#to me the only reason I have them was due to expectations and pressures from others

[kleeradragon]

There's an experience I have that I don't think I've ever seen talked about anywhere, and I'd like to go through it and see if there isn't anyone else who has experienced similar.

See, when I first discovered myself to be a dragon/otherkin/therian/nonhuman, I was of the spiritual sort because that's what felt expected. I didn't even know a psychological side to it existed until later. I got my share of memories and info about my supposed past life and whatnot as a result of this imposed expectation, and some of those memories were pretty unpleasant. Traumatic, even. But eventually I found out about the psychological side of things, and I wanted to take a more psychological approach to my nonhumanity. I didn't feel attached to that existence/past anymore, I suppose I never totally did, I took it all as it came. Cause y'know, expectations, perhaps looking for things that wouldn't otherwise be there.

Not long after that I moved away from a nonhuman identity due to community issues and a general lack of feeling for it, only to return to it a couple years later when feelings for it came back in full force. And in digging around for those feelings, I had to ponder my old kin memories that I no longer necessarily believe in. Through that I realized that they still affect me like any trauma would, even after years of not believing those memories to be real. Now, sure, one can say that coping with trauma in a not-so-great way isn't gonna make the hurt go away. I totally get that. But these memories, false or not, did not happen to me directly, even if they may feel as such. There's a degree of separation. Couple that with the amount of time it's been since I gave much thought to them… I just thought and hoped that maybe that would be enough.

Either because those false memories still affect me, or because it's just what I was so used to thinking back in the day, sometimes I still slip back into thinking of my dragon self as a past life. All of this together makes it so hard to really tell whether my draconity is psychological or spiritual, even if it is a choice of belief in the end. I prefer the psychological approach -- that's just the sort of person I am. But the expectations from the past, and their resulting feelings and potentially-false memories complete with exotrauma, make it hard to let go of the notion of having been a dragon in a past life. It feels like those things really happened because that's what the memories were unintentionally crafted to do, because that was the expectation. These things make it so complicated and blurry what exactly the nature of my nonhumanity is.

My point of saying all this is to ask: has anyone else had a similar experience? Of having past life memories they don't necessarily still believe are true but can't shake? And if anyone has figured out a way to shake them… would you be willing to share how you did so? Definitely definitely would love to hear!

[lizzieisright]

AUUH okay I know it’s tuff and all for the writing so I wouldn’t expect this to be done automatically it’s just whenever you get the chance😭🙏 bratty omega Abby? i could just see her being a brat badly and reader puts her in her place

I've also got a req for the heat/rut sync and Abby's moodiness fits in perfectly. She is such a brat once she knows she can rile you up I love her.

female alpha!reader x omega!abby

Palestine: what can you do

Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, heat/rut sync, rough sex, pregnancy scare, brat!Abby.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It's not common for heats and ruts to sync - so you two for some stupid reason don't check your tracking apps to see when you're due. 

You know Abby's heat is coming up because she is moody: she is grumpy and frustrated and gets irritated if you don't understand her puzzling demands. It doesn't upset you - you let her have her space and be as moody as she wants. 

For some reason, it only makes her more moody. Abby is frowning as she watches you fold your laundry.

“You're doing it wrong.” She complains and you chuckle. 

“Do you want to do it?”

“No, I want you to do it right. Slacks belong on a rack. You folded them and you'll look like an embarrassing fool when you put them on.”

You chuckle, but it's not a good chuckle: you can't help but to feel challenged by your own omega. Abby starts to notice how your presence pressures her into submission, but she just gets more irritated with you. 

“Anything else?” You ask and the dangerous undertone of your voice gets Abby excited. 

“You don't iron your clothes. It's annoying.” 

“Huh.” You press your lips together and Abby smells your anger. 

But you smell her arousal.

“Enjoying pushing my buttons?” Abby frowns like you said something stupid, but her scent spikes. “I can smell you.”

Abby huffs and gets up to walk out of the room, still trying to keep her irritated facade, but you catch her by her waist: you will not let it slide. 

“You don't get to walk away from me after being a brat.” Abby frowns but her cheeks flush red. She is caught.

“I'm not a fucking brat.” Abby tries to save her dignity. “You need to learn how to fold your clothes.” 

“Do I now? Or did you come up with an excuse to get me angry?” You graze her throat with your fangs and Abby folds. 

Her scent becomes thick and it hits you hard enough so you dig your nails into her waist, her pheromones pushing all of your instincts that are revved up on Abby's mood. You want to own her, to show Abby her fucking place and your brain just doesn't function anymore. You're not her nice gentle alpha now - you feel possessive and aggressive. 

“Bedroom, now.” You growl and Abby obediently guides you to your bedroom. 

You close the door and push Abby to the bed while she looks at you with her golden eyes and she is still fucking stubborn.

“Knees and elbows.” You order her and Abby listens. 

She presents herself to you: her spread glistening thighs with her swollen pussy on display. Abby turns her head to look at you and you growl: from this angle she looks so innocent, as if she wasn't being a bitch two minutes ago, and so inviting, begging to be filled and fucked properly.

You get on the bed and knead her ass, making Abby mewl, getting her desperate and frustrated - you feel it in her scent, her impatience. 

“You want something, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” Abby growls and it rips your self-control to shreds. Your eyes turn red and your scent gets worse, overpowering Abby. 

You grab her hair and press her head into the mattress, while you hold her waist with your other hand, making Abby arch and submit. Abby feels your jeans on her bare thighs and she rubs against you, not caring about anything anymore. 

“Don't fucking growl at me.” You say and Abby whines, falling into heat euphoria. 

“Please.” Abby begs, now definitely too turned on: she is ready to fucking cry. 

You hum and let go of Abby's hair, trying to get yourself under control. You sit back and watch Abby's hips wiggle, looking for any kind of relief, and you can't take it anymore, can't see Abby so stressed because she's not getting fucked. 

Two fingers slide in Abby easily and she moans, relieved. Abby can't keep her thighs up, her knees sliding in opposite directions, so you hoist her up by her hips and finally starts fucking her. You're still careful, but Abby is so wet and her cunt stretches so well around your fingers that you get more aggressive, almost taking your fingers out only to push them back to the hilt. Abby whines and grips her pillow, not knowing where to put herself: it feels so good, but she needs more. 

“I need you, please.” Abby chokes on her moan when you thrust particularly hard. Your pace gets quicker and then Abby feels another finger prodding her hole. “Oh my god, yes.”

“Look at this pussy, taking my fingers so well.” You marvel, watching your three digits fucking in and out of her. “You must be already close, tightening on me like this.”

Abby whines and snakes her hand to her clit, but you don't let her, pushing her hand away. Instead you lean down and suck on her clit, making Abby cum immediately. Abby shrieks and tries to close her thighs, but you keep fucking her anyway, until she taps her hand on your hip.

You slowly take your fingers out of Abby and kiss her ass cheek affectionately while you watch her cum drip on the covers. Your dick twitches and Abby whines when she sniffs how turned on you're, eager to satisfy you. Abby arches deeper, a clear invitation, and you growl, unbuckling your jeans and sliding them down enough for your cock to be free. 

You rub your dick on her wet, sensitive pussy and Abby growls again, too impatient for her own good. The slap on her ass cheek makes Abby twitch from sudden pain, but her scent spikes in arousal. 

“Cut it out.” You growl back and slap her other cheek, leaving a red handprint on her skin. 

Abby mewls and only gets wetter, pressing back into you. 

“Please.” 

“You can do better.” You huff and gently slap her cunt, making Abby jump. 

“Please-please-please, I need you, fuck.” Abby begs and you tap her pussy while she speaks just to rile her up. “Alpha, please!”

Abby hides her shriek in the pillow while you bottom out inside her, dragging your cock over her tight, sensitive walls. She is so wet and smells so fucking good, you just have to lean down and sink your teeth into her shoulder. Abby whimpers and bucks her hips, taking you even deeper, making you moan into her ear, and you both fall into full pheromone bliss. 

You slam your hips into Abby, pressing her head into the pillow so she wouldn't move, so she would submit, and she only sticks her ass out for you, submitting happily. You are mounting her now, covering Abby with your body, suffocating her with your scent, and Abby melts into the bed, whining and whimpering as you fuck her. Abby doesn't even try to think, fully lost in you, her only need is to be filled up and knotted now. 

“Alpha-” Abby sobs and pushes her arms by her sides to grab her underbutt and pull it apart, opening her drooling hole for you. You growl and slam into her harder: you don't control yourself anymore. 

You move your hand between Abby's shoulder blades to keep her pinned, but then you move enough so you could play with Abby's clit while you thrust into her relentlessly. 

“F-fuck-” You grunt when Abby tightens around you, making your pace stutter. “You're gonna be good? Gonna cum on my cock?”

Abby nods her head feverishly and mewls, her cunt flutters around you. 

“Good.” You growl and pick up your speed. You're so high on the pheromones, on the way Abby's pussy is so tight and hot around you, so you keep fucking her, pushing back inside her just to hear her little whimpers and feel her hot walls trap you. 

Abby coils and cums, filling your nose with her spiked scent, and you don't think anymore: you don't hear anything except Abby's pleas to knot her. You dig your nails into her hips and pull her back on your cock, and Abby jumps and twitches, but takes it. 

“Cum inside me, please.” Abby moans and you slam so hard into her Abby moves up on the bed, her poor pillow is under her tits now. 

“You'll look so good pregnant with my kids, Abby.” You pant. “Gonna be a good little omega and take my knot?” 

“Yes, please, yes!” Abby sobs and arches again, showing her submission, and it tips you over: you thrust into her, pushing your knot inside and Abby cums again, triggering your own orgasm when she pulsates around your knot. You growl and cum, filling Abby up. 

You both collapse on the bed and you bury your nose in Abby's neck, growling still. Your scent stops suffocating her and you both start to calm down. Your brain gets clearer in time with Abby's and suddenly you both smell of anxiety. 

“Fuck.” You sigh, not sure if you can touch Abby: you were so fucking rough with her. “Baby, how are you? I'm so sorry.”

“I'm fine, I'm good.” Abby says quickly, but she stinks of anxiety. “It's not that. You're in rut.”

You stop breathing. If you're in rut, and Abby is in heat, it-

“We fucked up.” Abby whispers, horrified. “I'm not on birth control.” 

You swallow, your heart heavy: you know what it means - it means Abby can get pregnant, since the syncs are the only times when an omega can get pregnant. You take a breath to keep calm for Abby's sake: you need to fix whatever upset her. You need to make her feel happy and safe, not scared and anxious. Thank god you can think for now, before your hormones fuck you over again. 

“Okay, baby, breathe. I'll go to the pharmacy and buy emergency pills.” You tell her gently and Abby nods. 

“What if they don't work? Fuck, what if I get pregnant?” The smell of anxiety intensifies and you really want to sneeze. 

“Then we will deal with it.”

“Will you leave me?” Abby sniffles.

You chuckle fondly: Abby is so cute during her heats. 

“Of course not. Summer wedding, remember?” You nuzzle into Abby's neck and carefully move to your side to make you two comfortable. “I'll be with you no matter what.” 

Abby sniffles again and smells of love, and you hug her tightly, your affection spilling out of you. 

“I didn't want to be so rough.” You say apologetically and Abby snorts. 

“I loved it. I knew someday I'd break you.” Abby smirks and you look dramatically shocked.

“So you planned it!”

“No, I was annoyed. But now I know I just need to growl at you and you'll do exactly what I want.” 

“Don't start now, I'm still kinda power crazy.”

“I'm going to have so much fun.” Abby giggles and you flick her nipple, making her yelp. 

“Yeah?” You purr dangerously and Abby shudders, clenches around your knot. “I will use my voice if you do it again.”

Abby bites her lips as her plan forms in her head. She is definitely growling at you again. 

It takes fifteen minutes for the knot to ease up and you run to the pharmacy, knowing you have fifteen minutes before you’re hit with the next wave. You stink, and people let you go first so you won’t bother them, and you run back home just in time. 

You don’t expect to be met with a very grumpy Abby: she sits on the bed in your t-shirt, frowning and pouting, her arms crossed on her chest. You blink at her, trying to guess her mood, but you have no idea what it is. 

Then she scrunches her face when she sees the pills in your hand, and her frown deepens. 

“No.”

You blink again.

“What do you mean “no”?”

“It’s our baby. I want to have our baby.” Abby crosses her arms tighter, defiant. 

Each word triggers your rut and you have to breathe through your mouth to calm down: you can’t just listen to your omega begging to have your baby, but you need to think with your bigger head right now.

“How about we go through this sync, and then if you still want a baby after, we will take it seriously, hm?”

Abby frowns, irritated. 

“Why can’t we have this baby? It’s already there!”

You hardly keep yourself from laughing: Abby is so fucking cute.

“Because this baby’s got irresponsible parents who will have them as an accident.”

“Okay. But only this time. I don’t want an accident baby. I want a planned baby.” 

Abby takes the pill and drinks water, while you sigh in relief - Abby might’ve been more stubborn. 

“It’s all your fault.” Abby says and you chuckle. 

“Instead of being a brat you can just beg like a good girl.” You offer her and Abby huffs. 

“You wish, alpha.” She mocks you. You smile.

Five minutes after Abby is begging and crying when you use your voice to tell her she is not allowed to cum. 

She is not the only one who is allowed to have fun.

[celaenaeiln]

Hello, hello! It's been a while!!! Hope you're well. I had this hc about how Batfam is susceptible to manipulation, but only if it's Dick doing it. Like the blind faith he commands, there will literally get everyone ready to get him what he wants without him actually having to do anything. Like of anyone asks for a reason: "Dick said so". That's enough.

Just wanted your opinion on this

Omg hello!!! It’s been so long!! I’m so happy to hear to hear from you again 😆💕❤️!!

Hc that Bruce being completely susceptible to all of Dick’s manipulations due to the sheer faith he has in him? ABSOLUTELY!!

It’s so friggin true I’m pretty sure this is borderline canon if not canon already!!

Because here’s the thing: from the dawn of Batman comics to now, through all the changes that have occurred, there has only been one thing that remains constant and that is the fact that Bruce trusts Dick unconditionally.

There are MULTIPLE scenarios where Bruce confides solely in Dick and he actually worries heavily when his only companion leaves:

The Brave and Bold (1955) Issue #197

"My only real friends know me as Batman...Dick, Alfred, Kathy Kane...except..what do I do when Dick graduates college...and Alfred retires...and Kathy gives up being Batwoman? What do I do...when I'm finally alone?"

Bruce...that's a whole lot of pressure and expectation to put on a kid a decade younger than you..

But the point still stands because Bruce needs Dick. In the beginning of the Batman comics, there wasn't even Alfred around. It was just Dick and Bruce and they lived in an entire mansion together by themselves and had dual responsibilities of Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne as well as Batman and Robin. It was quite literally only the two of them in their own world. They went on adventures you wouldn't believe and had things happen beyond people's wildest imaginations. The Golden Age was a fever dream that encompassed only the two of them. They didn't have anyone else and they didn't want anyone else.

Dick pulled Bruce out of one of the worst times of his life when he was just Robin and Bruce pulled Dick out of depression during his. This resulted in a unbreakable bond. It's a deep kind of unshakable, irreplaceable love and profound trust that they have in each other that the other will only and always be there for them in the worst of times of their lives and the happiest of ones as well.

It's that kind of devotion and attachment to each other that established their relationship for decades. Every single timeline has consistently kept this - "You're my only one." - kind of relationship between the two of them.

Batman (2011) Issue #2

Bruce knows that of everyone he's ever met, Dick will always be the one to know him and hear him.

There's another comic panel that stuck out to me too-

Titans (2008) Issue #1

"No one knows about them except Bruce, Alfred, Tim. Barbara knows about a few. And ofcourse me."

Bruce only trusts three people - Alfred, his current robin, and Dick.

So consistently and unconditionally, it only comes down to two people at ALL times. For another example, during Death Metal, when the entire Justice League is hunting down Batman and the Batfamily, Bruce would only entrust the deadliest weapon in the world to one person and the entire league knows it.

Dark Nights: Metal Issue #2

Bruce just has pure faith in Dick for everything. He is the one person that Bruce believes will never do any wrong and he's the one person he always believes and believes in. Period.

Titans: Beast World Issue #1

Whatever Dick decides, it's the final word.

So that is why Dick is the only person Bruce is susceptible to. He never questions Dick in the comics ever. He's questioned every single person he's ever worked with about their intentions but never Dick. So Dick tells him the world is ending then the world is ending for Bruce.

If Dick tells him that red is an awful tie color, then it's an awful tie color that Bruce will never wear.

If Dick tells him to slick his hair back, take a break, be more compassionate, have faith - Bruce will do anything and everything. And this has been proven time and time again for the most menial situations to the most serious ones.

While everyone looks up at Bruce for answers and orders, Bruce will look to Dick and what he says, that's what they'll all do.

And here's the thing - the entire superhero community doesn't rely just on Bruce for commands, Dick is shown to have an equal weight. A single person has the equivalent weight of the Justice League. They will do what Dick says regardless of what Bruce says.

But the point is Bruce's utter faith in Dick gives him privileges. Anything and everything Dick decides, that's the answer, logic, and light of very reasoning to Bruce because Dick is the very source of existence for Bruce. In Forever Evil he almost let the world die intentionally because he felt that there was nothing to the world if he couldn't save Dick. At times he's fought Dick over his personal choices but every single time, without fail, he comes back literally two issues later to tell him sorry and you're right and we're going to do it your way.

Dick could let the world burn to fucking ashes and Bruce would stand by and clap and praise him. That time in the Blockbuster arc? Where Dick passively killed a man and started self-harming? Bruce roughly grabbed his face, got real close, and told him in his darkest voice that he doesn't give a flying fuck who dies or who Dick kills. As long as Dick doesn't dare hurt himself.

Dick can tell Bruce anything he ever wants, lie or truth, big or small, and Bruce will believe it with no doubts and no questions asked. That is the weight of his faith in him. Of course if someone does ask why he chose to do something a certain way? He can just say, "Because Dick said so." And as you called it, that answer alone will be enough. For everyone.

Don't be fooled by Dick's submissiveness to Bruce's commands. Bruce is holding him by the neck, but he's holding Bruce's leash just as tightly.

[simjaeyvn]

best friend's brother

pairing: jake x reader

summary: who knew your bond with your best friend's brother was a lot closer than you thought.

warnings: pussy eating, vaping, mentions of smoking, idk

inhale and exhale, it was easy. you pull the vape from your now parted lips handing it over to the man sitting beside you on your bed. you don't miss the way his eyes are trained on your lips as he takes the device from you. who would've thought you would be here with a man, alone in your room, vaping together. who would've guessed it'd be jake sim, your best friend's older brother. the two of you had known each other's existence of course, thanks to your amazing best friend but you'd only bonded over your likings of smoking and vaping. the reasoning was funny but you couldn't deny how fun spending time with him was.

every week he'd come over, one expecting the other to have a vape, i mean, that's the only reason you were friends, right? you noticed you enjoyed his presence far too much for your own liking but who were you to deny the butterflies that attacked your stomach every time you'd open the door to be met with his smile. a very cute smile.

you look over at him, vapour leaving his lips, his plump and kissable looking lips. you turn your head back to the front, where were these thoughts coming from? i mean, of course you wanted to fuck him but losing your best friend would mean losing your literal other half. you shuffle around waiting for him to pass it back to you. when he does, your hands touch and there's a bubbling feeling in your stomach. you look at his hands, admiring how beautiful they were but your thoughts get nastier as you imagine them inside of you. bringing the vape towards your lips, you inhale it and proceed to exhale. everything is fine, right? no. you felt hot and your panties felt wet. why did he have to be so attractive? you let out a sigh as you pass it back to jake.

"y/n?" he said, you really loved the way he said your name. "hm?" you mumble, trying your best to ignore the fact you can feel yourself physically getting wetter. "y'know, you're really hot." your head snaps to face him. with your lips parted and eyes widened, you stare at him as if he'd confessed to committing a crime. "what?" you say in a whisper, it wasn't intentional but it was the best thing that came out. "i really want you," he confesses, "it's okay if you don't see me that way but i just wanted to let it out." not knowing how to reply, you grab his hand and bring it down towards your covered thighs. pausing as you pull up your skirt and then you continue to bring his hand down to your now drenched panties. he gasps but the shocked expression on his face is now replaced by a smirk. you wanted him so bad. his fingers ghost over your clothed pussy, rubbing it in the gentlest way possible. you bite down on your bottom lip as you feel his hand go into your panties. "you're so wet angel." he frowns, as if he were upset that you didn't initiate anything earlier. “want you too jakey.” you whined, as he applied pressure onto your clit. 

“really?” he asks, hovering above of you, hand still stuffed in your panties. “for how long, pretty?” jake sim and his stupid pet names, the stupid pet names that are making you go crazy.

“so long jakey, please eat me out.” you said in a breathy whine causing him to let out a low groan. how did someone get hotter each passing second? 

“how could i say no to you pretty?” he leans down to kiss your lips for a slight second. you open your mouth to speak but when the cold air touches your now bare pussy as jake pulls down your panties, every thought is lost. he moves so his head is now right in front of your pussy and you can feel his hot breath on it. “what a pretty pussy.” he says and you can feel the vibrations of every word due to the unbelievable distance between his face and your core. 

“jakey, please.” you choke out and he gives your clit a small kiss before you feel his tongue now on where you need him most. a small whimper escapes your lips and you grab onto his hair. he stuck his tongue in you as deep as he could and the noises that left you had you shocked. his arms lock your thighs in place so you wouldn’t close your legs. it felt like he was making out with your pussy. he starts softly sucking your clit and your eyes rolled back to what felt like another dimension. if jake sim was anything, he was the best pussy eater. leaving your clit he starts sticking his tongue into you again. the amount of pleasure you were feeling was almost criminal. you couldn’t even speak, incoherent words spilling from your lips. 

jake was so addicted to your cunt, moaning against it as he ate you out like a starved man. he didn’t even notice the way he started rutting against your mattress to calm his aching boner. 

“jakey,” you moaned, “i’m cumming.”

“cum on my tongue baby,” he mumbles, lips still attached to your pussy. you close your eyes, waiting for your high but he slaps your thigh causing you to squeal. “eyes open baby, let me see you all fucked out because of me.” you let out the neediest whine and reopen your eyes. you look down and see jake, his tongue doing wonders to you and looking back at you with the hungriest eyes. 

“fuck,” you moan out as you finally reach your orgasm. you see your release on his lips and you whine once more as he licks his lips clean. he shuffles around so you’re now at eye level with each other. 

“best pussy ever baby.” he says before capturing your lips in the hottest make out session you’ve ever experienced. you both get lost into the kiss but everything is interrupted by an annoying ringtone. “fucking hell,” he grumbles, reaching out for his phone. 

“who is it?” you ask, pouting your lips. you were annoyed and frustrated, and horny. 

“my sister for fucks sake.” you feel your heart sink a little, your best friend. how could you forget? you watch him raise the phone to his ear and an idea pops into your head. he was now sitting so you lifted yourself up and straddled his lap. clueless to the plan playing in your head; he rests a hand on your waist.

