark and filled with depressing thoughts, they can get pulled by negative emotions, memories they don’t know how to metabolize, and nostalgic turns that pull them into harmful circumstances that weaken their boundaries.”
KIERAN DUFFY
- In the gang for a few months (since May 1899, since he was 28)
- 28 in 1899
- Born ()() 1871
THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP ‼️
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avatar-anna · 1 year
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hi i know u said u had writers block and i have this idea for a blurb/fic idk if you take requests and please delete this if you hate it BUT i’m terrible at writing and can’t get this idea out of my head, mua/yn and harry are secretly dating, some of the crew figure it out as tour goes on but fans start to notice a girl at every show who’s wearing like subtly matching outfits to harry and that’s how people find out they’re together, i just think it’d be such a cute concept AND maybe H doesn’t realise at first and she won’t tell him till he notices and she gets all shy when he asks her about it 🥺
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so, i actually already have a makeup artist!y/n. it was one of the first fics i'd ever written on this page. so i just kinda tried to do a continuation of it here. enjoy!
The Makeup Artist, Vogue Beauty Secrets, Painting H's Nails
"Five more minutes."
"You said that five minutes ago."
Harry pulled back, his swollen lips turned down into a pout. "Do you not want five more minutes? You're hurting my heart, here, lovie."
You giggled and booped Harry's nose before kissing his cheek. "I want all the minutes, baby. But I think I'm also the only one paying attention to how close we're getting to showtime. And I have a job too, you know."
Harry didn't say anything to your attempt at logic, just leaned in again, his nose nudging against yours until he finally kissed you. And even though you knew you should've already been setting up your makeup kit to get the band ready, you let him. It was hard to say no, it was hard to say anything when he kept licking the seam of your lips, urging you to give him what he wanted. You.
And because you were about as obsessed with him as he was with you, you gave in, pushing him deeper into his makeup chair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Harry grinned into the kiss, satisfied that you gave in.
"I'm gonna get fired for not doing my job," you mumbled a couple minutes later as he kissed his way up to your ear.
"By who? I'm technically the one that hired you," Harry replied with ease.
You rolled your eyes and pulled back just enough to hold his cheeks in your hands. "I have to get you ready."
He huffed. "It's not that much. We could even skip a couple steps. Save some time."
"I don't know about that," you said, brushing away a stray strand of his hair that had fallen in his face. "I was thinking about putting a little glitter on your chest, make it really sparkle under all those bright lights."
"I think you just want an excuse to rub your hands all over my chest."
"Well, duh. I thought that was a given."
As far as gigs went, being Harry's makeup artist was pretty low maintenance. It had been that way from the start, though sometimes you delved into some fun pre-show skincare when he let you. The bulk of your job was mainly with the women of the band, who were more than happy to let you take creative liberties with their makeup each show, though today would have to be on the simple side seeing as Harry was currently holding you hostage in his dressing room.
You were the one who liked to really go all out for your boyfriend's shows. The girls in the Love Band still needed something functional, cohesive, and something that didn't stand out so much since Harry was technically the focal point. So if you had time, you went all out with your own makeup, sometimes matching your eyeshadow or blush to Harry's stage outfits.
As you tried to remove yourself from Harry's lap, his arms tightened around your waist. "Just one more, and then I'm good."
Sighing, you kissed your pouty boyfriend's forehead. "Oh, my love, it's never just one more kiss with you."
*.*
You were waiting for Harry by the side of the stage just before he was meant to go on. Some days you went to the tour bus to catch up on sleep during shows or napped in Harry's dressing room, but recently you'd been staying to watch him perform. You knew he appreciated it, and you enjoyed the high energy of being in the crowd and watching your boyfriend do what he loved (aside from kissing you senseless, of course).
"Is it just me, or are we matching?"
You turned toward where Harry was walking toward you, smiling as he looked you up and down. When he reached you, his arms snaked around your waist, his lips against your temple as he mumbled, "I love it."
Looking down at the denim vest and jeans you were wearing to tonight's show, you said, "What, this old thing? It's just something I threw together."
"I don't know whether I should love or hate how cute you guys are."
Spinning around while remaining in the circle of Harry's arms, you grinned sheepishly at Ny'Oh. "It's a coincidence, I swear."
She laughed and shook her head, not believing you for a minute. "Yeah? And what about all the other times?"
It was no secret that you and Harry were together, though this new leg of the tour came with some new crew members who didn't know Harry was dating Love on Tour's makeup artist. You always blushed furiously any time someone caught you holding hands or having a little lunch date at craft services or sharing a kiss in what you thought was a secret corner or hallway. You preferred to keep things low-key, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that you were technically dating your boss, but Harry didn't have any kind of reservations. He was more than comfortable with kissing your cheek and calling you pet names and holding you against his chest in front of everyone. On tour, that is. Outside of the confines of a venue or tour bus, you and Harry both agreed to keep your relationship private for now, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves.
"I think of it as a challenge," you said to Ny'Oh. "It takes skill to be this subtle yet just on the nose."
"A fine line, if you will," Harry added, grinning from ear to ear.
Shaking your head, you said, "Nope. That was too much. Even for me."
After exchanging a couple more laughs with Harry and the band as they prepared to go onstage, you kissed Harry good luck and left to go find your spot on the floor to watch the show. You preferred to watch with the rest of the audience, though Harry always made sure you were within arm's reach of a security guard at all times. Just in case.
Walking to your spot a few paces from the barricade, you admired the wide array of colorful outfits and costumes fans wore. It was why you loved being in the crowd. Seeing everyone all dressed up in feather boas and sparkly cowboy hats and homemade outfits that matched albums and songs. It was inspiring to see the space Harry's shows created, and to be part of it in a small way.
"Your makeup looks amazing!"
Turning to your right, you saw a group of girls, maybe in their late teens or early twenties. Each of them were dressed in a spectrum of glitter and heart sunglasses and merch, wide smiles on their faces as they waited for Harry to come out.
You'd gone for a pretty tame look. For you, anyway. Simple base makeup with a pretty blue eyeshadow and daisies that lined your crease and just beneath your lash line that took way longer than they should've. But the result was just how you wanted it, so you couldn't really complain.
"Thank you," you said to the girl who spoke. She was dressed in a pair of jeans outlined in sequins, a shirt with Canyon Moon lyrics tucked in as a crop top. She also had her makeup done, her eyes and cheeks decked out in eyeshadow that shifted color in the light. "I like yours too."
You talked to the girls a little while longer, but when the lights died down and the song that signaled the show was about to start came on, the girls quickly said their goodbyes and faced the stage. Still, they were close enough that despite the commotion, you could hear them talking. About you.
"I swear, I've seen her before."
"So? Tons of people go to multiple shows."
"Yeah, but...I don't know. It feels like she's standing separate from the rest of us."
You smiled to yourself and tried to focus on the stage instead of eavesdropping on the conversation about you, which was forgotten the second the opening chords to Daydreaming began. The concert was like all the rest you'd been to, and yet you still weren't sick of it. Seeing Harry's smile and witnessing the sheer joy on his face as he performed made going to show after show well worth it.
And when he was in your section, he was always close enough to make eye contact, even wink as he sang certain lyrics, which would definitely earn him a smack on the arm later. But even so, it made your cheeks flush and your stomach flip with excitement. And Harry, who could read you like a book, grinned as he moved on to a different part of the stage.
"Did you see how he looked at her! He winked!"
"You sound crazy!"
Smiling to yourself, you shook your head. Maybe it was time to watch from backstage for a while.
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