“what the fuck do you-” you push your bare core against his clearly hard boner. “fuck, what do you want.” he sends you a glare but doesn’t bother pushing you off as you continue grinding against him. “i’m busy, i’ll come later.” he says, impatiently waiting for the other end to hang up. your grinding doesn’t stop and you bite onto your hand, the fear of getting caught still lingers in your mind as if you’re not fucking yourself onto jake. “fucks sake, i’ll come.” you frown. he hangs up and kisses the frown plastered on your lips. “i‘m sorry baby, my family’s being dickheads.”

“it’s okay,” you breathe out, removing yourself off of his lap.

“i’ll make it up to you, okay? next time i’ll punish you for what you just did.” you giggle and send him a nod as he grabs his jacket off of your floor. “cya baby.”

“see you jakey.” 

_

shoutout to my passionfruit mango lime vape for inspiring me!!!

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

I know this isn’t very in line with the usual “haha magnus archives worm lady” posts I usually make, but this is very important to me and I want to spread as much awareness as possible.

One of my favorite games of all time is Dead Cells, a fantastic indie roguelike developed by Evil Empire. Recently, it was announced that it’s upcoming 35th update would be the last one for the game. Now, let me start off by saying that on its own, this isn’t what I’m upset about. The fact that Dead Cells has gotten as much support as it has over the years is quite frankly incredible, and 35 updates, most of which have been free and very high quality, is an amazing amount of support. Rather, I am more concerned about the circumstances behind this announcement.

The announcement was…off, for a number of reasons. For one, Update 35 has been in Alpha and Beta on Steam for a while now, and it’s not exactly an update you’d expect the entire game to end on. Still quality, but not exactly a “grand finale.” Also strange was how long it’s been in alpha and beta, as it seems to have been in development hell for over six months. And finally, it’s clear that there was so much more planned for the game. For example, 2023 was said to be the biggest year for the game, and yet we only got two updates. Granted, one of those updates was very big, but not nearly big enough to really live up to the title of “biggest year so far.” By all accounts, it definitely seemed like there was some sort of internal issue that cut the planned lifespan of the game short. If so, that would be very unfortunate, but I would have been willing to accept there was probably nothing that could be done. However, recently some information about what actually happened has shown up, and….yeah I’m pissed.

For those who didn’t know, Dead Cells was originally made by a team named Motion Twin, but after the fourth update, most of the people working on the game left to form their own team, Evil Empire. Evil Empire has developed every update for the game since that split, and yet, they are rarely credited as the makers. Motion Twin is the company that promotes all of the new updates, as if they made them, and unfortunately very few people know which company actually makes the game. Recently, Motion Twin announced a new game called Windblown (proclaiming it was made by the same team as Dead Cells, when it certainly wasn’t), and based on recent interviews with Evil Empire, we learn that Motion Twin pulled the plug on Dead Cells against Evil Empire’s wishes. Evil Empire loved making the game, and planned to continue updating into 2025, expanding the gameplay and lore, yet Motion Twin decided to pull the plug, either to promote Windblown (which if so…why? You can have two games?), or simply out of spite towards Evil Empire, which seems unfortunately possible due to the fact that the devs do not seem to have the best relationship. And to add insult to insult to injury, Motion Twin straight up lied by saying that Dead Cells stopped development because they “don’t want the game to feel bloated”. ….THEY DON’T EVEN MAKE THE GAME WHAT THE HELL?!

So yeah…this is a really terrible situation. Dead Cells is a game that means a lot to me, it’s helped me through some very tough times and there are many other people who hold the game dear to their heart. So please, anything from a simple reblog to making your own posts about the matter goes a long way. Spread awareness about what’s going on. Tell people about how Evil Empire has put so much hard work, love and dedication into the game, and wishes to continue. Tell people about the lies that Motion Twin have been telling. Pressure the two teams into splitting away from each other entirely, so that Dead Cells might get a chance at continuing development. (Be respectful about it though, don’t commit any forms of serious harassment.) It would seriously mean a lot to me and many others, and I would greatly appreciate it :).

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers - pt 2

Gif not mine

A/N: Not sure about the formatting, copy and paste didn't quite work out as planned. Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Master list here

You miss your stop.

Not only do you miss your stop, but you end up all the way at the bus depot before the driver notices you passed out in one of the seats. The driver, a kindly older gentleman, offers to give you a lift home since it is the end of his shift anyway. He takes pity on you, perhaps due to your tired and sad appearance. Interestingly, no one seems to notice the red wisps behind his eyes.

You appreciate his kindness, but you are anxious about returning home. A quick look at your phone reveals that it is well past 6 PM and you have missed multiple calls and texts from both of your parents. This is not going to end well. In simple terms, you are fucked. Fortunately, the man doesn't seem to notice your restlessness as your leg bounces nervously as he gets closer to your home.

As you exit the vehicle, you politely thank him and offer to pay for the gas, but the man refuses. His accent changes slightly as he says, "anything to help." You shrug it off, as it is not your concern where people are from. Your focus is on more pressing matters. After closing the door, you square your shoulders and mentally prepare for the absolute shit show awaiting you as soon as you step through the front door.

It shouldn’t surprise you that your father’s booming voice is the first to be heard. “Where were you?”

You start with the truth. “Dad I’m sorry, I was on the bus after my exam, I fell asleep with my headphones-”

”I don’t want your excuses! While you live here under our roof, you will show us some respect, you will follow our rules! You had chores to do today, why didn’t you do them?”

A bead of sweat trails down the back of your neck. You hate being interrupted, and you hate being asked questions when they clearly don’t want the answers. Besides, you are in your twenties, not a child. “As I was saying, I-”

This time your mother interrupts. “Don’t speak to your father like that. He asked you a question, we expect you to answer it!.”

You grit your teeth. “I fell asleep on the bus, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Always with the excuses this one.” Your father laments. “Do you think your future employer is going to care about any of that? No. He’s just going to want to know why you weren’t there.”

It takes every ounce of your sanity to not snap that your answer is the reason WHY you weren’t there, and not simply an excuse. Instead you hold your tongue. They aren’t here to listen, they don’t care. They just want to yell at you, and for you to be sorry.

“I tell you, with behavior like that it’s any wonder at all you’d even be able to keep a job. They would probably fire you on the spot, and then you would be right back on our doorstep, our problem once again to pick up the pieces.”

It’s all hypothetical of course - you’ve never been late to any of your classes, but you have not yet had a job, you weren’t allowed to. You are sure you wouldn’t be late to it though if you were to treat it like your classes. You know you can’t tell your parents this however. Might as well bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Yes Dad, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Saying sorry simply doesn't cut it! Sorry doesn’t fix the problem that you caused, so tell me, how are you going to make the problem right?” he demands. A vein throbs in his forehead. Absently you think about how he knows he should watch his blood pressure, but that would require him to watch his temper. Y/D/N could never.

You know what he is looking for, he wants you to do your chores now, but it’s after 8PM and your exam is at 8AM. If you do your chores now, that leaves you little time for last minute studying, eating, bathing, sleeping, and then catching the bus back to the university. Helplessly, you look to your mother for help.

“Don’t look at me, this is your mess you’ve created. If you had just done what you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. If you had just been good, you could be doing whatever it is you do with your free time right now.”

It had always annoyed you greatly that your parents were unaware of your academic achievements. While it's true that you didn't have the best grades as a child, once you entered university and chose a major, you became a straight-A student, even going so far as to make the President’s list the last three years in a row. However, in their eyes, you would always be the little underachiever they had to take care of.

Tears well up in your eyes. This situation wasn't fair. It was an accident. You had fully intended to come home and do your chores, but you couldn’t have known you would sleep through your alarm on the bus. You had been so incredibly exhausted that you experienced a vivid nightmare whilst awake. You were aware that you needed more sleep, but your degree was your only way out of this miserable place. You couldn't risk losing it all just because you missed a few hours of sleep now and then.

“Please?” You beg. You didn’t have anything else to argue in your defense. “I’ll leave my headphones in my bag this time, I’ll set multiple alarms, I won’t sleep, just please let me go study!”

Your parents look at each other, having silent communication. Seeming to come to an agreement, your mother speaks first. “Y/N we’re sorry it has to be this way, but you have already proven on multiple occasions that we can’t trust you to do the right thing. Tonight, you are going to do your chores even if it takes you all night to do it. Besides, we all know you’re not studying up there. For all we know you’re just up there masturbating in the window or something.”

Being stabbed in the chest would have been less painful. You don't understand why you're caught off guard; it's not like your mother hasn't said off the wall shit like this in the past. It's almost as if she thrives on finding the most hurtful and outrageous statements to throw in your face, as if you deserved them. As if you had ever done any of the things she accused you of. Like you were some sort of deviant, when all you wanted was simply the right to exist.

“What the actual fuck, Mom?!” you scream, having finally had enough. Both of your parents look taken aback. Rare is it for you to raise your voice at them, even more so to curse at them. “I know you’ve been pretty checked out of my life for a while now, but I’ve had a 4.0 GPA for the last three years. I don’t know where you got that… comment… from, but I can assure you that all I want to do is go to my room and study.”

“Now listen here young lady,” begins your father.

"No, YOU listen, Father," your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were right about one thing, and that is I am a gods damned adult. I take my studies seriously, and while it may come as a surprise to you since neither of you have paid any actual attention to my life since I turned 18, though it could be argued you really stopped paying attention earlier except for when I was being an inconvenience, but I am actually a great student. This is my last semester before graduating with honors and again, a 4.0 GPA, and I will have my choice of job opportunities. I will leave this place, and you miserable old bats will have no one to be your punching bag anymore. Then maybe just maybe you can finally take a look at the flaws and fix what's wrong with your own marriage, instead of trying to break ME!”

Your chest heaved. It felt good to speak your truth, but as the silence grew, you began to realize that you might have made a mistake.

Your father has finally gotten out of his chair, looming over you. A resounding slap echoes across the room as your father backhanded you, knocking you to the floor. “You ungrateful, miserable little bitch! I don’t know what lies those ‘professors’ at the university have been filling your head with, but you have no future, and you are lucky your mother and I care enough to let you live under our roof! And so long as you do, you will obey our rules, and show us the respect we deserve!”

Fearful, you scramble back to the wall and attempt to push yourself to your feet. “If that’s the price of living here, then I will happily live in the University’s library. One week, that’s all I need!” You step forward to make your escape from this house, but this time your mother shoves you, and once again you find yourself on your knees.

You raise your hands in self-defense, but your mother sneers, "Do it, Y/N, hit me, and you'll be out on your ass faster than you can blink!" Crying, you lower your hands and prepare to allow her to strike you.

The lights went out all at once, and everyone froze. Has the power gone out? It couldn’t have, you could still hear the hum of the AC unit. So what was wrong with the lights?

The lights turn back on as suddenly as they had gone out, and all three of you look around in confusion. However, despite the lights returning, the room appears darker, creating an almost eerie atmosphere. The shadows cast a looming presence over all of you, sending a shiver up your spine. Your home, which you have lived in for around twenty ish years, suddenly feels foreboding, and you wonder if it's too late to flee. It almost resembles one of the nightmares you have been experiencing recently.

Red mist fills the room, a dreadfully sinister voice speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

All three of you turn to the source of the sound - the corner of the room, as a red and black leather-clad boot, attached to black leather pants, steps through a portal and into the room. The Scarlet Witch follows, radiating her full glory. She warns, "If you wish to keep your body parts intact, you will never lay a finger on Y/N ever again."

You’re pretty sure your eyebrows have never been closer to meeting your hairline before and yet here we are. You don’t know who this unfamiliar lady is, nor how she seems to know you but God damned if that outfit doesn’t look as if it has been painted onto her. You blush at your sinful thoughts. Now is not the time, and you’re pretty sure you’re having a stroke of some sort. If nothing else, however, you are grateful for the reprieve from your beating.

Meanwhile, your parents had never taken well to being told what to do, by anyone, they certainly weren’t going to now by this costumed stranger. Your mother bristles. “Who is this Y/N? Another one of your little whores?” Completely disregarding the fact that you have never in fact had a partner in your entire life, and you don’t know whether to be pleased that she seems to think you’re capable of having a sex life or affronted that she thinks you’re some type of floozy. Your mother’s words, not yours.

“What? No, I-” You look helplessly from the floor between your parents and this woman you now recognize as the one from your visions, and the same one from your hallucination this morning. Is she here to help, or to hurt you? She has been your savior and aggressor in both; there’s no telling which she has chosen for now. Glancing between them, you are unsure how to de-escalate this situation. There is no way to convince your parents, for their own safety, that this woman is powerful and not to be trifled with. Nothing you could say, they would believe, and you were pretty sure this woman would kill your parents without a second thought if they didn’t tread carefully.

Seeming to sense your struggle, the woman speaks up in your stead. “As I’ve said, you would do well to keep your hands to yourself. I am here to take Y/N with me, and you will not stand in my way. This is your only warning, which I am giving to you out of consideration for Y/N.”

She reaches down for your hand to help you back up. Hesitantly, you take it, ignoring the shock that runs throughout your body, and begin questioning your entire reality. Take you with her? Who even is she? Where exactly is she going to be taking you? You had questions, and you would like some answers, but if you didn’t get your parents to stand down, you were pretty sure she would follow through on her threat. Sure, your parents were trash, but they were all you had. You loved them, and you were certain that, in their own warped way, they loved you, too.

She helps you up and proceeds to give you a thorough once-over, carefully inspecting your injuries. Her intense scrutiny makes you blush. Meanwhile, your parents remain silent, their thinly veiled anger evident as they observe your interaction. How dare this woman speak to them in such a manner? Thankfully, they wisely choose to keep quiet. Perhaps they also sense the dangerous aura emanating from this woman, perceiving her as a true threat. Then again, it could be due to the fact that she just stepped through a literal portal conjured out of thin air moments ago. Maybe they had been paying attention, but even you are unsure of what is real anymore.

Still holding your hand, the Scarlet Witch leads you back towards the portal she arrived through. "Come, Y/N, we have much to discuss." At this point, all you could do was helplessly trail after, hoping you weren't going from bad to worse. At least by leaving, your parents would be out of danger. As for yourself, well... It was clear that the Scarlet Witch wanted something from you. Hopefully, whatever that was would be sufficient to ensure your survival. Perhaps even enough to negotiate with.

At the last possible moment, your mother chooses, whether out of genuine love and concern for your well-being, or fear at the loss of her control over you, to reach out to take you from this bizarre woman. “Mother, no!”

Y/M/N finds herself promptly flung onto the wall behind her, and stuck there, unable to move. You aren’t sure who exactly screamed but you’re pretty sure it was every member of your family. The Scarlet Witch hadn’t even turned to look, the only indication she had even been involved is the raised hand, opposite the one holding yours, with dark, ink-stained fingertips, bent at slightly odd angles.

“Stop, please! Let her go, she won’t do it again, please! I'm sorry, please!”

Unsure of why you are begging for this woman’s life when she has spent the entirety of yours making sure you were miserable. Still, your heart lurched at the thought of anything happening to your mother. You didn’t like her, and if you never saw her again, that was probably for the best, but you certainly didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

The Witch took a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself, before turning to face you.

In the softest voice you had ever heard she whispers “Detka, I-.” She opens and closes her mouth a few times, deciding what to say. To your absolute mortification and delight, she leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, and promises “I will let them live, but I must say my piece.”

You nod, completely dumbstruck at everything happening in this moment. What. The. Fuck.

Y/M/N, still pinned to the wall, whimpers and struggles to move but is clearly unable to. The Scarlet Witch turns from you to face your parents. Another wave of her hand, and your mother slumps to the floor, alarmed, but otherwise unharmed. It is clear whatever the witch did, both she and your father are now restrained.

Footsteps approach the pair, and the lights in the house flickered ominously. Despite your mother being nearly 40 years older than her (or so you assumed, as you had no idea of this woman's age), the power emanating from her exuded confident malevolence. She showed no fear towards them, and for once, although ashamed to admit it, you were glad to see that they were afraid of someone else.

Though she was only about 5'6", the woman knelt before your parents, her voice filled with menacing intent. "I know everything you have ever done, everything you ever could do, and everything you ever will do. I know what you are guilty of. I know what you deserve, and I can assure you that it is not mercy. I will spare your lives and leave you unharmed due to the kindness of your daughter, the daughter you’ve abused for decades." As her head tilts, you can't help but feel that she becomes even more dangerous. "But if you ever try to take her from me again, I will seek retribution on her behalf, and I promise you it will be the most excruciating agony you have ever experienced. Do we understand each other?"

You squirm uncomfortably. This should not be doing things to you, but then again, no one had ever stood up for you. Ever. Gods you needed therapy. It’s fine. Little boxes, and this was for a little box for later.

The witch stood up and once again took your hand, leading you through the portal and leaving your parents behind. Perhaps for good, you weren’t entirely sure, and you suddenly realized you didn’t care. Anywhere was better than here; even if this woman was dangerous, at least for the moment, she seemed to care about you, and that was enough for you to follow her to the ends of the earth.

Again, therapy…

The pair arrive at a massive stone temple, which you would later learn is called Mount Wundagore, the Scarlet Witch's temple. It is built into a massive, rugged mountain with steep cliffs, situated above dense forests and enveloped in mist. The mountain exudes an air of mystique and possesses an eerie atmosphere. Scattered across its walls are depictions of the woman in front of you, accompanied by various runes whose significance you suppose hint at a potentially supernatural importance.

The Scarlet Witch does not make much of an effort for introductions, nor explanations, simply heads towards the entrance to her temple.

“What is this place?” you ask, hints of awe and fear in your voice

“Our home.” 

Your brain stutters. “I’m sorry, what now?” 

“Detka, do not pretend you did not hear me, I don’t enjoy repeating myself. This is our home.” Her accent sounds vaguely Eastern European, and becomes more pronounced the more irritated she is. You wonder when she started trying to hide it.

Your mind balks at the idea of this being your new home, it couldn’t be less foreboding. “Uhhh… this.. is a giant stone temple in BFE nowhere, with ice, snow, and-”

Movement startles you out of your reverie. Beings made entirely out of stone shift from foot to foot, as if adjusting their stance. Their eyes have the same red glow as the woman who leads you now.  

 “Are those rock trolls??” The stone guardians loom threatening, but make no move to engage, they await their Queen’s orders. “Right. Rock trolls. Why is this our home? WHERE is our home? And,” you spin, taking the aesthetic of the temple in, trying not to have an anxiety attack. “What do you mean -our- home? Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

You can’t tell if the faint twitch of the other woman’s lips is in amusement or annoyance at your ramblings, but in your defense, she had let you speak uninterrupted. You were known for getting entire paragraphs out if left unsupervised - it was a talent and a curse. Personally you felt she should be grateful you weren’t jumping down her throat, you didn’t know anyone else who would be taking this half as calmly as you were. Then again, you were still waiting on your Hogwarts acceptance letter at 25. 

“My name is..” she hesitated. “Wanda. I am.. I was an Avenger.”

You looked on blankly, hoping she would elaborate. The fuck was an “Avenger”?

"In my universe," (you filed away the fact that she implied the existence of a multiverse for later, as it was a problem for another time) "the Avengers are superheroes. Well, that's what we called ourselves - Earth's Mightiest Heroes. A bit arrogant, if you ask me. We dealt with threats that the military and ordinary people couldn't handle. We were the last line of defense. We saved the world countless times, but at a great cost of lives. We were vain, thinking we were above it all because we believed we were acting for the greater good. But try explaining that to those who were lost as collateral damage.

I digress. We.. were considered to be heroes. There were several of us, we were a team. A family. We lived together, fought together. Died together. Until we didn’t.”

Wanda explains the dynamics of the Avengers team, including how she and her brother Pietro joined. She mentions Pietro's death in the battle against Ultron, as well as the events leading up to and the battle against Thanos. She also covers the events of the “Blip”, and what happened afterward. However, she conveniently chooses to omit the events of Westview, as she didn't want you to know about that just yet.

“That’s.. wow. Wanda, that's a lot. Honestly, if I hadn’t seen your powers myself, I wouldn’t believe you. But all of that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. You mentioned your universe as being so fantastical, why would you come here? And what do you want with me? If you’re a hero, why are you here in what totally looks like a villain’s lair and not with your other superhero buddies?” You neglect to mention the unease creeping up your spine.

This is fine. Everything is fine. Right? Right. 

A look of utter despair crosses the witches face as she locks eyes with you before glancing away.

“I mentioned my team before, but I didn’t mention you.”

“…” You slow blink. This was not how you thought your day was going to go, and honestly, you were already getting a bit of a headache. Could she be less cryptic because that would be great. More details, fewer questions. Maybe another nap.

"Y/N, where I am from, you were also an Avenger. You had joined the team before Pietro and I, and were one of the few who made us feel welcome. Despite the fact that we had previously been enemies, you didn't treat us as ticking time bombs. Instead, you welcomed us with open arms. Your go-to tactics were kindness and understanding, which made it hard not to want to get to know you. When Pietro died, you were the only one who checked on me and cared. You taught me that grief is just love persevering. You became my closest friend, and over time, I couldn't help when those feelings began growing into something more.”

You swallow uncomfortably. It sounds like Wanda is telling you that in this other universe you both were an item. It’s not that you wouldn’t be honored to be with such an attractive woman, but it feels weird knowing that that was a different version of you. Someone with superpowers, someone likely more confident by the sounds of it. This feels almost as if you are intruding on something you shouldn’t, yet Wanda is the one telling you this; if it weren’t okay for you to know, she surely wouldn’t be sharing. You don’t really know what to make of this; if she has feelings for this other you, why is she here with this version of you?

“In the battle against Thanos, we learned that the source of your powers was an infinity stone embedded in your skull courtesy of H.Y.D.R.A. experiments, which altered your genetic DNA. Thanos had also learned you possessed this Mind Stone and sought to take it from you by force.”

Anguish on her features, the witch turns to you. “You were going to die, Y/N. We tried, I tried, so hard to protect you, to keep you away from him but at every turn he found you. If he had gotten the Mind Stone, he would have been able to enact his plan to rid the universe of half of all life. You told me.” She hiccups.

“Y-you told me it was okay, that you forgive me. That I needed to.. that I needed to destroy the stone to save the universe. I didn’t want to. I would have given anything else but that. But you held my hand and told me you forgave me, that you only felt me. Then Thanos came, and we were out of time. I was the only one with the power to do it because its magic was so similar to my own. I placed my hand to your head and I-.” She is unable to continue, breaking off into sobs.

Oh. So she had to sacrifice you to save the universe. Well. You agree with the alternate you, you didn’t blame her, and you would definitely forgive her. Awkwardly you try to find some way to comfort her. While obviously you were not the same person she had loved and lost, and you knew from your own experiences with loss that sometimes words just couldn’t cut it. Instead, you shuffle forward, making sure you were heard in case she wanted to refuse you, and pullher  in for a hug.

Wanda tenses in your embrace, as if she can’t decide if she wants to sink into it or send you flying. “The worst part,” she continues, “was that it meant nothing.”

If you were a dog your head tilt might have been cute.

“In the end, Thanos was still able to get the Mind Stone, and you were still dead, by MY hand, and it all meant NOTHING!” Wanda wrenches herself from your grasp, looking positively unhinged. You probably should have been scared. You weren’t. Her wrath did… things… to you. Therapy…

“All because Strange saw supposedly every possible future and CHOSE to let you die to save everyone else. As if there was no other possible outcome!”

Oh, that... that makes more sense. The other you was still dead, and Wanda was definitely suffering from PTSD from her involvement in it. Her little stunt with your parents was probably her way of trying to save you or bring you back to life. But in your universe, there weren't any superheroes, magic, or Thanos to protect you from (that you were aware of at any rate). So what was Wanda doing? This wouldn't bring her version of you back to life. You may have looked and sounded alike, and you might have made similar decisions, but you simply weren't the same person. The lack of the same life experiences meant that you had different personalities, despite having a similar genetic build.

“So we saved the world, and I left to live in exile. After the funeral, Clint handed me your belongings, and in them was a letter. A deed to a plot of land you had purchased in our names where we were going to build a house. I think it was supposed to be a surprise after we defeated Thanos. We had never lost before, not since Pietro - I don’t think it occurred to us that we could. So I drove out to see and.. Y/N I was still so new to my powers. They were still mostly subconscious. I was grieving and... it would be easier if I show you. May I?”

“May you.. what?”

A subtle smile appears on the witches' face at your ignorance. You are tempted to mention how beautiful she looks with that smile. Shaking off the thought, you ponder if she can read your mind, as her smile becomes knowing and a slight blush colors her cheeks. Ink-stained fingers reach towards your temple, but she hesitates, waiting for your consent, and your heart fills with warmth. You nod once, despite not really understanding.

Her charcoal-colored fingers, cold to the touch, make contact with your temple. Just as you're about to complain about the lack of warning, you're abruptly transported into a completely different world, surpassing the immersive experience of any 3D movie you've ever seen. You not only hear and see everything in every direction, but you can also feel and smell it all. It feels as if you are truly present in that moment. It takes a few minutes for you to realize that you are witnessing someone else's memories, to be precise, Wanda's memories.

She starts her memory with the unexploded bomb created by Tony Stark, which sat in the middle of the rubble of the Maximoff residence. In that chaotic scene, there were two children, the twins, hiding in fear under a bed. However, before you could offer any comfort, the scene shifted. The twins had been taken to HYDRA, where they were subjected to brutal experiments. Witnessing their suffering broke your heart, and despite your best efforts, you were unable to interact with your surroundings, although you desperately tried. Repeatedly you threw yourself against the walls of the cells in which the twins were held, hoping to free them from their hellish situation. You observed the twins' powers first emergence: Pietro's as he attempted to reach his sister's side, and Wanda's as she tried to defend Pietro from the scientists.

Scene after scene, each one as traumatic, if not more so, than the last, depicting all the events from Ultron and beyond. And then there's you. Except, it's not really you. You've certainly never possessed the power of teleportation, nor have you ever been so self-assured. This must be Wanda's universe's version of you. With bright eyes and a warm demeanor, you appear as a beacon of light in Wanda's otherwise bleak life. You observe as the version of you in this universe warmly welcomes the twins to the team, a stark contrast as to how the rest of the team treats the newcomers ranging from suspicious to openly hostile.

It’s surreal, watching yourself from outside your own body, knowing this version isn’t really you, but still no less real of a person. Wanda’s memories begin focusing less on missions and more on interpersonal relationships. Specifically, the one developing between yourself and Wanda. It’s intimate and you feel like an intruder watching this unfold. Sadly, as you grow closer, Wanda loses the only other connection she has - Pietro is hit by stray bullets while saving children. A true hero, and there was nothing anyone on the team could do to prevent it. You watch in horror both for the loss of Pietro as a friend, as well as knowing the absolute devastation this will cause your beloved Witch.

You can tell at this point that that’s what she was to you. It hasn't been long, but that bond has clearly already been sealed; you can see the signs in both your alternate self and Wanda. You would have to be blind not to. The loss of her brother does terrible things to Wanda and it’s all your other self can do to try to keep her afloat. “What is grief but love persevering?”

The scene shifts again. Time has clearly passed, and Wanda appears to have healed to some extent. She and the team have become much more cohesive, which delights both versions of you. Your relationship has definitely progressed, if the blush currently gracing your face, extending to your ears, is any indication. You feel the remnants of the emotions from your alternate self. They are not yours, but neither are they entirely unfamiliar. It makes for a disconcerting sensation to say the least. You don’t know Wanda like that, even though this version of you does. You wish you could view these memories dispassionately, free from your alternate self’s emotions that are bleeding through, but you suspect that’s not possible. Once again you try to reassure yourself that you are not the same person, no matter the genetic makeup.

Jarring you from your reverie, next you find yourself in another battle, and this one is massive. There are more superheroes here than you have ever seen before, either in Wanda's memories or in films. This must be the fight against Thanos she had told you about. Dread settles in your stomach like a stone, and for a moment, you contemplate what it will be like to witness your own death.

Traumatizing, for sure, though not for the reasons you had expected. While you are unable to interact with your environment, you are able to freely move about. Instead of looking at the memory entirely from Wanda’s perspective, you move to stand beside yourself. Wanda stands before you, ethereal, magnificent, yet utterly devastated. She knows what she has to do and pleads with you not to make her. It is unjust for a woman so powerful to suffer such loss, and still you implore her to sacrifice your life, her happiness, for the sake of the rest of the universe. It is unfair. It is cruel. You know it, but you ask anyway.

She never could tell you “no.”

You know the moment this universe's version of you had died when you witness the sheer devastation on Wanda's face. Most people would probably look away, but you couldn't. For some unknown reason, you feel compelled to witness this moment in all its horrifying detail, if only to gain a true understanding of the witch and the immense pain she has endured. There were surely few things more intimate than allowing someone to share their own memories, and here Wanda was, granting you unrestricted access to hers. The least you could do was accept this gift she was offering, no matter how painful it might be.

The images that follow blur together, evoking your personal experiences with grief and a sense of detachment from the world. The funeral is somber, one and all everyone dressed in black and grey. Wanda is present only in body, and you can’t blame her. Clint, the archer, hands her your belongings, including the letter she had mentioned. It unnerves you how detached Wanda appears to be at this moment, despite being surrounded by friends and colleagues. You worry about what lies ahead for her. So much loss in such a short time, it didn’t take a psychiatrist to know this would surely take a toll on her. You prayed that her friends came to check on her, but you had a feeling either they didn’t, or in her grief, she refused them entry.

Colors blend into one another and fade out. You find yourself standing on a plot of land in a town called Eastview, crouching next to Wanda as she collapses to her knees. Her body is wracked with anguished sobs as she finally allows herself to grieve. You wish you could interact with this memory, to hold her and alleviate some of her pain, even if only for a moment. Instead, you sit with her, sharing in her pain as she releases it all into the world. Wanda allows herself to experience her grief in its entirety, no longer burying her feelings beneath a veneer of numbness. Colors leech from the world around her, turning it greyscale. You're pretty certain that even at their strongest, the average person's manifestation of grief isn't supposed to do that, but then again, the average person isn't the Scarlet Witch. Briefly, you wonder what consequences this will have on her world. Your head feels fuzzy, and as your vision fades to black, you suppose you are about to find out.

You regain consciousness and find yourself in a world entirely devoid of color. Disoriented, you blink as the details of your surroundings slowly come into focus. In front of you stands... well... yourself. Or rather, an alternate version of you who appears to be from the 1950s, slightly older but still alive. Seated beside 1950’s you is Wanda, also monochrome and dressed in 1950s attire. Blearily, you rub your eyes. It has been a long day, and you are extremely tired, unsure if this is just an incredibly vivid hallucination or if you have actually passed out somewhere.

Alternate you asks Wanda a question, to which you aren’t listening, and she replies with a quip - you still aren’t listening, wondering where you are and why everything is in greyscale. What catches you off-guard though, is the surround sound laugh track that‘s garnered in response. It’s galling to admit but you jump, startled, and look around. There’s no one else in the house besides yourself, the alternate version of you, and Wanda. Where did that come from?

Alternate you replies to Wanda, and again with the laugh track. This time you are not as startled, but no less unsettled. What fresh hell is this? Could this be Wanda’s doing? It doesn’t seem like you can ask her though, as you’re just a passive observer in this strange situation. The last thing you remember, Wanda was grieving in Eastview at the plot of land which alternate you had purchased to start your life together after retiring from being superheroes. Strange grey wiggly woos (as you were starting to refer to her magic) were emanating from the witch, quite different from the familiar scarlet color you had grown accustomed to.

Perhaps this was her doing, if only subconsciously. You tried to recall, didn’t Wanda mention something about her powers being new to her and mostly unintentional? This could be what she had been referring to. Apprehension made a home in your chest as you found yourself dreading whatever was about to unfold before you. Oh no, Wanda, what did you do?

It doesn’t take long after observing the hijinks and mishaps, for you to realize that Wanda's grief had manifested through her powers. She had transformed the town of Eastview into Westview, resembling a 1950s-style sitcom town. Wanda, along with an alternate version of yourself (if you were truly still alive - that part you hadn't figured out yet), and the entire town were trapped. While it may have started unintentionally, Wanda became aware of it and began actively using her powers to maintain her idyllic town, keeping it isolated from the outside world and preventing the townspeople from leaving. In her grief, Wanda was essentially playing house, holding everyone hostage. However, despite her powers growing stronger, it was clear that the people living there were suffering. If you could even consider their existence as living.

There were even two boys - twins, just like Wanda was a twin. Your heart broke, knowing this could not possibly end well. While technically not "real" and not even "yours" at that, watching these boys be born, live, and grow caused you to cultivate a love for them almost as if they were your own. Your heart thumps uncomfortably in your chest; you didn't want to see how this plays out, but you didn't have a choice.

Despite the dysfunction in your parents, you had always wanted a family of your own. An attempt to break the cycle and bring new life - happy and healthy - into this world. You wanted to raise your kids with the love and care you had never experienced yourself.

You understood the motivations of the witch, but that didn't justify her morally questionable choices. Once again, you are condemned to remain on the sidelines, unable to take any action to resolve the situation. You are forced to witness this charade unfold, hoping and praying that it would end well for everyone involved, yet knowing that it would not. How could it possibly?

Despite your bias, after witnessing everything Wanda had endured, you found yourself wishing for the best outcome for her, in particular. Among all the people you could think of, she deserved a break from the misery that had plagued her life until now.

Eventually, it all came to a head when another witch named Agatha Harkness had infiltrated the town with a book called the Darkhold, attempting to convince Wanda to join her and increase their powers. If Wanda refused, the witch planned to take Wanda's powers for herself. Something about a prophecy regarding a Scarlet Witch.

Meanwhile, the alternate version of you had become self-aware of the true nature of Westview. This version of you pleaded with Wanda to prioritize the wellbeing of others over her own happiness, once again. They urged Wanda to defeat Agatha and free the townspeople, even if it meant losing her spouse and children. It was an impossible choice, and you questioned whether you could have mustered the courage to make the same decision in Wanda’s position.

Wanda defeated Agatha, not that you ever doubted her for a moment. She said goodbye to you, again, and then to her boys, and released her spell. The town was free, but her family.. was gone. Wanda was once again on her own.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as you awaken from the memories. It feels like it’s been ages, but from what you can tell, it must only have been minutes since Wanda first began sharing her memories with you. “Oh.”

Cringe. You wish you could have said something, anything more eloquent. Unfortunately, you feel as though you've just been hit by a Mack truck and could nap for a week. It doesn’t help that you were still feeling the effects of lack of sleep for the last couple of weeks. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t feel so good, is it okay if I lay down somewhere…?” A quick glance around the temple makes you second guess the question you were about to ask. Stone floors did not make a good bed.

With a tone much softer than she had been using, she replied. "Of course, Detka, you only need to ask." 

An elegant wave of her slender fingers and gone is the stone temple, replaced by a cozy bedroom. At a cursory glance, you can tell it is a sanctuary of comfort and tranquility, featuring a plush, inviting bed. The room is adorned with personal touches, such as framed photographs of you and Wanda, and artwork that is somehow absolutely your aesthetic. Shelves display a carefully chosen selection of your favorite books, each waiting to be explored. These items add character and give the space a feeling that is unique to you, even though you have never set foot in this place before.

“Come,” A glimpse of Wanda and you are surprised to discover instead of her red and black uniform, she is now garbed in an oversized sweater and some cotton sweatpants.

“You have been holding space for others for so long, it is time you took some well-deserved rest. You work much too hard.”

“Uh s-sure.” About to make a comment that perhaps you should also change, but looking down to find that you are wearing your favorite worn Legolas shirt and some pajama shorts.

“Right. Rest.” Part of you wants to ask when you can return to your home so you can finish studying for your exams, but based on previous conversation, context clues tell you that’s the least of your concerns right now, and Wanda probably wouldn’t be too pleased with that topic of discussion right now.

Wanda takes your hand, leading you to the bed and it takes your overworked brain far longer than you care to admit to realize that she means for you both to share it. Your brain short-circuits at all the factors at play here: Knowing that you yourself are touch-starved; this absolute enchantress of a woman dated an alternate universe’s version of you, even going so far as basically playing housewife and mother of your children, and here she was asking you to share a bed. Sure, she wasn’t asking you to sleep with her, but she was still asking you to share a bed next to her and what if you accidentally spooned her in your sleep, and what if-

”You’re thinking too loudly, malysh.”

“What? You can- you’re a mind reader?!” you panic, backpedaling mentally, praying to every deity that existed that you hadn’t had any unsavory thoughts in her presence, and nearly fainting as you recalled that you in fact, had some rather explicit thoughts from the moment you first saw her.. The mortification alone was enough to put you into an early grave. You weren’t sure how you had missed that during everything she had shown you, but you reasoned you were probably more focused on the physical manifestations of her powers. 

"Relax, Y/N. I don't intentionally read minds, at least not anymore. Sometimes, surface thoughts are so loud that I can't help but hear them. Like right now, you're practically yelling them at me," she said, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

Unfortunately, while you were no longer freaking out about having accidentally offended the witch, you were now spiraling down a different path. You were agonizing over the pain you had, and likely were still causing her by thinking so loudly. If you remembered any media involving mind reading, the person with the ability usually suffered greatly at the hands of others unintentionally. Naturally, the average person didn't know how to shield their thoughts, and you were afraid that you might be giving her a migraine. To the woman who had only tried to bring you to a safe place and offer you shelter. 

You began to hyperventilate.

Wanda could see that you were spiraling, even without being a mind reader. It was written clearly on your face. However, being able to hear your thoughts helped her identify the source of your anxiety, and she berated herself for not considering that earlier. This version of you lacked confidence, and it was now Wanda's responsibility to help rebuild it. At least, according to her.

"Your parents really did a number on you, didn't they, detka?"

Cool hands gently held your cheeks, pulling you out of your thoughts. Suddenly, Wanda invades your personal space, and the scent of vanilla fills your nostrils, momentarily distracting you from what was happening.

"We're just going to take a nap, okay Y/N? You don't have to worry about anything. I'm not bothered by any of those thoughts you have." A leering grin unfurls across her face.

“If anything I’m quite flattered by them.” She winks.

Heat flashes across your body, and you can’t tell if you were embarrassed, aroused, or both. Unfortunately, you knew your thoughts were likely betraying you. Gods, if only the floor could just open up right now and swallow you into the abyss. Yes, that would be fantastic.

"However, there is time enough for such things later. It's been years, Y/N, and I've just got you back. Nap with me, please?" The witch's eyes gaze longingly into yours, and well, when she looks at you like that, how could you say "no"?

She leads you to the bed and, with the practiced ease of her time in Westview, pulls you into her embrace as the little spoon. Earlier, you had been worried about accidentally touching her inappropriately or having a dirty dream. Now though, with her arms wrapped so protectively around you, sleep claims you almost instantaneously.

[piratefalls]

it's been a week and it's only tuesday. my brain is so tired i almost uploaded a snapshot of my dog's vet records. here's the greatest hits of everything i've read in the last week. (mind the tags on a few!)

masterlist

might blow up in your pretty face by crybabie

“I see you liked my gift,” Alex’s voice was light, but lower than Henry had ever heard it. His belly swooped at the sound. And then the words caught up with him. “Gift?” He felt the color drain from his face and frantically reopened Snapchat to confirm his worst fucking nightmare: his most recent outgoing messages had been sent to Alex, and all of them had been opened already. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you,” Alex told him, still teasing, but he sounded muffled through the ringing in Henry’s ears. “I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to even acknowledge them, let alone send pictures. They look good on you.” - or, the next box was indeed full of thongs :)

When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse

Following the latest string of disastrous first dates with beautiful women to whom he’s decidedly unattracted, and with yet another circular argument with Philip about duty still ringing in his ears, Henry’s summarily fled to the countryside. Here at least, he reasons, there’s no pressure to woo the locals. (A modern fairy tale AU.)

A thousand dreams that would awake me by @kiwiana-writes

“It’s not about punishment.” Alex just nods; Henry had been very clear on the form that he wasn’t looking to be dominated or put in his place, so that won’t be new information. “And it’s not the pain as such.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the mug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like to feel it, but I’m not looking for pain for the sake of pain. It’s more about… control, I think.” There’s a long silence. “Taking it?” Alex prompts finally. “Or giving it up?” “Does it sound ridiculous if I say both?” Or, Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.

Foreign Bodies by clottedcreamfudge

“We both know it's not a doctor you need,” Henry says, sharp and beautiful, hands hovering just in front of him like he wants to touch Alex, but knows exactly how it would be received; like he knows Alex would burst into fucking flames at the first brush of his fingertips. Three hours ago, Alex had been quite happy to live without being burned. Now, he thinks he'd pay for the privilege.

Well It Ain't Missionary by everwitch

Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass. Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned. Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must. Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.

all my time is yours to spend by smc_27

Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much. He should investigate.

i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.” “Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.” “Yes, well, the previous occupant—” “Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room. Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard

how do you want me? by rizcriz

“Christ,” Henry curses quietly, lowering the camera. “You’re beautiful.” Kneeling on the bed, his ankles crossed behind him, a hand tucked into his briefs, the other carefully weaved through his hair, is Bea’s friend Alex. The light sits on his skin, a delicate shadow of eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and when Henry speaks, he opens his eyes and looks at him from beneath those eyelashes, a careful smirk slipping over his lips. He doesn’t move from the pose, though, as he says, “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” - Or Henry’s in over his head.

The Next Draft by graceofgrayskull

“This is so unfair,” Alex says, still eyeing Henry. “What?” June asks. “That Henry Fox is talented, successful, and also mind-numbingly good-looking?” says Nora. Alex nods. “Exactly. Like my perfect nemesis. He’s coming for my brand.” -- Alex has read Henry Fox's debut approximately three times in the past three months. The novel, featuring a wary protagonist coming to terms with his sexuality, is garnering Fox critical acclaim. And maybe Alex is a little jealous — his own novel generated a surprising amount of success last year after going viral online, but it just wasn't cut out for the type of buzz Fox was receiving. So Alex jumps at the chance to meet Henry at a book signing, despite knowing very little about the man himself. What starts as a bad first impression quickly leads to fast friendship, many Instagram DMs, and a whole lot of mutual pining.

Shoot Your Shot by RoseHarperMaxwell

Jimmy raises his eyebrows in anticipation. “First celebrity crush?” As usual, Alex’s mouth is moving before his mind can catch up. “Oh,” he gestures, like this is both obvious and the easiest question he’s ever been asked. “Prince Henry.”

No Laughing Matter by inexplicablymine

Ellen is leaning over him, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfectly coiffed updo. He had never managed to understand why exactly she was always dressed so impeccably in her scrubs as a dentist. But she seemed almost presidential, even with the eyeglasses that had magnifying glasses sticking out of them making her look a little like some kind of bug. She only needs a quick look before she is snapping her gloves against her wrists pulling away. “Wisdom teeth come in and then they come out,” she says, and then as an afterthought tack on, “just like you.” Or, who said a meet cute couldn't happen while getting your Wisdom Teeth out?

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites

Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!

i'll bet it all on me and you, i'll bet it all you're bulletproof by anincompletelist

“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common sense skills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.

in an emergency by metacrisis

Alex gets in his own head about a meme Henry liked and decides to take matters, quite literally, into his own hands. OR, Alex gets a sex toy and other nonsense.

(Valen)Tie Me Up by happinessofthepursuit

“Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond. Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift… “Which one?” Alex asks. “I think that’ll immediately be clear.” Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.

More Amour by surveycorpsjean

Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

Confidential Memorandum by sherryvalli

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?" "Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?" Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult. It was a little girl. "Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?" "Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter." Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

in bloom by stutteringpeach

Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.

don't want you like a best friend by @priincebutt

The thing about marrying your best friend who you also happen to have a very secret crush on, is that you don’t take into account how much it will hurt. When they’re around his family and Alex holds his hand so easily, like it’s second nature, it makes Henry’s heart skip a beat, but when they return back to his apartment the distance is deafening. Alex purposefully sits at the opposite end of the couch, and Alex sleeps in the guest bedroom, and Alex calls him ‘man’ like two bros who definitely aren’t in love with each other. So he pines, and he’s heartbroken already, because he knows how much this is going to shatter him when it’s over. Because Alex is integrating into his life like it’s nothing, like it’s easy and this could be their new normal, and that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous. Or, Alex and Henry get married, conveniently.

everyone adores you (at least i do) by matherine

Rain is coming down in sheets against the stained glass windows of the brownstone when the door swings open, ushering in the howl of the wind and the man Henry loves more than anything in the world. “Why didn’t you use your colonizer blood money to buy a place closer to the train station?” Alex calls from the doorway. Henry hears the familiar rhythm of the lock tumblers turning and Alex’s copy of the key to the brownstone clinking against Henry’s signet ring and the key to the Austin house on his chest, only vaguely muffled by the rain. “It’s miserable out there.” Or: Alex comes into the brownstone in the midst of a rainstorm, and Henry realizes he never wants him to leave.

know how to cover up a scene by HypnosTheory

“That’s how Alvie kisses Harry,” Alex says, squeezing Henry’s wrist. Henry’s eyes dart down to the slight red mark on Alex’s cheek. He hit Alex the last time they were together. Henry didn’t get to watch the bruise form then with Alex between his legs. “That’s why Harry wanders, but he always comes back.” Henry draws in a shaky breath. “Alvie’s a lucky man.” Alex’s eyes drop to Henry’s neck, where the diamond of his pendant hangs amid the forming marks Alex left behind. “Sure is." __ Henry Fox, needing an extraction, must rely on his part-time rival, full-time problem Alex Claremont-Diaz. To get that extraction, Henry needs to pose as Alex's date for a high-stakes dinner. They get in character - and stay that way behind closed doors.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, and i'll see you next week!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

[chelscait]

stupid, but i still love you. | Laura Wienroither

category: angst with a civil ending.

summary: where you thought what you were doing was right but Laura disagreed, causing you to say some pretty mean things. (kinda)

word count: 3.3k.

a/n: this was another ficlet req. probably really bad, rushed the end and i haven’t proofread. also probably makes no sense.

A champions league game is always a game you want to be playing the full 90 minutes, especially a semi final.

Due to arsenals long injury list, the team was only travelling with half of the squad they started the season with, making it all the more important to stay focused and prepared.

Arsenal didn’t need another player added to their ‘end of their season’ long list.

On the way to Germany, you couldn’t help the anxiety flow through you. The strikers in this historic team weren’t living up to its standards which put a lot of pressure on yourself and Stina.

Also the fact that you’ve started every game since Beth and Viv got injured, it’s fair to say you were rather exhausted. This game wasn’t the one where you needed to feel it’s affects.

As much as you were heaving under tired eyes, you didn’t fail to notice the cautious looks of your girlfriend whenever you visibly showed the affects. Apparently you weren’t being as discreet as you thought.

She chose to keep quiet though, not wanting to risk anything to do with the teams communication and cause a dispute.

When the day came for the game, you sat unsocially in your locker with your headphones on after tactics were discussed, your name and number being up front on the starting line up as always. You didn’t often huff at the picture but now it was a different story.

You felt a tap on the top of your head, your eyes opening to reveal the number 26 on the girls shorts, looking up at your girlfriend who mimes to take your headphones off.

You sat up from resting your elbows on your knees, sighing as you shifted them to lay around your neck.

“Everything okay?”

“Mhm.” You gave her your curt answer, attempting to return back to your music.

“Hey, i’m not finished.” Laura gave you a slap on the shoulder at your bluntness whilst her other hand snatched them off your head. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Nerves is all.”

“You need to stop putting pressure on yourself, it’s not just you playing and making the chances. It’s a team sport, Y/N.” Sighing, she sat beside you with your knees touching for that discreet support.

“Yeah, but i’m the one that’s expected to get it in the back of the net.”

“Not all the time, you’re only human. Don’t over do it.”

“Laura, the reason i’ve been picked at senior level and on the starting team is to over do it, to perform at my absolute best. You have to over do it, otherwise you’re not good enough.” You leant back in your cubby, rubbing your hands over your thighs as you let out a deep breath.

It was too much to explain, women’s football was too much to explain.

“I don’t over do it and..”

“That’s why your not in the starting eleven. Always on the bench.” You nodded towards her training kit that was still on, not thinking about what just came out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?” Hearing the tremble in her voice made your heart sink, however your face didn’t show it. “Fuck you, Y/N. Sort yourself out.”

You caught Kim’s eyes from across the room after Laura had rushed to wherever she escaped to, disconnecting your view by covering your face with your hands.

The game started worse than any of the team was really expecting, the ball was always on Arsenals side and every shot was on target, inching closer towards the back of the net.

Your position as a forward was not what you were playing in the first half, the whole 11 players was in the back line, desperately trying to limit the risk of a goal but it didn’t work out.

You didn’t know the perfect techniques around playing in defense, only thinking tackles was all they had to put in. How wrong you were, and you thought playing up front was hard.

Halfway through the first half you had managed to find yourself on the wing, chasing against Jonsdottir to recover the ball.

She was quick, too quick and managed to shoulder you to the side, yourself not managing it too well when your studs got caught, your ankle twisting with all your body weight resting on top of it.

The pain shot up your leg and you fell onto the floor, covering your face with your hand whilst your other grabbed hold of your ankle, wanting to withdraw the small snapping sound you just heard from your mind.

You could still just about hear the continue of play around you, as well as the erupt of the crowd as they managed to get one in just as you sat up. Noticing the physios on the sideline, watching you, you decided to try your best to stand up and continue.

Doing so with a hiss, placing your foot flat on the ground before taking small steps. The pain was near to dull, but you think the adrenaline was wearing it off a bit allowing you to ignore it.

“She is hurt. It’s affecting her.” Laura spoke to nobody in particular, but mostly towards the physios keeping her eye on you as you tried your hardest to keep up.

Arsenal was down 2-1 by the half time whistle, thankful for Rafa for doing your job.

Hobbling off the pitch, you held eyesight with your girlfriend, her face did not look to happy but it had a hint of concern.

She brushed past you into the tunnel and you stared at the back of head as she made her way to the changing room, glaring at you as she pushed it open.

Once sat back in your cubby, you lifted your sock up from your ankle and tugged down your ankle sock, noticing the top of what possibly is a large bruise a long with a bit of swelling.

“Knew it. You’re injured.” You jumped as a voice appeared beside you, wincing as you quickly covered your ankle up and placed your foot down on the floor.

“What, no? It just a cut that’s all.”

Laura completely ignored you, plopping down beside you and harshly grabbed your ankle off the floor and into her lap.

“Laura!” You yelped as she did so, the pain escalating throughout your whole body. Nearly letting out a cry.

Your teammates heads snapped towards you, staring in confusion as you tried to tug your foot away from her.

“Laura, please.” The look on your face revealed a whole lot of vulnerability you never normally showed, especially not since the season started.

Laura couldn’t remember the last time you acted human and not some kind of machine with no thoughts of feelings whatsoever.

“I’m going to get the physios.”

“No! Do you want this team to lose?” You gritted your teeth at her, grabbing her arm to pull her back, her face full of shock at your tone.

“Y/N, stop being so arrogant. This isn’t you, i don’t even recognise you. You are injured and you’re going to make it worse, not better, for yourself or for the team.”

“I have to play.” You didn’t look at her as you spoke, voice calming as you realised she was right but you couldn’t give in. You couldn’t let the reds down, not now.

“No, you don’t.”

“Hey! What’s going on?” You both snapped your heads up at the voice of your captain, who was at that moment injured like most of the team was.

Your argument was the first thing Kim saw as she opened the door, you both squabbling in the corner as the rest talked about the second half.

“Ask Y/N. She’s..”

“Nothing, everything’s fine.” You cut her off along with a glare, your fingers gripping the edge of the bench as you hunched over.

She rolled her eyes at your naïvety, you knew you had fucked it up earlier and you can’t stop yourself which is consequently making it worse.

“Well, both of you get a grip, this is champions league not a sunday league game down your local rec.” Kim’s accent was broad, which only increased the stern attitude, like a mum telling off her kids. “Get your asses in gear, we can’t be showing any signs of weaknesses in this club anymore, we’ve been through far too much.”

You open your mouth to reply before being cut off.

“And, if you are injured and are going to continue playing.. i won’t take it lightly if i found out you lied to me.” She poked a finger in your face and it felt just like school times, your eyes wide as she stared you down before making her way out of the changing rooms.

“Now what? You still going to play?”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “I’m not injured.”

“You’re such an idiot, Y/N. Don’t come crying to me when you have to miss the rest of the season.”

You were subbed off in the 70th minute, your performance decreasing and your pace faltered, your ankle now betraying you.

Weirdly, you were being subbed off for Laura and you saw her mention something to the physios as you tried to hide your limp.

You immediately knew what she had done and you didn’t bother to make any effort with her, brushing past her before she ran on the pitch.

“Y/N?” The physio called you as you tried to make your way to the bench, groaning as you turned to her with a timid smile.

She saw straight through you, raising her eyebrows at your stance, quite used to your antics by now.

“I’m fine, i don’t need treatment.”

“Y/N, I can see you’re in pain. You’re not hiding it from me this time, come on.”

At this point your club physio was a bit like your mother, stern face and a ‘get in there now’ attitude. Yourself accompanying it like a child.

She told you to get on top of the bed in the medical room after she allowed you to sort yourself out in the changing room, no sympathy laced in her voice as she sorted what she needed.

You slumped into the plastic thin mattress, your arms crossed with a pout on your face, one which the woman laughed at as she turned around.

Trying not to wince or groan, she took your boot off as well as your sock before gasping in a deep breath at the sight.

“Y/N.. you really didn’t feel any pain with this?” She let out the breath she was holding as she spoke, hands resting on the end of the bed as like she was unsure what she was supposed to do.

“No, it’s not even that.. bad…” You sat up to get a better look at it. “oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Y/N, that could be fractured.”

Her face made you panic, your breathing quickening as you moved your foot closer towards you and away from her.

“Well can’t you tell?”

“Not without an x-ray, but by the amount of swelling and bruising i’d say you have a positive chance of being out for a while.”

“No.” You shook your head as you swung your legs over the side, careful to not bang your ankle as the aim was to escape.

“Y/N! Don’t let me call in you know who.” She took hold of your shoulders, almost restraining you from getting up.

“I’m sure just some ice will do, no? I bet it’s a small sprain.” You panicked, tears welling up in your eyes.

You didn’t want to let the team down with being another of the many injured players.

“It is not a small sprain, Y/N. Now, back on the table.” You heard another voice enter, groaning as Kim sauntered into the room with a disappointed face.

You gave your physio a pleading look to make her leave, she only gave a shrug as a response making you whine.

“What did i say, Y/N? You’ve ruined it, for yourself and for the team. If you had gotten treatment earlier and not have been so selfless to continue playing, you may have avoided such a season-threatening injury.”

You stared at her as she rambled on, her words going in one ear and out the other. Responding to her frustrations with a simple shrug.

“Is that it? You don’t ca-.”

“I don’t know, Kim. Try putting yourself in my shoes right now, all of these injuries aren’t just affecting the ones injured but also the players that are left to play for this club. The pressure is way beyond even describing, i mean, look at me! I barely played before beth and viv got injured. I was put on the pitch like a headless chicken.. and i needed to prove myself and i tried, you cant blame me for that.” You let the tears spill as you reacted, known to the fact that what you did was stupid but you had your reasons. You didn’t need another telling you.

“You didn’t need to put your health at risk though.” Her voice was calmer than before, pulling your head in to her chest. “I don’t blame you, Y/N.. but sometimes you have to be selfish, for your benefit. If you don’t, then you won’t have a very long career. Believe me when i say, i was the same as you.. but I turned selfish and did what was needed for me and look where i am now.”

“Injured?” You huffed out a laugh through your tears, peaking out of her jumper as you felt pressure on your ankle which reminded you both weren’t alone.

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes, pushing your head away jokingly. “For me, Y/N. Don’t do this again.”

“Promise.”

“Also, apologise to Laura. She was only trying to help and you were a bit of a cunt to her.”

You winced at the strong noun that was used to describe your behaviour, threading your fingers through your hair as your remembered what you had said to her, the guilt and regret encasing you.

You nodded at her before she left, leaving you and you looked at the end of the bed where your physio was staring at you.

“I’m fucked, she isn’t going to forgive me that easily.”

“And who’s fault is that.” She grinned sarcastically, patting the boot that was now on your foot a bit too hard.

“Ow!”

After half an hour of trying to hype yourself up to reveal yourself and your new ‘accessory’ to your team, you made your way out and towards the changing room where everyone stopped and stared at you. Including your girlfriend.

You ignored everyone’s questions, heading straight towards Laura who was busy stripping her kit off.

“Laura.” You tried to catch her attention, her name guiltily slipping out your throat.

She ignored you and you could see the way you’ve made her feel from her expression, biting the inside of her cheek as she began chucking stuff haphazardly.

“Laura, can i please talk to you?”

She kept her silence, snatching her towel and knocking her shoulder into yours, making her way towards the showers.

You were about to give up before you caught Kim’s glare again, urging you to make more of an effort and you nodded before gradually making your way to the showers.

You poked your head round the corner to be able to see inside the shower room, spotting Laura, whom you couldn’t help but admire. “Laura..”

“Y/N, for fuck sake, leave me alone!” She examined as she moved to cover herself from you, her front partially pressed to the shower wall.

“Just please let me talk to you.”

“I’m naked and in the shower right now, Y/N, now isn’t the perfect time.”

“I’ve seen you naked before, hardly makes a difference.” You explored how you said that, fingers tapping the edge of the wall whilst you made sure no water was touching your boot.

“Well i dont feel comfortable being naked around you right now and i still wont be with the conversation you want to have.” She turned her head over her shoulder, elbows shielding anything from your view. “Just.. wait out there.”

You pursed your lips as you nodded but didn’t make any movement other than that, your eyes still staring into the room.

“Y/N!”

“Sorry.”

Hobbling back into the main dressing area, you cowered as some of the girls stared at you, though mostly your foot.

You didn’t mention anything, letting them figure it out for themselves that you were in fact injured and you now couldn’t do anything about it.

You decided to sit down in front Laura’s cubby, that way she couldn’t avoid talking to you as she’d have to get you to move if she wanted to successfully get changed.

You reached over towards your own locker, rummaging for your phone to update your family that you were most likely out of playing for a while and they wouldn’t be able to see you at the emirates.

Spotting a pair of feet in front of you as you leant your elbows on your thighs, you traced your gaze up towards her face.

“Move. Get out of my locker.”

You shuffled slightly to the right, still in reach of her and she rolled her eyes as she reached for her clothes and started to redress.

“I’m sorry.”

She scoffed as she pulled her joggers up, her wet hair falling in front of her face pulling you in to tuck it behind her ear but before you could she slapped your hand away.

“Don’t pull that shit with me.”

“What else do you want me to say, Laura? What i did was wrong but it was in the spur of the moment.”

“You embarrassed me, made me feel like shit.”

“How did i embarrass you? All i did was say i could play.”

“Yeah whilst you said that, you basically continued to say that you deserve to play more injured than i do not injured.” She mentioned as she tucked her hair behind her ears before crossing her arms over her chest.

“Bullshit.” You moaned, lulling your head back.

“My god, Y/N.. you can never admit you’re wrong. Always trying to argue back your innocence.” She stopped what she was doing to glare at you, the words practically seething from her mouth. “I told you that you needed to stop playing, you ignored me and here you are. That’s one way you were wrong, the bits you said about me and to me just added to it. This never works, we can never communicate in this relationship!”

You spotted a single tear flow down her face, biting her lip as she tried to suppress any following emotion.

“I’m sorry, i’m really sorry, Laura. I never meant to take my insecurities out on you, it’s just that i’m fed up with not being able to live up to the fans standards. I wanted to prove myself and i can see how i’ve taken it too far. I love you, please don’t.”

You reached out to her, gripping her hands in yours so she couldn’t escape your touch.

“Don’t what?”

“Break up with me.”

She sighed and sat down beside you, leaning the side of her head against the wall as she looked at your joint hands.

“I couldn’t break up with you. Even though you’re downright stupid and fucking annoyingly hard to persuade, i still love you.”

You perked up at her confession, herself raising an eyebrow as you shuffled closer to her and raise your hands closer to your body.

“I love you too, and i promise you i will not bother you with my problems when it come to my rehab and i’ll come up with many ways to make you forgive me.”

“Why the first part?”

“Because i vaguely remember you saying to not come crying to you..”

“You know i’d still help, you’re too useless to do it alone.” She smiled slightly, sitting up as she did so.

“Hey, not funny.”

[im-getting-help]

AND THE THING ABOUT OLIVER AND BOUNDARIES!

Is so obvious to me that his parents were party at fault for his lack of boundaries. Not because they we're malicious and intentional about it, but because they loved him so much they tend to cross his limits.

(Kinda like what Oliver did with Felix, but less obsessive).

From my experience it's something relatively normal about the relationship between parents and their children. The first time we really understand boundaries is when we enforce them to separate ourselves from our parents expectations. It seems to me that Oliver never learned how to do that. He's constantly molding himself to appease and appeal, and when it becomes to much, he flees.

Let's go back to the little things Paula and Jeff share with us in that brief birthday scene.

"He always wanted to be an only child, always beetling off by himself"

"He was so clever, that's why he found it hard to make friends, they were jealous".

"It's been hard not seeing him. But it must be a lot of pressure being the top scholar and being in the rowing team, and the union, and the plays..."

Let's start with the lies.

How long ago Oliver started lying to his parents to make space for himself?

Cause the lies don't necessarily feel like something he used to impress them. It seems to me like the Quicks already thought Oliver was exceptionally smart "he was always so clever" and he's just keeping appearances.

But the amount of things he said he did. The plays, the rowing team, the union, the work of studying to maintain the "top scholar position" like reading, doing work and essays and projects, assisting to classes, lectures and tutorials, it's a lot!.

"It's been hard not seeing him". How many times Paula called just to be ignored or quickly dismissed? with an excuse like "sorry i have an essay due tomorrow" or "im going to practice for the play". And why Oliver wanted to separate himself so much from his family?

"He always wanted to be an only child, always beetling off by himself" why would Oliver wanted to separate himself not only from his parents but his siblings too?

The Quicks said that "We go to to Mykonos every year. Well, not anymore. Not now that the kids are all grown up". That makes me think that Oliver sisters are older than him. Oliver doesn't seem to have a close relationship with them either. Was it because of the age gap? How much older were her sisters? Maybe they had to babysit and that created a second-mother kind of dynamic?

It sounds like he was being smothered by them. And again, i'm not saying it was intentional, but maybe Oliver needed much more space that what the Quicks were able or willing to give. And he didn't know how to ask.

And maybe (only maybe cause i don't really have good foundation for this) Oliver learned that the best way to get space from them was saying he was occupied, specifically studying. So maybe it started at school, him saying that he had to finish homework or read a book or do project, and maybe these were the only times he'll be left alone. Maybe that was the perfect excuse to explain why he didn't have many friends too.

(and i wonder why a kid with no sense of boundaries would have a hard time making friends 👀)

And why Oliver keeps lying?

After moving to Oxford, he could've just draw back and create that space without making an excuse. But he didn't, because he cares, he likes that his family thinks he's intelligent and capable. But he doesn't care for spending time with them.

I don't think he said all those lies to look especially intresting or important, but he did choose to "be occupied" by being a good student. Not in a "i won an award for best performance" but a "I'm too busy to talk, i have tutorial"

And look at the way the Quicks react to Oliver saying he has to go, is very interesting.

Paula just gives up instantly. She offers a compromise, and when rejected she's obviously frustrated but she just lets it go. On the other hand Jeff tries to reason with his son a little "your mother spent all morning doing lunch" but they seem very accustomed to this situation. It's not the first time Oliver escapes a conversation.

So, to me, is obvious that Oliver's parents knowingly or unknowingly contributed to Oliver's lack of healthy boundaries.

He never really draw the line with them, he just made excuses to avoid and elude and ultimately flee when the situation got out of hand. And they never picked up on it, they kept repeating the same scenarios multiple times without having a conversation about it.

I feel like his parents never really confronted him about anything. Maybe because they didn't sense anything was wrong, maybe because, same as the Cattons, they didn't know how to approach the situation or maybe because they know Oliver gets really fcking upset whenever they tried to have a conversation about it, who knows.

So at the end we have a 20yo dude who never learned how to enforce a boundary or why is healthy to have them and has absolutely no idea how to perceive and not cross others limits.

[absolutebl]

Leaving GMMTV aside, what were youre favorite shows this year so far? I'll have more free time coming up and im way behind and out of the loop, so some recs would be appriacted, wise sage. Especially for those shows that didnt get the attention they deserved in your opinion! Thanks a lot!

Top 10 BLs of 2023 So Far

Our Dating Sim

(Korea) 10/10 Viki

If you haven't watched this, it's a must. I actually handed out a 10/10. I NEVER do that. It's a perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy. I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent. Full review here.

My School President

(Thai) 9/10 YouTube

GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Yes, we’ve seen it all before, but I still ADORED this. And there is a lot to be said for the classics being re-executed perfectly. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? This show was fantastic, it’s only flaw was the singing (and that’s my baggage). My favourite GMMTV BL offering to date. And yes, I've watched them ALL.

(you said no GMMTV but I have to include it)

The Eighth Sense

(Korea) 9/10 Viki

One of the longest BLs Korea has given us and (like Blueming) it feels more atmospheric gay coming of age romance than strictly BL. It’s got a bit of an age gap, country boy/city boy, stellar acting, complex characters, and leads with great chemistry and tension. It’s a bit chewy and sticky and less perfect than most KBLs (do I detect a touch of Taiwan?) This one deployed BL tropes (messy eater, shoulder sleep, protective seme, there’s even some hyung-slinging) but front loaded them with painful backstory and tons angst drives the 2nd half. This isn’t in the KBL bubble, there’s sharp edges and lots of triggers. For a BL the darkness of the content left me feeling unsettled (which is the only reason it didn't get a perfect score) but it does have a glorious ending and that counts for a lot.

The New Employee

(Korea) 9/10 Viki

So good, SO QUEER, so soft, a near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also found family and a lesbian bestie. Sweet & innocent (and out) Seung Hyun scores the office internship of his dreams. On his first day at work he gets into it with his cool reserved (and also v gay) boss. As you do. Frankly? This is what I wanted from this new crop of office set KBLs ALL ALONG. Rainbow rice cakes forever! Directed by queer activist Kim Jho Gwang Soo (Just Friends?) partly set in the same neighbourhood as the To My Star house. Gotta love WATCHA (Semantic Error, Light on Me).

Unintentional Love Story

(Korea) 9/10 iQIYI

A boy who just lost his job due to faked corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). I’m not sure on rewatchability, and it didn’t whip me into a verbal frenzy the way some KBLs do, but it still gets a solid 9/10 for those damn eyes alone.

Destiny Seeker

(Thai) 8/10 grey

A darn near perfect pulp featuring 3 likeable tsundere/sunshine pairings with uncomplicated iterations of enemies to lovers. At least one half of each does a decent amount of pining and there’s good chemistry, classic tropes, and communication rep. It’s fun and full of linguistic jokes. Sublimely cheesy but a good rainy day offering with tons of rewatch potential. Full review here.

Make a Wish

(Thai) 8/10

PNR (from Sammon - Manner of Death & Triage) about a doctor who can see the dead and strikes a bargain with a wish-granting irreverent tree angel - naturally they fall in love. Stars Fluke Natouch opposite not-Ohm, but who cares bc Fluke has chemistry with everybody. Once again the Thai afterlife is incredibly bureaucratic but I enjoyed the premise and the unfolding of the story (it’s not predictable but v. satisfying and with nice little twist). I like that the doctor is just gay af, fag hag bestie and everything. The cast is excellent but the comedic stylings are too overblown and tonally off. It had sad parts and did make me cry but is ultimately happy with a great sex scene, good smiley kisses, and all the agency.

All the Liquors

(Korea) 8/10 Viki & Gaga

A pretty classic foodie set KBL that managed to distinguish itself from others in this category by having a particularly satisfying final episode centered around found family. Sunshine sweetie soju rep gets involved with a shy introvert chef who doesn’t drink. This has a somewhat uneven plot and ridiculous central conceit (much in the way of Tasty Florida or Behind Cut), but if you are looking for a restaurant BL with Korea’s signature softness, then this is a great option. FYI I may identify with our baby party boy hedonist more than any other BL lead ever presented.

Love Mate

(Korea) 8/10 Viki

Features a very much openly gay older uke with commitment issues and a romantic (if arrogant) younger seme with no respect for boundaries (hyung romance). Workplace harassment much? That’s BL for ya. (Also a nonBL Kdrama specialty.) So yeah it’s questionable, but so is my taste. The ultimate premise that someone badly hurt shuts themself off to romance is very similar to Happy Merry Ending or 8th Sense but this version was more about fear than abuse or trauma. For me, this made Love Mate more relatable. However, because the denouement was driven by a late addition faen fatal, the conclusion felt rushed and forced. I can, however, see myself rewatching this one, so it falls into the general rank of 2023′s KBL aka solid high standard and eminently watchable.

Bed Friend

(Thai YouTube, Gaga, iQIYI)

Office frienamies transition a flaming hot one night stand into a f-buddy relationship that is built on a puppy/cat dynamic (and kinks into it at one point). Our puppy is loyal, smitten, and protective with endlessly longing eyes, while our cat is snarky, prickly, and deeply damaged (ALL THE TRIGGERS). NetJames give lovely high-heat with excellent chemistry and tuned-in performances of surprising depth, unfortunately the story ultimately failed them. Had the show had the strength of its convictions and kept to a tighter, darker, harsher 8 eps it would have been the first high heat to earn a 10/10 from me, but once they fussed with it, it dropped to a solid 8/10. Could have been great but was overworked. Still if high heat is your thing, this one will not let you down. Full review here. (Triggers include: child abuse, attempted rape, family abuse)

(3x! 3x Tumblr ate this post. They HAVE to de bug their new editor. This never happens with the old one. Biggest bug is with the "undo" function, DO something about it!)

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen 6

Rockstar!Perv!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Summary: It seems like whenever you and Eddie are happily content in your relationship, everyone else is miserable. What happens when your job and his fame is on the line once the secret’s out?

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: I want to thank you guys again for the immense amount of support! I swear I never expected this series to blow up the way it did but I am so fucking grateful. No words can describe it ❤️❤️ This chapter’s a little angsty, little fluffy. It was supposed to be a really long chapter but I’ve decided to split it into the next chapter but it’ll still be about two chapters left. I’m sorry I took soooo long it’s been one hell of a week but I do hope you all enjoy!! SMUT NEXT CHAPTER GONNA GO BRAZY

>>>>Series Masterlist Part 6 of 8

Word Count: 8.5k+

Warnings: angsty, fluffy fluff 😊❤️, soft!eddie, boyfriend!eddie, needy!eddie, yandere!eddie makes a small appearance, fighting/little violence, little crying, reader paints eddie’s nails, small dirty talk from the metalhead, kissing, handholding, secret relationship, reader has an enemy, marijuana ingestion, Stevie Nicks appearance, special gift from reader to Eddie 💕

“Hold still. You’re gonna mess it up.” You giggle.

Eddie’s sat between your legs, slumped with his head on your chest. The way he insisted you to paint his nails because “it’ll be like painting your own nails”. Although, you knew the real reason was an excuse to rest his head on the pillowy mounds.

You didn’t mind, though. You found him so adorable, staring up at you with those big round eyes and a goofy smile on his face. He’s much more manageable when he’s in this state of bliss.

“You’re taking so long,” He groans.

“I’m almost done, ya big baby.” You say, kissing his forehead. He smiles, rubbing your thigh with his free hand.

You blow on the last finger you’ve painted, him studying the way your full lips pursed. The cool air sending shivers down his spine. Part of him wishes you hadn’t felt it but the other part of him wants you to know the effect you had on him.

He’s never been so vulnerable with any woman he’s dated. It was always surface level, figuring it was just easier that way. He believes it stems from his days back in high school when not many girls cared to look in his direction. He was “The Freak” after all and associating with him was social suicide. He’d like to imagine that if things had gone differently back then with your interaction with him, you’d accept him fully as he was. Nerd and all.

“All done!” You snap him from his thoughts. He looks down at his fingernails painted a deep, dark shade of blue.

“Looks great, little vixen. Should we try them out?” He peels away from your body now facing you. Pulling you by your legs so their spread apart. He climbs in between them, hands traveling up both thighs.

“I think they’d look great riiight…” Eddie presses two fingers against your clothed core, applying pressure. “Here.”

“No, Eddie,” You sigh. “As much as, I’d love to christen this hotel room. Your manager and your stylist will be stopping by soon. If they see me in your clothes, they’ll know for sure we’re sleeping together.”

“What does it matter? It’s like you want this to be a secret or something.”

“Well…yeah.” You twiddle with your fingers, nervously.

“Really? Huh. This is bringing up some unresolved high school trauma.” Eddie says, looking into space.

“I thought this was what we both wanted? To protect our careers?”

“I don’t remember having this talk.”

“Then, let’s have it now. We have to keep us a secret. If my boss finds out, he might pull the exposé and that’ll be the end of my career. As for you, rockstar, you’re supposed to be living that bachelor lifestyle. Having a girlfriend is only going to ruin that image. Your manager wouldn’t like that.”

“Fuck him.”

“Eds…if not for me, then do it for yourself. You’re living out your wildest dreams. You used to play in shady garages and ghost town venues wishing you could prove yourself. Now you’re touring the world, performing side by side with the greats of our time. This is your moment.”

“Okay.” He says in a dry tone.

“You mad at me?” You pout, rubbing your head on his shoulder like a cat and staring up at him,

His expressionless face instantly attempts to fight off a smile, clearly amused. “You look so cute in my sweater how can I be mad. But ya know what’d make me feel really good?”

You clamped your thighs together, adjusting yourself in the oversized sweater so you looked halfway decent. “Your manager’ll show up any moment now.”

“I just want a kiss.”

“I have to leave while I still have time.”

“You’re really gonna leave me hangin’?” He smiles innocently but the sinister aura around him says otherwise.

Yet, you lean in to kiss him anyway, falling into his trap of temptation. Could such sinful lips ever carry innocence? No, they were made to cause destruction. Bring you to your end. You were losing track of reality. Kissing him disregards space and time.

“Get it together, y/n! He wants this. Pull away! You know what this lead to.” Says the angel on your shoulder.

But the louder, ‘much more fun to listen to’ demon on your shoulder says, “FUCK THAT! KISS THE BOY! KISS HIM HARDDD!”

And you did so while climbing him like a tree. He moans his approval, nails digging into your plushy thighs. You circle your hips down, feeling him growing beneath.

Then, you hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s obnoxiously loud manager…In front of Eddie’s door!!

Curse that hedonistic bitch in me.

You roll off him, eyes searching for a place to hide just as you hear a knock.

“This is your fault.” You whisper.

“My fault?!” He whisper-yells.

“Tell me where to hide.”

“The closet?”

“They’ll go through your wardrobe.”

“Underneath the bed?”

You exhaled deeply, lowering to the ground. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is college all over again.”

“You’ve gotta tell me that story sometime.” He says, intrigued.

The sounds of banging grows louder. Eddie strides for the door, looking back to make sure that you’re hidden as you roll underneath the bed.

You hear the door locks click open and Mr. Neds immediately begins ranting at Eddie. “What took you so long, kid? We’re on crunch time. The boys are nearly dressed and you haven’t even changed out of your loungewear. And that hair! It’s all over the place!Where’s the hairstylist I sent up here?”

So that was all the knocking earlier this morning while you were resting in Eddie’s arms. Neither of you wanting to get up from exhaustion of your sexual marathon and because it meant breaking the cycle of warmth you both provided one another.

“My hair’s fine. My fans dig it this way.” Eddie defends.

“There’s an art to messy hair, Francis. Your hair’s not rockstar messy, it’s just messy. I’m calling another hairstylist. Maeve, pick out something that screams ‘sex symbol’.” Mr. Neds orders, walking out the room.

“Hello, Mr Francis,” The stylist greets, excitedly. “I’ll be your stylist for this tour. When I’m done, you’ll look as good as Mick Jagger. Although…you already are quite good looking.”

You roll your eyes at this. Here we go.

“I’m a huge fan by the way. Possibly the biggest fan.”She giggles, a hint a seduction paints her words.

“I like when pretty girls like you listen to my music.” You can just hear the smugness in his voice. He’s clearly aware that you’re listening in all of this, possibly thinking he could make you jealous. Ha! Not gonna happen.

She giggles some more. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Course I do, doll.”

Doll?! That bastard!

“I’ll go pick out your clothes and maybe…you could get out of those clothes. I can help you if you’d like.”She lays it on thick.

You’re sure that Eddie’s going to push this further to get a rise out of you. You can already feel your blood begin to boil, your heart aching. Instead, you’re stunned to hear him drop the act.

“Actually, Maeve...I’ll pass. Hope you can respect that.”

“Oh, a-are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” She grumbles in defeat. “I’ll get started with the outfit choices then.”

You smile to yourself, impressed. You hadn’t realize just how devoted Eddie was to this relationship. He meant it when he said you were his and he couldn’t possibly think of hurting you in such a way and messing things up.

The door swings open again and Mr. Neds walks in along with bandmate, Mel Tomas. Mel does a spin around flashing his look for Eddie to see. “I’m not sure how she’ll top this look for you. Pretty sure I’m hot enough to be the new favorite of the band.” He flexes his arms.

Eddie gestures discreetly with his eyes, calling the attention of the bass guitarist. Mel confused at first, scratches his head only for his eyes to immediately widen when he spots you beneath. You wave and smile awkwardly.

“Anyone want towels?” Mel blurts.

“What?” Mr. Neds questions. “The hell would we need towels for?”

“You’re looking a little sweaty, big guy. No worries. I’ll get the towel cart from the hall and bring it in here.” Mel projects his voice, hinting his plan while causing Maeve and Mr. Neds to stare in utter bewilderment.

Mel returns with the cart. Eddie doing all he can to stifle his laughter, watching him roll it in for you. For you to climb into the bottom shelf. A towel is draped over the sides to keep you from being spotted. He throws a towel for everyone in the room to keep any suspicions. “Going into the hallway now.” He calls out.

It’s a good thing he didn’t go into acting.

Once you’re a far distance enough, you crawl out and brought yourself to your feet. Mel shakes his head at you. “Et tú, y/n?”

“I know what it looks like…but it’s really not what you think it is.”

“I think it looks like you two are a thing.”

“Okay, so it is what you think. Please don’t tell anyone.” You clasp your hands together, pleading.

“Your secret’s safe with me. I’m just surprised Eddie managed to win you over.”

“Ughh, you say it like I’m some trophy.” You roll your eyes.

“Didn’t mean any offense. It’s just you’re so much badass than he’ll ever be.” He laughs, nudging your shoulder.

You flip your hair dramatically, smirking. “This is why you’re the smart one.”

—————

Mantra•esque. It was this generation’s Woodstock. 4 days of the hottest artists performing and Corroded Coffin’s making its large scale debut. People took this festival very seriously. Both when it came to the musical performances and the way you dress. You don’t go dressed in a casual t-shirt with your favorite band plastered on it. No. This was meant to be treated as if going to a rave. Brightly colored, scantily clad outfits that leave little to the imagination; Glitter makeup and wild hair; Eccentric shoes and body bedazzle, it was the time to dress like the hottest alien in town. A second halloween, if you will. Only even sluttier.

You’ve heard nothing or seen anything like it but it’s eye opening to say the least. With the help of your best friend over the phone, you’d managed to pick out a butterfly-themed rave look of a pink body suit accompanied with wings, fishnet tights, combat boots, body glitter and makeup.

Eddie didn’t let you out of his sight the moment you’d made it to the festival pit. He wouldn’t risk any guy trying to sweet talk you and him not being able to do anything about it.

He takes your hand and you know you should pull your hand away since there are all these witnesses. Yet, you romanticized the idea of him shamelessly holding your hand to show you off as his.

“When do you and the boys go up?”

“We go right Hell’s Fury. They’re a new band, too. They’re not so bad. The lead guitarist could use some lessons though.”

“Can’t you give a compliment without backhanding it.” You laugh.

“It’s not a backhanded compliment. It’s criticism and feedback. You of all people should understand, little miss journalist.”

“Well, that may be true but—” You let out an audibly gasp when you reach around the backstage, spotting a the very famous Stevie Nicks of Fleetwood Mac. “T-t-that’s Ste—Do you know who that is?!”

“Of course I—”

“Stevie Nicks!” You interrupt, shrieking.

“That was right in my ear,” Eddie says, wagging a finger in his ear. “Wanna go over to meet her?”

“N-no way. I couldn’t. They say you should never meet your heroes. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Not possible. You get a chance to be this close to her. Ya gotta go for it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just gonna walk up and say ‘hi’.” You stood frozen, paralyzed by fear.

“You’re not moving.” Eddie whispers.

“I will!” You say, defiantly as you continue to still in position.

He sighs. “I’ve got this, little one.”

He walks forward. You follow quickly behind him, hiding yourself like a scared kitten as you peeked over his shoulder.

Stevie Nicks spots your approach, amused when you shy away from her gaze. Eddie breaks the ice, chatting her up and introducing himself before making the final introduction for you.

“This is Y/n, she’s…my g—good friend.” He saves his near slip of the tongue. “Come on, Don’t be shy.”

He steps out of the way, revealing you to the singer. Your knees knock from your evident trembling. “M-m-my name is Y/n. B-but you already know that because h-h-he just introduced me. I’m a huge fan and I-I just wanted to say hi. So…hi!”

You say the last part a bit too loudly, causing her to jolt back but her smile never falters. Eddie smiles as well, entertained by the idea that you do actually fangirl.

It was clear to Stevie that there was something more between you. It was Stevie freaking Nicks. She sensed these things and the tension radiating between you two was as heated as the sun. “Isn’t it interesting how two people from very different worlds find each other?”

“Huh?” You both say simultaneously.

She giggles. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/n. Here,” She turns her attention to Eddie, removing the shawl around her shoulders and handing it to him. “A gift from me…to you…to her. Let her know you’ve got her and there’s no need to fight the feeling. I’ve gotta go in 5 but this was nice. Lookin’ forward to seeing you play, Francis. Good luck.”

She walks off, joining her group and leaving you soaring in your mind. You twirled around to face Eddie, jumping up and down in excitement. “You heard what she said. That’s for me.”

“She also said to stop fighting the feeling, yet you do. All the time. I’m starting to believe the old man at the diner was speaking specifically about you.“

“So I shouldn’t fight the rage I’m feeling towards you right now?” You hissed.

“What if…I give you your gift after the show?”

“Or…” You quickly retrieve the shawl, wrapping it around his neck and tugging him closer to you. “I could have it now and you’ll be rewarded for introducing me to my idol.”

You tug at the ends of the apparel a final time, forcing his lips to collide against yours. He smiles into the kiss and it makes you do the same. Once you pulled away, you snake the shawl from around him and brought it to your shoulders.

“What can I say? I had to stand up for my girl,” You blush at his words only to immediately sneer as the next sentence leave his lips. “You were such a goddamn scaredy cat.”

“It’s Fleetwood Mac.” You say, matter-of-factly.

“I mean, Stevie Nick’s great and all…but she’s no Metallica or Ozzy.”

“Oh, Quit the ‘cool dude’ act. I saw you blushing when she said she’d be watching you on stage. Also, I may have done some digging in your hidden cassettes collection. I know for sure you were internally screaming in her presence. Nothing to be ashamed of, though. Just means you’ve got great taste.”

He scrunches up his nose in adorably feigned anger. “You’re too nosy for your own good.”

“It’s only ever for my own good.”

——————

“You go on in 15, boys,” Mr. Neds announces, bum-rushing through the dressing trailer. “Pull yourselves together. Junie, ya getting this?”

“Ya know it, boss.” The photographer says, flashing the boys for another photo and blinding them.

“Hey! What happened to the photographer my boss specifically chose to accompany me?” You inquire the manager, crossing your arms.

“Oh, that guy? He didn’t make the cut. I’m looking for state of the art photos iconic enough to be plastered in every teen girl’s bedroom. Junie, here, knows what the girls want.” Mr. Neds says, pridefully. He pats his photographer on the shoulder, leaving the trailer to talk about their plans for a calendar edition.

“That’s disturbing,” You muttered before noticing the state of anxiety the boys were currently in. Each boy having their own fears.

Mel’s worries involved his outfit not being flashy enough. Judas’s worries involved his many exes being in the crowd seeking his head. Jessie’s worries involve his irrational fear of him popping a boner on stage while performing his drum solo.

Then there was Eddie, who was a mix of all their anxieties and more. What if he missed a beat, or he sings off key, or his hand cramps up during his guitar solo? He was THEE Francis the Freak. The lead man. The one who inspired the band itself. There was no room to fuck up or it meant the end for all of Corroded Coffin.

“You boys don’t look so good.” You say, concerned.

“I’ve gotta change my clothes.” Mel says, rushing over to the clothing rack.

“I’ve gotta find a helmet.” Judas says, also rummaging through wardrobe.

“I’ve gotta get duct tape.” Jessie searches through a nearby drawer.

Confused, you shook your head focusing on your boyfriend. “Eddie…you okay?”

“I don’t know about this, Y/n. Maybe we’ll just call this a night.”

“You can’t! You’ve performed in front of a crowd before. I’ve seen you up there. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re amazing.”

“You’ve seen me in decently-sized venues. But this…the whole world’s watching,” He lets out a dry laugh. “This was Corroded Coffin’s dream. The real Corroded Coffin. My buddies Gareth, Sid and Jeff were the ones meant to be by my side rocking the fuck out, headbanging, and saying ‘fuck all’ to whoever. But now it’s just me with these random dudes and I’m supposed to pretend like it’s always been this way.”

You hug around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But your friends are probably watching somewhere back in Hawkins, waiting to see you live out your moment. They wouldn’t want you to miss this opportunity because of them. Would they?”

He shakes his head ‘no’.

“Exactly. Again, if this isn’t what you want then you don’t have to go out there. But if it is, then you show them who you are. You’re not just Francis. You’re Eddie Munson of Hawkins, Indiana. The Freak with insane guitar skills and crazy vocals. The mop-headed metalhead that shredded ‘Master of Puppets’ in a room full of boring Hollywood executives. You aren’t you because you’re famous. You’re who you are because that’s just who you are. No other explanation. And even if things get overwhelming and you decide you’ve had enough of this, you’ll always have me cheering you on in the sidelines because I believe in you. I always did.” You look up at him, feeling him let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You gave him a small smile.

“That makes me feel a whole lot better.”

“Knew it would,” You say, brushing your shoulder in a celebratory manner. “You go and get those boys together. You’ve got a crowd to amaze.”

He nods, a newfound confidence taking over. Striding over to his silly bandmates, he cups his hands over his mouth to project his voice. “Hey, fuckwads,” The boys quickly halt their actions, turning their attention to the leas singer. He continues. “We’ve got 10 minutes before it’s showtime and you’re all acting as if you were caught with your hands on your dicks.”

Eddie pauses, glaring at Jessie who quickly pulls his hands out of his jeans.

“This isn’t new to us. We’ve been here before. It’s bigger and scarier. No doubt. But we’re better than this. We’re better than that fucking Hell’s Fury band and they went out there despite having the world’s shittiest guitarist. No more backing out. No more excuses. Today’s the day to prove ourselves. Now are we gonna rock the fuck out or not?!”

“I was born ready, ya cunt.” Judas chortles.

“Watch your female-targeted language. There’s a lady in here, you fuckin idiot.” Jessie disapproves.

“Sorry. ‘I was born ready, ya vagina.’ Satisfied?”

“I’m ready, too.” Mel chimes in.

“Then, let’s do this shit,” Eddie says, encouragingly. “We’ve got 5 minutes until spotlight. We’re movin out.”

With that, the boys hooted and hollered before rushing out of the trailer. Eddie nearly running behind them when he notices you staying back.

“You coming?”

“I won’t be standing side stage. I’ll lay my blanket front row with all the other sleazy journalists,” You quip. “That way you won’t have to constantly look on the side of you to make sure I’m there.”

“But I’ll be able to see you, right?”

“Of course…ooh!” You were just reminded of something. Rummaging through your small butterfly-winged backpack, you pulled out a little gift. “I was gonna wait til after the performance but I think you might need it. Just for a little boost.”

He looks down at it and smiles. It was the famous green mushroom sweater that he’d complimented you for years ago.

“You’ve given me enough gifts so that’s my gift to you.”

“Thanks, little vixen,” His famous smile returns, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “This’ll be perfect. See you after the show?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be waiting for you.”

——————

You quickly went to take your place in the front, noticing the band’s manager walking briskly up and down near the stage. The photographer beside him, flashing away with his camera at the empty stage.

“Have a seat, you two,” You say, patting the clear space on your blanket. “All this pacing back and forth and flashing is giving me headache. You’re going to ruin the experience for everyone.”

“I can’t help it! My ass is on the line with these boys.” Mr. Neds voices.

“Have a little faith. Now sit down or I’ll make the crowd revolt against you.” You threatened.

“Ughh, fine.” Mr. Neds plops down.

“The camera boy, too.” You ordered.

“But…”

“Sit!”

He quickly, sits down. “It’s Junie by the way. Not camera boy.”

“Don’t care.” You shrug.

The stage lights wave around at the crowd before shutting off. The stage going dark. Everyone waits in anticipation. Silence. The sound of a guitar rift pierces the air and the clashing of cymbals ring out then you hear one that familiar guttural screamo voice as the song “Follow the Leader” begins to play.

“Take me to your leader. I will fuck him up then eat her. I’m fuckin bottom feeder. A fiending twisted creature…”

The lights flash up, revealing the band. The crowd goes berserk, screaming and immediately rising to their feet to dance.

Mr. Neds’s big smile quickly falls flat. “What the fuck is he wearing?”

Eddie had removed the ripped up tank top shirt that the stylist had given him. Instead he’s shirtless, donning your mushroom sweater.

“Whoooo!” You cheered on, jumping and clapping as the song picked up. Even Junie had eaten up the look, taking pictures of the band in every angle he could think of.

Once Mel takes over with vocals, Eddie shoots you a quick wink and you nearly fangirled yourself. Maybe someday, you’ll let him know that you were secretly a new fan of his. Once his ego deflates, of course.

Assuming that’s something that could possibly happen.

You felt your stomach grumble when you spot Junie scarfing down a brownie.

“Where’d you get that?” You ask.

“Some really nice girls over there said it’ll be just what I need. I wasn’t even aware I was hungry.”

“Let me get a bite. I’m starved.”

He hands it over to you. You bite into it and it tasted slightly off. Aside from that, it was the right texture. Soft and sweet.

“This is so good.” You moaned.

“I know right.” Junie through bites.

“Wanna bite, Mr.Neds?” You offered.

“No, my blood sugars already so high, my stress levels are through the roof, my diet’s gone to shit…”

“Boy, you need a vacation. More for me and Junie boy.” You say, popping another piece into your mouth.

———

After two encores, the band finished their first day on stage. 3 more days to go and so far it looks to be a success. Once all performances ended, it was time for the after party. A large bonfire set up.

By this point, a familiar feeling took over you. The same feeling you felt when you smoked that joint with Eddie back home. Then, you realized…you were high as fuck. Higher than a motherfucking kite. This is exactly what your mother warned you about all those years. Taking goodies from a stranger is bad. Very bad.

You and Junie were laughing away at just about anything. “I don’t know if you noticed this, Junie, but we just ate pot brownies.”

“I’ve never been high.” He laughs.

“Neither have I up until about couple weeks ago.” You huffed another fit of laughter.

“You’re both idiots,” Mr. Neds mutters. “You’ve got jobs to do. Search for those boys and take some pictures and write something inspirational. Time is money.”

“Take a chill pill.” You say, rolling your eyes. Standing to your feet, you began your search for Eddie through the crowd. The thing about these hippie festivals is that every long-haired man reminded you of him.

“Eddie?!” You say turning over a random guy. Not him. Then another. And another until you bumped into a hard chest. You quickly turned to apologize. “S-sorry. I’m looking for my boyfriend—hey! I know you! You’re that prick photographer from Billy’s bar. You set me up with that photo. I hope you know.”

“Why is it that I always happen to meet you when you’re under the influence?”

“I’m not drunk, okay. I’m just a little high. Excuse me for thinking people give away brownies for the kindness of it all. What are you doing here, anyway?“

“I travel where the story goes. I also follow celebrities in search for my next project. And I’ll have you know, I didn’t take that picture of you and Francis.”

“You expect me to believe you? You can wait til hell freezes over and I wouldn’t believe you. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Just as you were about to walk away, he stops you in his tracks as he says, “Why? Looking to meet up with your boyfriend…Francis?”

“What are you talking about?”

“So where’s that boyfriend you’ve been looking for? If not Francis, then who’s the lucky man?” He says, dropping the innocent act.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to insinuate but Francis and I…are strictly professional.”

“Then, show me your boyfriend.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Because you have something to hide.”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business!”

“I’m her boyfriend,” You hear behind you. It was Junie the photographer, unceremoniously yet heroically stumbling over to you. “So back off buddy.”

“And you’re expecting me to believe this loser’s with you?” Cole laughs.

“Let’s go, Junie.” You grab his hand only for Cole to break the contact.

“Let’s be honest here, Y/n,” Cole invades your space. “Creative to Creative. We both know the truth.”

“Leave us alone.” You growl, trying to leave but Cole continues to block your path. A crowd soon beginning to form.

“Let us go!” Junie attempts to swing at Cole, who catches his fist in midair, punching him so hard it knocks him backward. The back of Junie’s head rears back, slamming against your mouth as you catch him before he could hit the ground. Your lips split and bleed but you ignore the sting, tending to the poor guy.

“Junie!” You call out, worried, before shooting daggers at Cole. “You asshole!”

“Hey, man. That’s not cool.” Says a voice from the crowd.

“None of this concerns you! Any of you. This is business! The whore’s not gonna get away with it.”

“Say that again.” A familiar voice says, the crowd parts a path for a very heated Eddie.

Cole smiles, wickedly. “Finally! This is what the fuck I’ve been waiting for. A goddamn hell of a story.”

Eddie sees you on your knees, cradling the wounded photographer. He sees red when he spots your busted lip, stomping forward towards his target.

“Eddie! Wait!” You forgotten to use his stage name around the crowd, more concerned with stopping him from doing anything that would get him in serious trouble. He looks back at you, still pissed as ever. You warm up your expression. “Don’t do it. Let’s just get out of here.”

He clenches and unclenches his fists. Cole convinced that he wouldn’t dare listen to you as a hotheaded rockstar. But Eddie does, glaring at the sorry excuse of a man one last time before helping you up as well as Junie.

“I’m sorry,” He says, regretfully. “I should’ve looked for you. It was just so many people that I couldn’t get to you.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” You smiled. Patting Junie on the shoulder, Eddie led the way to leave. The crowd cheers and it causes the testosterone in the instigating enemy to rise.

“Have fun with another one of your whores, Francis.” Cole calls out.

Eddie stops in his tracks and you knew all hell will break loose. “No, Eddie. Don’t!”

He turns on his heels, rushing over to the heckling fool. Cole believes he’ll get a one up on Eddie, swinging his fist to connect with his face. Eddie reverses this action using Cole’s own hand to punch him square in the face.

The crowd cheers and laughs as a disoriented Cole falls back into the dirt.

Walking back over to you, Eddie rolls his shoulders to release any tension. “You’re my witness. He punched himself.”

———-

The night started out celebratory. The group popping champagne in Eddie’s hotel room. It was supposed to be a night out in town to end the night right but the boys had another 3 days to perform so they would soon be heading to bed.

“You were incredible, Junie. Super brave. Thank you for coming to my rescue.” You say, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, that was pretty badass.” Eddie compliments.

“Aww, it’s no big. Always wanted to get in a fight with a guy that looked like my high school bully.” Junie comments.

“So that’s why I got my ass kicked at my party. You two were an item the entire time,” Jessie says. “You gonna kick every guy’s ass that even remotely stands near her?”

“Oh, hell yeah. 100%.” Eddie affirms.

“What did I tell you?” You say, tugging on his ear. “I can handle myself.”

“Ow, ow, ow. My ears are still freshly pierced.” Eddie hisses.

The group laughs and the festivities continue up until there’s a hard knock on the door that halts it altogether. Eddie answers the door and the look on his manager’s face indicated that this was no joyous news.

“Awww, what is it now? You’re harshing our mellow, man.” Eddie groans.

“Yeah, what’s got your knickers in a twist?” Judas questions.

“The executive editor of Hey Hello Magazine is thinking of pressing charges.” Mr. Neds says, solemnly.

“Why would the editor…oh my god?” It just hit you that Cole was not only a photographer but a writer of that magazine.

“What is going on with you, Eddie? I used to beg you to take on the bad boy persona in interview now all of a sudden your exactly that,” Mr. Neds sighs. “You’ve fought your bandmate and now you’re getting into fights with influential writers? What is it? What’s making you act out of control?”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, back at you. You shake your head, fearing he’s give it up.

He looks back at his manager. “It’s nothing…. The dickhead started it first. I didn’t punch him. He punched himself and he’s too embarrassed to admit it.”

“No more of these shenanigans, Eddie. You’re actions have consequences. To lessen your erratic behavior, I’ve come up with a solution you won’t like but it’s for your own good. I’ll be assigning you all bodyguards.”

“Nooo.” “What the fuck?” “Are kidding me?” The boys protest all at once.

“Yes. Because even if you didn’t start the fight, people will look for a fight just to ruin your careers because of jealousy and greed. People are searching for big payouts and assault from a famous star is their big break. But luckily for you, the editor has agreed to drop all charges on one condition.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“He wants a meeting…with your journalist.”

“Hell no.” He growls.

“It’s not your choice. It’s the lady’s. So..whadya say say, Y/n?” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you.

“I’ll do it.” You say with no hesitation.

“Great! I’ll make the arrangements.”

Eddie glares at you. “Would you all excuse me? I’m going to escort my journalist to her room. She’s not thinking straight with all the pot she’s ingested.”

He takes your hand, leading you out his door and towards yours. “What the hell? Why’d you agree to it? It’s only what he wants.”

“Because it’ll get him to shut up. He’s riding the high of this story he thinks he’ll get from me and you.. His issues are with me and only I can end it.”

“If I knew the journalism world was this bad, I would’ve never signed up for this expose and put you through this.”

“But then we’d never be the way we are now. I don’t regret that. Do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then, let me do this for you.” You cup his face, fingers laced in his curls.

He nods.

“You looked good in my sweater, by the way.” You smiled, playfully.

He smirks. “Wanna taken it off?”

“I want to. So bad and so much. But I’m sooo high.”

“That’s one of the best time to fuck.”

“Everyone’s right across the hall and I don’t think I’m sober enough to be quiet. Buuut… you can put me to bed in the non-sexual way.” You smiled, turning around and pulling off your tiny bag and the shawl for him to access your zipper.

He lowers it, slowly bringing down your bodysuit to kiss your shoulder. It all felt so sensual. The bodysuit pools around your feet. Your bare breasts make contact with the cool air, sensitive buds hardening. You were only in your black thong and fishnets.

He runs his large hands over the front of your thighs, pressing his erection against your ass. Hooking his index fingers in the sides of your tights, he brings them down your legs as well.

When you felt him try to do the same with your panties, you pull away. “You’re being naughty.”

“Why are you being such a tease?” He groans. “I thought you were mine.”

“I am yours.”

“Then, show me.”

You chuckled, crawling onto your bed on all fours. You exaggerated the arch in your back, ass in the air as you swayed side to side. Then, you roll into the shawl wrapping it around you and shielding your breasts from his eager eyes.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Eddie.”

“Hope you know that this will be the most energetic I’ll be for these few days. If you don’t take advantage now…you’ll regret it.” He singsongs the last part.

“Goodnight.” You singsong back, curling up to your pillow.

He couldn’t help but laugh, staring down at your exhausted figure. Pulling the blanket over you, He kisses your forehead. “No more taking brownies from strangers.”

“Yes, daddy.” You mumbled, drifting off to sleep.

He tries to remove the shawl around you but you grip it tighter in your slumber. With one last smile, he shuts off the lights and leaves you to dream peacefully.

——————-

The next day would be hell for you and Eddie. You didn’t even get the chance to see him much. His entire day was spent rehearsing for day two of tonight’s festival. Meanwhile, you’d gotten a call from Murray who was very disappointed in you for being behind on your work, so you spent your day writing with little motivation.

You’re mind had gone elsewhere. To more pressing depressing matters. Cole. Your new arch nemesis. Your rivalry. Your enemy. All the names in the book that would describe his fate in your eyes. He needed to go down and hard. But how?

Tonight, you’ll be missing Corroded Coffin’s second appearance because you were meeting up with him to discuss whatever his evil plans were for you.

All you could do is see off the boys in the afternoon as they gathered onto the giant tour bus toward destination.

“You really don’t have to do this? I can just get a lawyer. He wouldn’t stand a chance.” Eddie says.

“I need to do this or he’ll just keep coming after me. You’ll be okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” He nods. “I’ll see you late tonight?”

“What about your new friends?” You whispered, gesturing to the two giant bodyguards a few feet behind him.

“I have my ways.” He smirks, mischievously.

“Whatever you plan on doing…don’t.” You teased, pulling his hat over his face.

He lifts the brim over his eyes with a finger. “This is why I don’t wear these darn things. I’ll be noting this to Maeve,” He jokes, then spreads out his arms for a hug. You go in for a handshake instead, reminding him that you were both in public.He reluctantly shakes it.

With a final goodbye from the boys, everyone boarded the bus and were off on the road.

Now that they were off doing their work, you’ll be doing yours. It was time to dive into the mind of the sleaziest journalist. If this was a dog eat dog world then you’ll gladly join the game. You were going to get some dirt on Cole and make him pay.

——————

You sat across the devil in a tea shop. He smiles a dangerous smile, believing he’s won.

“First, I wanna start off by saying that I apologize to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean to call you a whore.”

“Fuck you. I don’t care for your apologies.”

“You’re very well entitled to not forgive me. I just needed to get that off my chest. How’s your lip, by the way? It doesn’t look bad from what I see.”

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Cole. I’m not here for small talk. What the fuck do you want from me? Why are you trying to sabotage my exposé?”

“Because you’ve talked down on my Magazine enough. You and your company! Then you write this article and now you’re all I see. Everywhere. ‘30 Days With A Rockstar’. I’ve had enough! But soon… the world will know the truth. ‘Francis The Freak dating his journalist?’. Your exposé will be seen as bias. And my story on you will crush yours.”

“So you started a fight and threatened to press charges…because you want to make a better story?”

“I was never going to press any actual charges. I just knew it was the only way you’d agree to meet me again. Because you care about him. Because you’re a couple.”

“We’re not!”

“I have eyes all around, Y/n. I really didn’t take that photo of you and Francis at the bar. But I did write the article. I’ll admit it. As you already know, I’m the exec and lead editor of Hey Hello and I don’t take to kindly of the slander my company’s faced at the hands of your company. So, I’ll give you three options. Either work with me and give me the rights to your story or you could tell me the full story about you and Francis or I can really press charges and everyone loses.”

“How about a fourth option? You leave me and Francis alone…and I won’t put out an article about you getting sexual favors from your female employees so they can secure their jobs. Abuse of power story? You’ll never work in this business again.”

His eyes widened. “I’ve never done such a thing.”

“Tell that to the several employees that have come forward to personally speak with me. I have eyes and ears, too, ya know.”

“You bitch!” He snarled.

“Awww, I thought we were friends.” You teased, pouting.

“You just wait. I will find the truth. And when I do, you’ll be just another slut that fell for a trashy rockstar.”

You slap him, causing him to yelp. “Go ahead and press charges on me, too. Fuck you and your shitty magazine.”

You shot up from your seat, walking out. Not once looking back. Little did he know, you’d already released the article on him. That morning, you’d found your motivation to write after all.

———

It was 3 am and the Band had yet returned. Even if you wanted to see Eddie, you knew his guards would be right outside his door, keeping you seeing him at these hours.

Right now you’re lying in bed, moping as you began to question your relationship. Maybe you’d both jumped into it too soon. Everything is moving so fast and now you had a huge target on your back which, in turn, would effect Eddie.

Little taps hit against your window, you rise your head up in confusion. You sauntered over to the window, lifting it up and glancing down. Eddie waves at you from below.

“Eddie!”

“Shhhh!” He holds out his hands, signifying you to lower your voice.

“How’d you get out here? I thought you’d be guarded up in your hotel room.”

“I snuck out. Climbed out my window and took the stairs on the side of the building. Told you I’d come see you so here I am. Now you climb out.”

“No! It’s dangerous,” You stared in horror at the rickety metal stairs. “These look all rusty and unstable.”

“But I’ve got somewhere to show you.” He says, throwing up his arms in frustration.

“Fine, but I’m going out and down on the elevator like a normal person.”

“All that work when you could just come down this way?”

“It’s not work. It’s safe.” You throw on a coat over your nightgown and then some boots, before heading out the door. The bodyguards outside Eddie’s door spot you.

“Just leaving for some fresh air.” You explained, nervously. They turned their attention away from you, speaking amongst themselves.

You rushed down to the lobby and made it out to see Eddie, turning to smile as he held out his hand. You take it and he immediately leads the way.

“You’re a bad influence.” You laugh.

“So, I’ve been told.”

It was not a far distance from the hotel where you headed off to. You found yourself at an intimate park setting that had a showing of ‘Rocky Picture Horror Show’ playing on a big projector screen. Couples sitting on their respective blankets as they watched the film.

“I love this movie.” You whispered.

“Yeah? So do I.”

He lays out the blanket for you both to sit, finding a nice spot in a corner by the bushes.

“How’d you know they’d be playing a showing so late this night?”

“Dirk told me.”

“You mean the lead guitarist from Hell’s Fury. You’re on first name bases now? Are you going to braid each other’s hairs, too?”

“Please stop talking,” He says, trying not to laugh. “He’s actually not a bad guy. Hell of a stoner, though.”

“Glad your meeting more people in your circle.”

He nods. “I guess.”

“Thank you for bringing me out here. I needed this. Especially, after my meet up with that loser.”

“How was it?”

“This guy’s been on my tail the entire time since I’ve started this article. He’s been jealous of my success. The misogynistic pig. He said either I tell him about us or join him.”

“Join him? Like Darth Vader?”

“You nerd,” You giggled. “Yeah, just like Darth Vader.”

“So what happened after that?”

“I blackmailed him. Told him I’d out his scandal about his power imbalance and perverted behavior towards his female colleagues. I’m already in the works of outing him, though. No woman should ever work with that creep.”

“Ooo, you can get dirty.”

You shrug, playing off cool. “I can be a real bitch.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Fuck you!” You shove him, saying it loud enough for a couple people to shush you.

“Sorry.” You and Eddie whisper in unison.

——

It’s now 5 am. You’re on your way back to the hotel, laughing and quoting lines from the movie. Eddie insisted you both take the metal stairs this time which you reluctantly take. Him following close behind in case you faint from looking down. When you made it to your window, you climbed in first.

“We’re a little like Romeo and Juliet. Don’t ya think?It’s kinda romantic.”

He kisses you softly after you say this, making your steady heartbeat pound furiously in your chest. He breaks the kiss, licking his lips.

“Does Romeo get to climb into Juliet’s window and rock her world?”

“I thought you wouldn’t have energy for that?”

“I’ve got enough.” He attempts to climb in but you put your hand over his face, stopping him.

“No. You need sleep, big boy. Your day begins at 7.”

“You’re really missing out on some blessings, little vixen. I’m in the mood to eat pussy.”

You shuddered. So. Very. Tempting. That mouth as infuriating as it can be when he spoke, it was just as talented at many other things including knowing it’s way around the female anatomy. “I’ll pass.” You squeaked.

“Sure bout that? I’m looking to make those legs shake. Fuck you with my fingers and tongue,” He does have a nice, thick…long tongue. “Drink you til your stupid and can barely speak.”

You clamp your thighs together. “Ughh, no!”

Mustering up the shred of restraint you had left, you shut the window and locked it, leaving him standing there dazed.

His face drops in a dull look as he sticks up his two middle fingers at you. You do the same, causing you both to burst with laughter. With a final dramatic bow, he says his goodbye and makes his exit down the stairs.

You flung yourself onto the mattress. You couldn’t believed you turned him down. He’s literally your fucking boyfriend! Take advantage! Where was the shoulder demon bitch when ya needed her?!

God, that pretty mouth. I’m such a stupid bitch.

Then, your mind recalled Chrissy’s ‘gift’ to you. With a sigh, you retrieve the item from the drawer. It wasn’t him. But it would be enough.

———

It wasn’t enough! The remaining few days of the show caused your private nights with Eddie to grow shorter and shorter. The moments when you didn’t have to sneak around were spent being as far apart from one another as possible to deter any suspicions from his manager. Eddie had gotten extremely fatigue from the long days of rehearsal and having to perform on stage hours after. You worried that the boys would soon burn out.

When he’d snuck into your bedroom after the last night of Manta•esque, he’d all but crashed face first into your mattress. He only had enough energy for you both to the night for some writing ideas. He excitedly yet tiredly spoke of receiving praise letters from some of his favorite artists who’ve seen the event televised.

“It’s insane,” He yawns. “People actually like our music. They want to hear more from us. We’re already in talks of getting signed to an official label and having a new album.”

“That’s incredible!” You say, placing his head in your lap and playing in his hair.

“Right.” He yawns, once again.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“Wanna stay here.” He grumbles against your thigh.

“It’s not a good idea.”

“So what? I miss you. And who knows if I’ll ever get this much time with you again?“

“Why do you mean?”

He’s quiet.

“Eds?” You called for his attention.

“I’ll be touring again,” He admits. “It’ll be around the time the exposé’s done.”

“Okay? We’ll still get to see each other.”

“No,” He sits up. “At least not for a while. My manager’s got us a tour around Asia then back to Europe for France. I’ll only be staying in Hawkins for about a week and a half then I’m back on the road again.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I knew we shouldn’t have done this.”

You stand to your feet, heading for the door when he grasps your wrist. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to go somewhere to think.”

He caresses your face. “Y/n, I want to be with you.”

“We’ll hardly ever see each other.”

“Then, I won’t do the tour.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Or you can come with me! I don’t fucking know! I just don’t want this to end. I can’t go back to life without you.”

“Neither can I. I wouldn’t feel like myself without you.”

“So does this mean you’ll leave with me? We won’t have to hide our relationship.”

“I can’t just drop everything and travel the world with you, Eddie. I have my dreams, too. I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t say that.” He begs, narrowing the gap between your lips.

“I can’t…” You say, weaker this time, eyes fluttering closed as he closes the gap between your lips. He kisses away your tears.

You’re lost in his kiss, wrapping your arms around him when a throat clears forcing you both to jolt apart. There stood Mr. Neds with the extra key card you’d given Eddie.

You were so fucked.

————-

“I come to your bedroom and your missing. Window’s open. I knew you snuck out at that point. I’ve always had this gut feeling that there was something going on between you and this fully confirms it,” Mr. Neds turns his attention to you. “I warned you the first day that this would happen. I told you that this would be serious shit and yet, unsurprisingly, you sleep with him.”

“Back off. It’s not her fault.” Eddie defends.

“Both of you are to blame! All this time these unfortunate events that keep happening and it was all because you two are secretly dating. A poorly kept secret at that. You both are all over each other. I’ve been in denial but this proves my concerns.”

“Please don’t tell my boss. He’ll pull the article and this will all be over.”

“I won’t tell him anything. I want this exposé out as badly as you. People are loving it so far. But no more secrets. At least not between us. If this is what you both want, I won’t stop you. But it could only ever be in private. This stays here. No one else will know.” Mr. Neds states.

Only he couldn’t be more wrong. This secret will soon go beyond these walls because in about the next 2 days at approximately 12:30 pm on a Tuesday, the whole world will read about the scandalous romance between a rockstar and his journalist.

Taglist: @that-idiot125 @strangerthingsstories5255

@haylaansmi @tlclick73 @chcolateeyelver

@apolixyan @micheledawn1975 @maystecc @gay-weirdo262772 @itswormtrain @httpmedxsa

@3m0xbunn1 @bebe0701

@lokiofasgard616 @joeyfilth @secretdryrose

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@moonisu @mopeymopeymouse @lluviamg06

@shinydixon @cherrysoda444 @lovelyvivii @therese01 @keiracottreau @mirrorsstuff @eddiemunson95 @e-munson666

@munson-fixation @paradoxicalconundrum @lulukings92 @sherrylyn628 @szalipcombo @elamity @munsonswhore86 @kellsck @die-irre-blog @creoleguurl @edsforehead @munsonswhore86

[deadbydangit]

Ah! I’m obsessed with your writing!! If you don’t mind, I would like to make a request! 🩷

A killer!reader who is very quiet due to shyness, so they have a difficult time trying to get along with others 😔 (characters of your choice! but I’d like to see Wesker because I like him very much haha)

If there are any struggles, don’t feel pressured !! Take care and Thank you!

I think I can do that. I'm going to tweak it a little so it's easier to write about. Please enjoy.

With a shy reader: Mastermind, Nightmare, Onryo

Mastermind

Wesker doesn't mind that you're shy.

He isn't the most talkative person himself.

He can be, if he has to be.

But he would otherwise prefer to remain quiet.

It isn't that he shy, he just rather not talk to the others.

He finds them annoying and not worth conversing with.

Having a super outgoing partner wouldn't work well for him.

He's the type who would prefer to stay home rather than go out.

So if you don't want to go out?

That's fine by him.

Besides, he finds your coy nature to be charming.

And, he won't say it out loud, but he thinks it's adorable.

Though he will poke fun of you from time to time.

"Speak up dearheart. I won't know what you want unless you tell me."

"Ah, you're blushing. How adorable."

He'll even pinch your cheeks.

Part of all this is him just being a tease.

The other part is him trying to get you to stand up for yourself.

He may not vocalize it, but he is worried about you.

He knows he won't always be around to protect you.

And you're going to have to confront others eventually.

He may seem like he's being mean, but it's really his way of showing he cares.

But he isn't like that all the time.

If you're in a situation you're uncomfortable with, just tug on his jacket.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. We can leave."

And it doesn't matter what he's doing either.

If you want to leave, then he'll help you.

Nightmare

Shy?

With this guy?

Good luck.

This asshole is going to tease you till you're close to tears.

Freddy does that with everybody so don't take it too personally.

That's one of the reasons that most of the other killers and survivors don't like him.

He doesn't like them either. Which is why having you shy is nice because he doesn't have to deal with them around.

It could just be the two of you. He's fine with that.

But having you so shy, and so unwilling to stand up for yourself, it's prime gold for him.

What, you expect him not to take advantage of this opportunity?

In your dreams.

Which is where he often is.

Teasing you and poking at you.

Just seeing how red your face gets when you get so worked up.

He can't get enough of it.

If you actually start crying you will stop though.

But only if you start crying.

Otherwise he won't put on the brakes just because you're his significant other.

But, if you say something, he'll stop.

"Come on baby. I can't hear you. What do you want?"

While he's laughing in your face.

Don't get too mad at him though.

It's just how this idiot shows his love.

Onryo

You two could be shy together.

It isn't so much that Sadako is shy.

She just doesn't talk.

And, nearly all her experience with people is bad.

So the less people around, the better for her.

Unlike the others, she won't taunt or tease you.

She likes that you're quiet.

It's peaceful that way.

Most of her life was filled with sadness and hate, so the silence is a welcome change.

You two could sit in silence for hours, not saying a thing.

And she would be perfectly fine with that.

But, if you do want to talk, she'll listen.

She enjoys hearing you speak.

The sound of your voice is relaxing and comforting.

And she'd never judge you.

So don't ever feel embarrassed about speaking.

You won't ever have to worry about someone taunting you either.

Because Sadako we'll take care of them in a matter of seconds.

Can't bully somebody if your neck is broken.

She'll make a gruesome show of torturing the person who was bothering you to others.

It's her way of saying that you are under her protection.

And God help anyone who decides to mess with you now.

[petermorwood]

This popped up on my YouTube the other day and not to brag, but...

Oh, why the hell not? It's a small brag, but satisfying. :->

I posted about refilling the Pilot Vpen (IRL-UK) / Varsity (US) - and adding how-to links - about 4 years and then again a year ago.

Here are the how-to links; I'm glad to see they're still active.

This one, like the video, calls for pliers and suggests removing the nib:

This one doesn't use pliers or separate the nib from the feed.

*****

Bragging aside, I'm pleased to see Brian Goulet of Goulet Pens giving this hack a higher profile (and Kudos for it, too - as a retailer it's more in his interest to sell them than refill them!)

His reason is very sound: those cheap little pens (usually about 3-to-4 local currency units whether €, $ or £) are ideal for FP-curious newbies or as no-loss-worries when travelling or no-damage-worries loaners.

They also have much better nibs than the price would suggest. Indeed that seems common to all the inexpensive Pilot pens I've tried, which includes every nib size of MR / Metropolitan.

In addition, IMO the notion of "disposable" fountain pens goes completely against the principal FP virtue, where once you've bought the pen, all you USE is the ink.

So in the US at least * buy that ink from Goulet. They've got one or two to choose from and a selection of samples in vials or sets...

( * In Ireland, with Pen Corner in Dublin now gone, I get mine from CultPens or Penstore.)

*****

I should mention, for completeness, that some "starter" fountain pens have prices not much more than these disposables and, refilled by "proper" ink cartridges / bottle-refill converters, don't involve anything like this trouble.

Just saying...

*****

It just so happens that one of my two Vpens was about due for a refill, so here are some pics of the process.

I scrubbed the markings off the barrels a long time ago so I could see what was inside, since refills mean the ink in the pen often has nothing to do with its colour-indicator cap.

First, disassembled and washed in changes of warm water until the water stays clear.

Here's the nib and feed: they've always come out of both Vpens as a single unit, with no need for pliers. Since the nibs show no desire to come off I've no desire to force the issue and maybe break something; those little ink-guide fins are delicate.

The filler is a small syringe begged from our local vet. I also use it to refill cartridges with custom ink colours (yup, I sometimes roll my own...)

Its "needle" is plastic tubing (an empty Pilot gel-pen cartridge, appropriately enough) which fits the syringe perfectly, and a pointy end made by stretching the tube over a candle-flame then snipping to length. If it gets too stained - this is nearly there - just chuck it in the recycle bin and make a new one.

The ink could have been any of the 30-odd I have at the minute, or something mixed specially, but I chose this one - a nice dark green - for the same reason @dduane had me buy it.

It's a very cute bottle... :->

*****

And here's the "disposable" pen refilled, reassembled and re-writing.

It really does have a better nib than you'd expect from a supposedly single-use pen...

*****

It sometimes takes a while for the ink to work its way by capillary action down from barrel to nib, especially if everything has been left to dry after washing. Put the cap on the pen and be patient.

Or speed things up by taking the cap off and running a thin stream of hot water over the barrel for 30 seconds or so. This increases internal pressure, forcing the ink along the section fins.

NB, this step is only for a refilled Vpen / Varsity. Don't try it with anything else, and in case it's not obvious, do this at a washbasin or sink, because You Never Know.

Now use a bit of kitchen paper or loo roll to blot the water which has got on the nib. This has a mild "suction" effect, and when you see ink on the paper (you might need to wet the nib again) your refilled pen is ready for use.

This wet-and-blot nib step can be used to encourage any stubborn fountain pen to get back in action, but the hot water trick, once again, is Vpen only.

Anyway, done.

[aernx]

꧔ WHAT THE HEART WANTS — ! (종성)

you were never really his. but gosh, who can stop the heart from getting what it wants right? [ wc 0.2k ]

꒰ warnings ꒱ toxic relationship, mentions of cheating (not jay) ꒰ genre ꒱ roomate au, one sided love (sorta?), angst/comfort

It’s the second time this week that Jay’s seen you cry. It pains him so to see you in such state. With your eyes red and puffy, the tissues scattered on your side, it took all his self control to not just march up and pull you to his embrace.

But he knows he can’t. Not when you’re not his to begin with. So, instead he did what he can.

You quickly took another set of tissues, wiping your tears in a quick manner—composing yourself as you notice jay drawing near.

It’s your second time crying this week and you feel like a mess. A few minutes ago, you just found out from your best friend that your boyfriend have been cheating on you with the girl he said you shouldn’t worry about.

Gosh what did you do to deserve this? You’ve always been a good partner for him, yet why did he did this to you in return?

Your current thoughts went halt as you feel a sudden pressure beside you. Feeling embarrassed was an understatement. Your roomate, Jay, has seen you cry your heart out for a plethora of times. For the same reason, that is (your boyfriend).

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I’ll go to my room.” Yet you feel his hand grip your wrist before you can even leave. “It’s him again isn’t it?”

Your silence only prod his suspicions. “You can talk about it, y’know? Keeping it inside only makes it harder.”

You put yourself back to the cushions as you turn your head to your roomate—who is looking at you with such sincerity and concern it makes your heart break a little.

Why does he care? But deep down, you’re glad that he does.

“It’s the second time you cry this week. Tell me, what did he do again to let you waste your precious tears like this, hm?” He turned your chin up with his fingers before gently cupping your face as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the stray tears.

Your heart warms at his actions. The sight of Jay in front of you starts to blur as a glass-like layer starts to brim upon your sclera.

You can’t take it anymore. You let the tears stray across your visage, staining your features with its path. Jay’s eyes soften at the sight before him. Sure, he has seen you cry due to your boyfriend before but this, it was different.

You melt yourself into his embrace as this roommate of yours softly whispers you sweet nothings while gently patting your back. “Shh it’s okay, darling. Cry all you want. Don’t bottle it inside.”

“H-he cheated on me, Jay. He cheated on me with the girl he said not to worry about. I-I saw them kissing under the bleachers.” You sobbed against his chest, pulling him tightly as you cry your heart out for the second time this week.

The soft expression he had shifted into a hard glare. His jaws clench as he tightened the grip the had on your back. Cursing silently at your boyfriend—now ex, planning different things he might do before looking down to you.

“Listen to me. He doesn’t deserve you okay? All he can do is make you cry and cry. It pains me to see you hurt like this.” He pats your head before gently cupping your tear stained cheeks.

“I can’t help it Jay. I keep falling into his false promises. I’m scared that if I let him go, no one will love me the same.” The vision in yours eyes starts to fog once more, leading Jay to welcome you in his arms.

“You’re wrong, darling- wait actually you’re right.” You scrunch your eyebrows at him in confusion, not expecting him to agree with you. But before you could jump into conclusions, he said something that halt your mind process.

“If you leave him, no one will love you the same but someone will love you more. I will love you more. Give me a chance, sweetheart. Just one and let me show you how love is supposed to feel. Let me love you the way you u deserve to be loved.”

For the thousandth of time, your eyes water at his confession. Never in a lifetime has your boyfriend utter those words of his. Never.

“One chance is all I need. I will show it to you, my love.”

“Do you promise, Jay?”

“I promise.”

aerin’s notes ! — yah guys i didn’t know how to end this i hope it turns out alright 😭 nets : @enhanet @hyfenet

PERMANENT TAGLIST (๑•̀ᗢ•́๑) @1-800shutthefuckup @astrae4

© aernx 2023 / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! let me know if you have any suggestions ! comment ur thoughts n reblogs n likes wld be appreciated <3

[nyxlaufeyson]

Slut!

Loki Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist

POV: Second

Ship: Loki x Reader

Type: Fluff + Angst

Wordcount: 7,082

Song: Slut (Taylor's Version) [From the Vault] by Taylor Swift Listen Here

TW: There is a lot of insecurity kinda going on with the reader, and also some alcohol usage that probably isn't healthy but it's not that bad.

Synopsis: You see Loki at a pool party and can't get him out of your head. More meetings happen. Insecurity happens. And then, finally, confessions happen!

A/N: Okay so I don't know why there are way too many parties in this fic but idc because it works out for what I was going for. Enjoy this, and sorry for not being as active life really is crazy and it's abt to be tech week. My theatre people, you get me.

Also, the reader turned out to be more fem this time, sorry, it just worked out that way. Not too many mentions of gender though.

Flamingo pink, Sunrise Boulevard

The first time you saw him in-person was at a pool party you and your dad had been invited to. You were the child of a prominent businessman who had several connections with other rich businessmen. Which, given the nature of these men, meant that you had to attend a lot of parties. 

It wasn’t the type of party you were used to attending, because it usually consisted of a bunch of people drinking, crappy music, and people dancing right up on each other. This party was toned back, with the guest list significantly reduced. This was due to the fact that the party was a celebration for a business deal between your father and the billionaire Tony Stark. 

Since it was a more private affair, you felt like there was a lot more attention on you. The Avengers were there, which still put you to awe, even if you had seen them at several parties. This time, however, some of them actually came up to talk to you.

You froze up as The Black Widow approached you, unsure of what to do or say. “Cute swimsuit.”

She just complimented you. The Black Widow just complimented you. How were you supposed to process that?!

“Uhm- thank you!” You said, looking down at your flamingo-pink swimsuit. It was flattering on you, but it made you feel exposed. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to get a new swimsuit before the party, and it was the only one that still fit you. “Do you really think so?”

She nodded, sitting down in a lounge next to you. “Of course.” She offered you a drink, and her smile felt refreshing. 

You took the drink, thanking her. You made introductions, and began to talk.

“What’s it like being an Avenger?” You asked, and then immediately felt repulsed that you would ask her a question she probably had to answer hundreds of times. “Sorry-I’m sure everyone asks you that-”

She waved her free hand. “Don’t worry about it, it’s okay to be curious.” She paused to take a sip of her drink. “Honestly? It’s hard sometimes, with everyone always on your back. Everyone expects you to be perfect.”

I nodded. “I get the feeling. Not that I have that level of pressure, of course, but I still feel like I’m supposed to be perfect all the time. This one time, when I was eight, I stole a chocolate egg. I knew it was wrong, and my dad caught me and made me return it, but the media was on me for weeks. ‘Eight-year-old criminal executes heist despite being rich.’ I don’t get it. I was eight, and made a mistake. Shit happens, you know?”

She agreed with you, and you continued conversing. You got to learn some interesting things about her, and she learned some things about you. You were sure that yours were boring in comparison, but she didn’t make you feel inferior. 

As you were talking, more people arrived and the sun began to set. You turned towards it, gasping. “Holy shit, look at that!” The sky was a beautiful mix of oranges, pinks, and purples. It definitely was one of the best sunsets you had seen. 

“It’s beautiful,” Natasha said, “There’s a reason they call this Sunrise Boulevard. There’s an excellent view for a sunrise or a sunset.”

Clink, clink, being this young is art

You smiled, admiring the sky before the sun would inevitably disappear. Natasha raised her glass towards yours, and you clinked them together. “To sunrises,” she said, “and new friends.”

New friends. You couldn’t help but grin a little wider. 

Aquamarine, moonlit swimmin' pool

Suddenly a man with a microphone-Tony Stark-amped up the music and yelled, “Alright ladies and gentlemen, let's get this party started!”

With that, several people whooped and hollered, and a man with long blonde hair hopped up and ran into the now-moonlit swimming pool. “CANNONBALL!” He screamed before jumping in, and making a splash that couldn’t have been made by a human. When he came up from the jump, you recognized him as Thor.

Natasha chuckled, and then stood up. She held her hand out to you, and she helped you up. “Have you gotten the chance to meet the others yet?” 

You shook your head. “No, I haven’t. I’ve met Stark briefly, but it was more of a formal, business introduction.” 

She smiled at you, dragging you in the direction of a small cluster of people. “Well then, let’s introduce you.” 

Your eyes went wide, and you tried to pull back. “Uh, I’m actually going to go use the bathroom. I’ll be back!” You said, turning to leave. It was one thing when someone cooler than you comes up to you and makes introductions, but going up to them and introducing yourself? That was something you couldn’t do. 

Unfortunately, Natasha caught your bluff, and pulled you back towards her. “I can see right through you. Don’t worry, it will be fine, they’re not going to judge you.” 

“But you guys are the Avengers. You’re literally superheroes! I look like a loser next to all of you.” You didn’t know where all of this was coming from, but you felt comfortable enough in Natasha’s presence to voice your feelings. 

She sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, it is all in your head. Don’t let the anxiety get to you.” She managed to steer you back towards the group. “Plus, you have me here to introduce you.”

Although your anxiety was still there, you let her pull you up and introduce you to several of her teammates. You recognized several of them from clips you had seen of them on TV, and you were most certainly overwhelmed when they started to shake your hand. 

You had been introduced to a number of the Avengers, when a wet Thor walked up to the group, not noticing you at first. “Has anyone seen my brother?”

Tony shook his head. “He’s probably moping inside the lounge and plotting ways to kill us all, or whatever he does in his spare time.”

Thor nodded, picking up some grapes from a nearby table, and when he came back, he spotted you. He stretched out a hand, and you shook it. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Thor Odinson.”

You introduced yourself to him, and you talked for a short while until you sensed the air tense around you. The faces of your new acquaintances had gotten stiff, except for a few people who seemed not to care. Still, even they shifted their gaze behind you. 

What if all I need is you?

You spun around, confused, and saw a gorgeous black-haired man make his way outside. You vaguely recognized him, but you couldn’t pinpoint where from. He was wearing swim trunks and a tight shirt that left little to the imagination. 

Natasha mistook your staring silence for fear, and started to assure you. “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt you here. He’s got limited magic, and has supposedly ‘changed.’ If anything were to go wrong, we are all here to protect you as well.” 

You nodded, not registering her words as the man met your gaze. He had the most hypnotizing green eyes, and after you realized that you were blatantly staring, you turned away. “Uh-yeah, yeah.” 

Got love-struck, went straight to my head

You chastised yourself for being so starstruck from the simple sight of a man. Sure, he was beautiful, but you hadn’t even had a conversation with him.

It took you a few seconds to sort out your mind and absorb the words that Natasha had said to you. It clicked in your brain who the man was. It was Loki, Thor’s brother, the man who attacked New York.

Of course, this all came to you as you had taken a gulp of champagne to recalibrate. So, you did the most flattering thing you could think of, and choked on your drink.

You managed to pass it off as your drink going down the wrong way, excusing yourself to go get some water. This might have been the most eventful party you had attended thus far.

~~~~~

Got lovesick all over my bed

The next day, you sat in your bed, questioning your entire life. After you had gotten back to the party, Loki had been gone. You didn’t know where he had gone, and you didn’t know why you were disappointed.

Despite the fact that you hadn’t talked to him, or seen him for more than a few minutes, you couldn’t get his green eyes out of your head. Whenever you closed your eyes, you saw them, and whenever you saw them, you felt giddy. 

Love to think you’ll never forget

You wondered what he had thought of you, that moment when you had locked eyes. Did he think you were pretty? Or did you disgust him? You rolled your eyes, pressing your head into your pillow. You could lie to yourself, but you knew that he most likely forgot all about you. 

You didn’t understand your feelings. You had never felt this way with anyone before, not even your ex. You groaned as your mind brought him up. A few months ago, you had broken up with  your ex-boyfriend after a two-year relationship.

Memories of you and your ex flashed through your mind, and now you missed the green eyes that you had recently tried to get out of your mind.

Handprints in wet cement

There was this one time you and your ex had come across a pavement that had just been filled with wet cement. You instantly had remembered a cute couple's photo you had seen, and made him put his hand next to yours in the wet cement.

If you could go back, you wouldn’t have done that. Now you had to face the fact that your handprint was out there somewhere next to his until the pavement got redone.

You got up and made your way through the house, grabbing your bag and headphones. Whenever something was plaguing your thoughts, you would venture outside and listen to music. 

This time, after taking the subway, you found yourself in the heart of New York City. Your dad was always too busy with work to know or care when you went out, so you enjoyed taking advantage of that.

Even though most people would see this as freedom, you never truly felt free. Sure, you could go wherever and buy whatever you wanted, but you felt restricted when it came to doing things. Anything you did would be questioned by everyone if it got public-and the media was everywhere. 

Adorned with smoke on my clothes

You coughed as a particularly potent wave of cigarette smoke hit you. There were several times when you would go home with your clothes smelling of smoke just from being out in the city.

When the sun began to set, you made your way back to the subway. You boarded and found a seat next to a man with a vibrant green shirt. The exact shade of green of Loki’s eyes. 

This, along with the music and strolling you had done through the city, took your mind off of your ex and back to the mysterious man who you had seemingly become obsessed with.

Why he was plaguing your thoughts, you didn’t quite know. Especially when you hadn’t even talked to him.

Lovelorn and nobody knows

You wanted to talk to someone about it, but you didn’t have anyone you could trust with this sort of information. You had friends, sure, but you didn’t want to have to explain this feeling to them. You didn’t think that they would understand. And that was before mentioning that the man in question had tried to take over the world.

Love thorns all over this rose

On one hand, it was nice to feel like a giddy teenager again. Love-not that you would call this that-had a way of making you feel all fuzzy and warm inside. But on the other hand, you were completely perplexed and confused as you tried to understand your feelings. 

It was all stupid, really. You hated that you kept thinking about this man despite not having a conversation. It was unsettling how you couldn’t control your own thoughts and feelings.

You wrote it off as you missing the feeling of being in a relationship. That, and Loki was hot. So it was fair enough that you felt attracted to him, no matter how weird and silly it might be.

I'll pay the price, you won't

~~~~~

Another month, another party. However, you couldn’t help but find yourself more excited than you would have been before the pool party on Sunrise Boulevard. For starters, you had more acquaintances at the party. Friends, even. Natasha had kept in touch with you via text, and you even went out for coffee a week or so ago.

There was another reason too, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You ignored it. The weird flutter in your stomach that happened when you thought about running into Loki at the party was nothing short of a childish reaction to seeing a pretty boy.

But if I’m all dressed up

You were wearing a long-sleeved black dress that stopped a little above your knees. It was beautiful, filled with rhinestones. You paired it with some jewelry and a matching clutch.

They might as well be lookin' at us

It was a little more flashy than you would usually wear to one of these parties, but you couldn’t help it. Someone caught your eye, and now you wanted to catch theirs. 

And if they call me a slut

You were slightly worried, since the dress’ front was a little lower than the cut you typically wore. Now, a normal person in a normal life might get away with nobody noticing. Unfortunately, that would most likely not be the case. 

Would the press notice? Probably. Would they spin articles speculating why you were being ‘sluttish’? Likely.

You know it might be worth it for once

But maybe they wouldn’t. And even if they did, who cared? They did it all the time. If wearing this dress would heighten the possibility of catching a certain someone’s eye, you would take your chances.

“Ready, sweetheart?” Your dad called from downstairs. You made your way down the stairs, grabbing a light coat just in case you got cold. He smiled when he saw you. “You look pretty.”

You returned his smile. “Thanks, Dad.” You made your way out the doors and into the car that would lead you to the heart of New York City, and towards the Avengers Tower. 

When you arrived, you had to make your way up an elevator and through a lot of security before getting to the place where the party was being held. As soon as you got in, your dad was off to go talk to some of his business friends, leaving you on your own.

You sighed and walked over to the bar, ordering a drink. The great thing about Stark’s parties was that he provided an entire bar so people could order their own drinks.

The barista handed you your drink, and you thanked them. The taste was exactly what you wanted.

A hand on your shoulder startled you, so you whipped around to see who was touching you. To your surprise, and relief, it was Natasha. “Natasha! You startled me.” 

“We need to work on your spacial awareness then, hun.” She ordered a drink and took a seat next to me. “How’s life been since I last saw you?”

You took another sip of your drink, considering her question. “It’s been fine, rather uneventful. Which is a good thing, it means that there isn’t anything incredibly bad happening.” You paused, pondering whether or not to tell her more. You decided to very briefly graze a more emotional response. “However, I've been struggling with some feelings that I don’t quite understand.”

She looked at you, intrigued. She was about to say something, probably to prod for more information, when Thor and Steve walked up. They seemed to remember you, saying their greetings. 

“We’re going to play a round of poker, you want in?” Steve asked Natasha, who nodded, taking a final swig of her drink before finishing it. Steve then looked towards you. “How about you?”

Captain America had just asked you if you wanted to play poker with him and the Avengers. Normal day, normal day indeed. 

You took a sip of liquid courage. “Sure. I’m going to get another drink, I’ll meet you guys over there.”

They nodded and walked off towards a table where people were gathering to play. Your eyes scanned over who was there. Other than Thor, Natasha, and Steve, you recognized several faces that you had met that day at the pool party, including him .

And if I'm gonna be drunk

You turned back towards the bar, ordering another drink, this time something stronger. If you were going to make it through this game, you were going to need a lot more alcohol.

I might as well be drunk in love

But hey, maybe being slightly drunk would help you make a move.

You found yourself a seat in between Natasha and Wanda, right across from Thor. And Loki. Bruce shuffled and dished out the cards, as he preferred to be the person outside of all the action.

You began to introduce yourself to those who you hadn’t met, including Loki. He scrunched his eyebrows when you introduced yourself, but he promptly shook it off and responded. “Loki,” he said, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

Well, it was a start. You flashed him a smile and took up your cards that Bruce had passed you. You were no expert at Poker, but you knew how to play and were decent. 

The game went on, and you could quickly tell who had good poker faces and who didn’t. Natasha, for example, gave no indication as to what her cards were. As would be expected for a spy. On the other hand, Sam was easier to read because he smiled too damn much whenever he got a good card. 

But Loki? You couldn’t quite tell. He wasn’t entirely blank as Natasha, but gave subtle indications to his cards. Something told you that he did this on purpose, though, and wasn’t actually giving hints towards the truth. 

Apparently he noticed you staring at him, and he caught your eye. You blushed, immediately looking back down at your cards. Way to go, me, you thought, wanting the floor to come and swallow you up.

After that, the rounds passed by rather quickly, since you were so focused on what Loki might have thought when he caught you staring. Eventually everyone called it quits on the game, Natasha won, and instead circled over to a sitting area. People were beginning to clear out from the party, since it was getting late. Your dad was chatting away with some of his friends, so you took up an empty spot next to Loki. 

You had drunk several more drinks, so your common sense wasn’t really working for you. Loki gave you a weird look when you sat down, but you ignored it.

Thor called your name, so you turned your head towards his. “I believe I heard you mention that you like to read, no?” 

Your eyes widened in delight, nodding. “Yes! I do. In fact, just earlier today I purchased a few more novels from a bookstore.” 

Thor smiled. “Loki enjoys reading as well. He always seems to have his nose in a book.” Loki glared daggers at him, and was about to say something, when you interrupted. 

“Oh, really!?” You turned towards Loki, the topic of conversation overriding your nerves. “What is your favorite book?” 

Loki faltered, closing his mouth. He pondered the question for a moment before answering. “That’s a difficult question,” he said, “but I suppose if I had to choose I would go with Hamlet. What about you?”

Your smile widened. “Hamlet, an interesting choice indeed. I can totally see you as a Shakespeare guy, though.” Dear god, did I just say that? “And I can’t actually choose a favorite book, there’s just too many, where to start? Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, my childhood favorites, or more classical books like A Study in Scarlet or Pride and Prejudice? ”

You began to ramble on and on about some of your best reads, and you didn’t realize until it was too late that he probably didn’t want to hear about literally everything you’ve read. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No, please, go on, I don’t mind at all. I understand being passionate about reading.” Loki said, causing you to blush. 

The two of you continued your conversation, while Thor smiled into his drink across from the two of you.

That night was a success. You made it out of the party with not only having had a conversation with Loki, but also with his number. You had never been so proud of yourself for being a nerd.

~~~~~

Fast forward a few months, and you and him had practically become best friends. You hung out all the time, and texted each other whenever you couldn’t be together. You had never been this happy in your life. 

Unfortunately, that was all you were, friends. There was flirting, sure, from both ends, but neither of you took the step to initiate something. You were sure there was something there, but you were afraid it was one-sided. So you made peace with just being his friend, as it was enough for the time being. 

On one particularly bad day, there had been a nasty article written about you. The press had caught on to your friendship with the god of mischief, and they were ecstatic that they could spin some atrocious stories on it. You were called a slut, a whore, all for being seen with someone of the opposite sex. They used photos of the two of you holding hands, even though it had only been a friendly gesture. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t been for who you were with. The press wasn’t exactly fond of Loki, given his reputation.

Send the code, he's waitin' there

You shot Loki a text reading ‘Fairytale.’ It was the code word for whenever one of you was feeling stressed or overwhelmed, and you needed the other to come and help you escape from whatever situation you were in.

Making your way towards the Avengers tower, you couldn’t help but let a few tears escape. You tried never to let the media get to you, but the article hurt. It wasn’t just the fact that they were spinning nasty rumors and words about you, it was the fact that you wanted some of them to be true. Not the ones calling you names, but you wish that there was, in fact, something going on between you and Loki.

When you got to the tower, you made your way to the elevator. Security didn’t stop you, since they already knew who you were. You had been to visit frequently enough to where they knew you by name and greeted you. They probably could even tell that something was off, since you only briefly greeted them. On most days, you would stop and ask some of them how their day had been going. But, you didn’t have time for that today.

Once you reached the floor of the Avenger’s common areas, also where Loki’s room was, Loki was standing there, waiting for you.

The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

As soon as you saw him, everything somehow became a little bit better. You rushed into his arms, and he hugged you.

Everyone wants him, that was my crime

Some of the stories had only talked shit about you, and not Loki. Forums online called you names, while praising Loki. You weren’t ignorant to the fact that despite everything he had done, Loki still had loads of fans that would defend him and get jealous of anyone who actually got close to him. That was how fangirls and fanboys worked. Also, people were just misogynists and loved to put the blame on women. 

The wrong place at the right time

Maybe you weren’t supposed to be here. Maybe some of the articles were right, you were in the wrong place by being here in Loki’s arms. But damn the articles, because you felt safe here.

And I break down, then he's pullin' me in

He brought you through the halls and into his room, where you both sat down on his bed. “What happened?” He asked.

Had he really not seen the articles? You opened your mouth to talk, but your emotions got the best of you and you started to break down.

Loki pulled you into his lap, resting your head under his chin. “Hey, hey, shhh.” He coaxed, petting your hair with his hand. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

See? How was there not something there? Were you going crazy?

In a world of boys, he's a gentleman

He continued to coax you, and eventually you fell asleep in his arms.

~~~~~

The next morning, you woke up with arms around your waist. This wasn’t new, you had slept-in the literal sense-with Loki on several occasions whenever one of you needed emotional support. It did hurt that it was always as friends, but it was better than nothing, and you would take what you could get.

Loki rustled beside you, and you turned to face him. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, and you instinctively reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes opened at your touch, and your face went red. 

“Sorry, I-” He hushed you, smiling at how your face was heating up because he caught you.

“Don’t apologize, there’s nothing to apologize for.” He took your hand, and finished tucking his hair behind his ear with your hand .

You cleared your throat, slipping out of bed. You noted that he had magicked you into some pajamas sometime after you had fallen asleep.

He slowly sat up, his hair falling loose once more. “I’m going to get into the shower.” He said, and you nodded. 

“I’ll go out and see if anyone’s making breakfast I can steal.” You said, and he chuckled.

The Avengers were used to your presence at this point, and you were friends with them. You were even invited to their movie nights and poker nights, events that were exclusive to just the team and occasionally their friends, such as you. 

They were relatively surprised that you and Loki had become such good friends, but nobody really said anything about it. You got a few warnings to be careful, but for the most part, they trusted your judgment.

Thor was especially happy that Loki had made such a good friend. He would always tell you how much he appreciated you being there for Loki. He must not have quite understood just how much Loki was there for you as well.

Scents of eggs and bacon wafted into your nose, and you grinned when you found Clint in the kitchen. He saw you, smiling. “Hey there, Brownies.” He said, offering you some breakfast. 

Clint, along with some of the other members of the team, had begun to call you ‘Brownies’ after you got into a stash of edibles that some of them kept for whenever they were particularly stressed. Of course, you had thought that they were normal brownies and ate several of them. You had ended up throwing up multiple times that night.

You scarfed down the food, and Natasha walked in and sat next to you. When Clint left to go for a morning walk, she turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “So?”

You looked at her, confused. You had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “So what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Did you and Loki finally confess to each other?” She said, without batting an eye.

You choked on your orange juice. “What?!” You hadn’t told a single soul about your crush on Loki, but it wasn’t too hard to figure out. Honestly, it didn’t surprise you that she knew about it, but it did surprise you that she would ask you so passively like it was idle talk.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She took a bite of her food before continuing. “Literally everyone knows that you and Loki are pining for each other. It’s blatantly obvious, Sestryonka. Maybe you two won’t admit it to yourselves, but ask anyone else in the tower.”

At that moment, Sam walked in to grab a few pieces of bacon. “Hey Sam?” You started, and he looked towards you. “Do you think that Loki likes me?”

Sam raised his eyebrow. “Aren’t you two dating?” Once again, you choked on your orange juice. “I’ll take that as a no. But yeah, he likes you.”

“Did he tell you this?” You inquired. How were other people so sure?

Sam shook his head. “No, but it’s obvious.” He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. “Gotta go meet with an old friend, see you around.”

Natasha gave you an I-told-you-so look, and you just sat there, stunned. “I think I need to go home. I forgot that I told my dad I would go with him to some business meeting.” You lied, and Natasha most definitely saw through it, but she didn’t say anything. “Tell Loki whenever he gets out of the shower.” 

She nodded, and you left to go back to your house.

Got love-struck, went straight to my head (Straight to my head)

Could Natasha and Sam be right? Could Loki really recuperate your feelings? It wasn’t entirely impossible, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. 

All the times that you thought he had been playfully flirting with you, what if it had been real? The moments flashed through your mind, and suddenly the line that separated you and Loki as friends became a little more blurry.

Got lovesick all over my bed (Over my bed)

When you made it home and to your room, you fell into your bed, emotions overflowing. You didn’t know what to do.

Love to think you’ll never forget

You had to just be a friend to Loki. He would live thousands of years after you died, your life could never compare to his. He would move on with his life, and forget about you. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

We’ll pay the price, I guess

~~~~~

It had been a solid month of you ignoring Loki. Your thoughts had spurred you into insecurity, and you figured that it was best that you disconnected yourself from Loki. He would be fine, he would move on, but you wanted to spare yourself the hurt for when that did happen.

Turns out, ignoring him wasn’t easy. First of all, he called you daily and messaged you several times a day for the first week. You couldn’t keep yourself from reading the messages.

Lokes ♥️: Natasha told me you had to go to some event. Have fun 🙃 Lokes ♥️: Are you okay? You didn’t respond to my last message.  Lokes ♥️: If you need anything, please let me know. Lokes ♥️: You’re worrying me. Lokes ♥️: Darling, have I done something wrong? I know you're online, you sent Thor a funny dog video, he just showed it to me and said you sent it. Please tell me if I’ve done something that displeases you.

You were surprised you were able to make it a month without breaking your resolve and writing him back. You didn’t want him to feel that he did anything wrong, but you couldn’t risk your heart being shattered any further.

Unfortunately, your dad was making you go to another party. And, lucky you, it was at the Avengers tower. Just how many parties did Tony Stark have to host?

You walked into the party, confident that you had enough willpower to keep away from Loki and make it through the party unscathed. 

Knowing you would need some alcohol, you made your way to the bar. Natasha was there shortly after. “We haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hadn’t visited the tower since your decision to ghost Loki. While you normally would hang out with the others, you knew you couldn’t risk the chance of bumping into Loki.

“Yeah, I’ve been… busy.” You knew Natasha wasn’t stupid enough to buy your lie. 

She took a sip of her drink. “Well, we’ve missed you. And for the record, I think you’ve been going about this the wrong way. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Loki right now, but it doesn’t seem that Loki wants this. He’s not been the same since you stopped talking to him, he’s always moping around even more than usual.” 

Your heart squeezed. “Still? It’s been a month. Surely he’s got some other friend, girlfriend even-”

Natasha cut you off with a laugh. “You are blissfully ignorant, aren’t you, Mishka?” You were about to excuse yourself to use the bathroom, because you needed to get out of here. “He has literally come to me every day asking if you have texted me. Hell, I didn’t ever think that I would feel bad for the little bastard, but seeing him like that nearly did.”

You locked eyes with Loki, who was across the room. As soon as you did that, you could feel your walls of built resolve crumbling down just with the look in his eyes. 

You could hear Natasha still talking next to you, but it was drowned out. You quickly made your way opposite from him, trying to find an exit before you broke down.

A hand pulled you around to face him . The one you had been avoiding. Your breath caught. He looked tired and sad, with eye bags under his eyes. Had you being away from him done this?

But if I'm all dressed up (If I’m all dressed up)

The dress you were wearing was the same black dress from the night you had finally introduced yourself to him. In fact, you weren’t far off from where you had talked about your favorite books. 

Loki breathed your name, and looked at you like you were a fleeting memory about to disappear.

They might as well be lookin' at us (Lookin' at us)

Suddenly, you couldn’t care if the entire world was watching as you glanced down to his lips. You took a step towards him. “Loki.”

“Where have you been?” He sounded heartbroken. “I’ve called you, texted you, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve laid up at night-”

You silenced him by pulling down the collar of his shirt and kissing him. Was it the most logical thing to do? No. But maybe it would answer some of his questions. 

“I’m sorry.” You said when you finally pulled away. You waited for him to say something, anything, but he pulled you in for another kiss. Maybe that was better than words.

And if they call me a slut (If they call me a slut)

Consequences be damned, you were going to enjoy this kiss while it lasted. You could deal with the press later.

You know it might be worth it for once (Worth it for once)

You knew that it would be worth it anyways, since Loki’s lips against yours felt like pure nirvana. It was the best feeling you had ever experienced in your life.

Eventually, you both needed to breathe, so you pulled apart. After catching your breath, you gestured to the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”

And if I'm gonna be drunk

You had a lot to explain, and you were going to need a shot or two to get it all out. You already felt less nervous than you did originally, considering the kiss. 

I might as well be drunk in love

After taking a shot, you turned to him. “Loki Laufeyson, from the day that I met you, I’ve felt this inexplicable feeling. I didn’t know what it was at first, but I knew that I needed to get to know you better.” You took a deep breath. “And once I realized what it was, I got scared. When the possibility of something happening got too real, I got insecure. That’s why I didn’t contact you. I thought it would be better for both of us.”

He stared at you for a long moment, and you felt a tear drip down your cheek. He reached out to catch it with his finger. “Oh, love.”

He kissed you, this time in comfort. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

Slow clapping filled your ears as you leaned your forehead against Loki’s. You whipped around to find Natasha with a smirk on her face. It wasn’t just Natasha, it seemed that the majority of the Avengers were now staring at you. Nobody looked shocked.

Thor wore a huge shit-eating grin and walked up to Loki, clapping him on the back. “See, Brother, I told you it would all work out!” 

Loki huffed and rolled his eyes. “No thanks to you and your advice.” 

You tilted your head, confused. “Advice?” You turned to Thor. “Thor, what is he talking about?” 

Thor’s smile didn’t falter. “Well, my lady, my brother here inquired for advice on how to woo maidens. Since I am well-rounded on the subject, I gave him my best advice.” 

Loki’s usually pale face had now turned red, and you could feel your cheeks getting hot as well. “Did he really?” You said, teasing Loki. 

“I was desperate. Next time, however, I will most definitely be more straightforward.” He kissed you on the forehead. “We wouldn’t want you running off again, now, would we?”

~~~~~

Half asleep, takin’ your time

Loki pulled you closer to him in a half-asleep state. You squinted at the alarm clock, reading the time. It was 10 in the morning. Last night, you had told your dad that you were going to spend the night with Natasha.

“Loki.” You whispered, shaking him gently awake. He groaned, tightening his hold on you. “Loki, we should get up.” 

In the tangerine, neon light, this is luxury

The sun cast a tangerine-colored neon light into the room, and it highlighted his features beautifully. You couldn’t think of anywhere else in the world you wanted to be other than right here in his arms. It was a pure luxury that you would cherish forever.

“Can’t we just stay here?” He whined, and you were tempted to agree and fall back asleep against his chest. But you knew that you had things that needed to get done that day.

You traced lines across his chest, slowly. “Nope, we gotta get up. Come on.” You pulled the blankets off of him, and he grumbled but sat up. 

He looked like he was about to complain some more, but he stopped himself when he saw you. “You’re beautiful.” He breathed, like he was seeing something magical. 

“Yeah, okay, silvertongue.” You got out of bed, and scavenged through his closet to find some of his clothes to steal. 

He came up behind you, kissing your neck. “I mean it, darling.” You blushed. How were you ever going to get used to this? 

You're not sayin' you're in love with me

He hummed on your shoulder, hugging you. Neither of you had blatantly stated your undying love for each other, but it was heavily implied. Every action either of you took was filled with passionate love for the other. 

But you're going to

And it was okay if you didn’t acknowledge your love quite yet. Taking things slow never hurt anyone. It was okay. It would happen. Eventually. Right?

You wanted to say it, to say those words: ‘I love you,’ but you were too afraid that you would be taking things too fast and scare Loki off.

Half awake, takin' your chances

“Darling?” He said, and you tilted your head up as you grabbed one of his sweatshirts. “I love you.” 

Had he been reading your mind? You froze, unsure of what to say or do. He seemed to have only been half-awake, but when he said those words, he fully woke up.

“I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t think-” You shut him up with a kiss. 

You smiled into the kiss. “I love you too, you big idiot.” He relaxed at this and helped you put his sweatshirt on. 

It's a big mistake, I said, "It might blow up in your pretty face"

“Although, loving me might blow up in your pretty face.” You said, rustling your hands in his raven locks.

He leaned into you. “If I’m with you, nothing else matters.” He grabbed some clothes for himself. “And I’m flattered you think my face is pretty.” 

I'm not saying, "Do it anyway" (Do it anyway)

You knew then and there that he wouldn’t care about the fallback from a relationship with you, no matter how bad it might be. Loki’s never been one for caring about his public opinion, anyway. 

“Are you sure?” You tried, still slightly insecure about the entire thing. “Won’t you get bored?”

But you're going to

He laughed. “Darling, with you, I could never get bored. You’ve shown me so many things about this world that I never would have thought possible. You’ve helped me through my emotions, and didn’t run away when it was ugly. You didn't go away when I attempted to shut you out.” 

He pulled you into his embrace. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed all balled up into one soul that I finally have found. I wouldn’t be able to get bored of you even if I tried.”

You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks. Never had fate been this good to you, and you finally felt like you belonged somewhere without a doubt. You belonged here, in Loki’s arms.

And if they call me a (Slut) You know it might be worth it for once And if I'm gonna be (Drunk) I might as well be drunk in love

Tag List (Comment or inbox me to be added/removed; along with what to be tagged for): @michief-dream @iceeericeee @fandxmslxt69

Hope you enjoyed! Comments and notes are always appreciated. I hope I didn't add to many scene changes/focus too much on the reader, it just kind of turned out that way.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not picking up on my friends “hints” + cutting off a friend after they ghosted me?

So a while back I (22 F) visited my friend (22 F) in another state to celebrate our 21st birthdays (hers was two months beforehand but I had to cancel my visit due to a family emergency). For context, me and this friend have been best friends since we were 9-10 years old.

Before we got together we got on FaceTime and made a very loose plan of what we wanted to do during my visit. That outline included things like ‘shopping’, ‘going out for dinner’ on my birthday, ‘baking a pie’ (since Friend had previously mentioned she admired my baking skills and said she thought it would be fun to bake together) and ‘roller skating’ since it was something we always did as kids. When I arrived at her house I said something akin to “I’m so excited, I saved up a ton of money so we can do whatever we want” and she said “same, I saved up about a thousand dollars” but proceeded to say she wasn’t broke and didn’t have any money for the rest of our time together.

I already know this is going to be long, so tldr; we did all our planned activities except going to the roller rink for reasons I’ll explain later; she paid for two ride shares on my first day and offered to buy me lunch, which I accepted. I paid for the next five rides, and we split any other meals that we didn’t eat at her home, except for when she offered to buy me an iced latte my birthday. The night of my birthday we, to my knowledge, didn’t have any concrete plans for dinner. She suggested one restaurant but for whatever reason I wasn’t feeling it so I asked if there was anything else we’d both like. She suggested a Japanese restaurant and that’s where we ended up. The dinner extremely uncomfortable—she didn’t seem outwardly angry, but she only gave brief responses any time I tried to make conversation, and when I couldn’t get anything else out of her we ate in silence.

Her birthday present to me were custom roller skates she’d ordered in my favorite colors. It was a very nice present! But at the time it felt like a slap in the face because by that point I figured that I’d be paying for the rest of our rides, something I didn’t plan on, and I neither had the money nor thought it was fair for me to do that, so we never went roller skating. When it was time for me to leave I asked if she could mail the skates to me (and I’d pay her back whatever it cost to mail), because I already had several large bags to take with me on the plane and would be uncomfortable carry the large box of skates around the airport as well. She never sent them, and i later found out she returned them.

I was very angry and frustrated when I got home, and didn’t text her for about two weeks (this was not intentional, I got busy with work). When I finally did text her she ignored me and ghosted me for four months. When she did finally reply she said a lot of the things I did during the trip upset her. We called to talk it out and she essentially said she felt taken advantage of because she felt like she was made to pay for everything (rides, food, etc.) She said I bought something at the mall but she felt like I was pressuring her into buying it for me (never in all our years of friendship have I asked or expected her to purchase random things for me? I asked her what I did to make her feel this way and she couldn’t give me a straight answer?) and that she spent so much money she had to borrow from her parents for the rest of the month. But I don’t know what I could have done since we split everything besides what she offered to pay for me? She also said that she made reservations at the first restaurant she suggested and paid them to make a cake for me, and had to pay a cancellation fee because we didn’t go, but she never told me that because it was a surprise and just hoped I’d pick up on ‘hints’ instead. She also says she was upset that we baked the pie because ‘her family didn’t even like pie’ and it went to waste. She said she tried to give ‘hints’ that she didn’t want to make it, but she didn’t have any objections when I first suggested it? It wasn’t super important to me, just a fun thing to do, so if she didn’t want to I wouldn’t have minded at all?

She also was upset with me because on the day I left, I wanted to visit my father (he lived in the same city) before my flight. When I mentioned where I was meeting him, Friend’s father said he knew where I was going and could drive me since it was only 10 minutes down the road. Friend said she felt like I was using her family and that it was wrong of me to ‘ask her dad for a ride’ because he works so hard and was tired all the time. But I didn’t ask, he offered? And my mother has been a surrogate parent to Friend since we were children, helping her with everything (relationship advice, finances and medical debt, driving her across states to go apartment hunting) her actual parents neglected to. So I didn’t understand why having that kind of relationship with my mother is okay, but me getting driven 10 minutes down the road crosses a line? In the moment I was happy to have talked everything out with her, but the more I thought about her gripes, the more angry and frustrated I became. And I bottled this anger until I couldn’t take it anymore and sent her a brief text that basically said I was better off when we weren’t talking and I was learning to live my life without her (this was a horrible and mean thing to say to her, and I have since apologized). A few days later she sent me a message back saying I was a very special person to her, that she’d always love me. We didn’t talk properly for about a year and a half after that. She’d text me on my birthday and holidays but that’s it. We’re speaking again now, but she said she still felt like I used her for money or that I’m somehow in the wrong for not picking up on her ‘hints’ during my visit, and that me ghosting her was deeply hurtful and she cried for weeks about it. I have complicated feeling about that though because I didn’t WANT to hurt her, i only wanted to remove myself from a situation that was making me so perpetually angry I was getting headaches daily, and I wouldn’t have even considered ghosting her until after she ghosted me.

She mentioned visiting each other/going on a trip together sometime in the future, but the idea gives me so much anxiety because I don’t want to go through this all over again. Did I use her? Was I in the wrong for not picking up on her hints or ghosting her?

What are these acronyms?