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#tv line exclusive
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Trailers and Promo Pictures!!
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I saw the trailer posted @ncisverse on Instagram and promo pictures obviously TVLine Exclusive.
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anistarrose · 2 months
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I'd like to propose a dark horse candidate for the most interesting line in The Book of Bill. And it's this near-unreadable, seemingly one-off joke from the "Skin" page:
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[ID: tiny text reading: "Help! This is not Bill Cipher. My name is Grebley Hemberdreck of Zimtrex 5. I'm one of thousands of beings Bill has devoured over trillions of years whose souls are now trapped inside him. You have to free me! It's horrible in here. He just keeps playing the song "Good Vibrations" by Marky Mark on an endless loop. Please, please, this is not a joke! The Zimtrexians were once a proud and mighty people, but now our spirits long for release from this..." End ID.]
Okay, so Bill devours souls who then live out a horrible existence inside him. That's just some typical and expected Bill behavior, right? Nothing to be shocked by? Maybe not, but one thing jumps out at me... and of all things, it's the way that Bill keeps playing that Beach Boys parody (correction provided by @fexalted: no, not in fact a Smiley Smile parody, but a real song!) on loop.
Because in The Book of Bill, there's a recurring motif of characters playing music for a very specific reason: to repel an unwanted presence inside their head. This is what Elias Inkwell, and later Ford, did with the "It's A Small World" parody — they tried to keep Bill out of their brains. Or, metaphorically... to drown out his voice.
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[ID: a Journal 3 page with a cassette taped inside. It's titled: "The World Is Small Ever After for Always." Ford writes: "If it's war you want, it's war you'll get! If you want to torture me? I'll torture you back!" End ID.]
That doesn't necessarily mean that Bill finds the voices of devoured souls to be troubling, let alone downright haunting, does it? Well... not quite on its own. But there's a "color" code on the page about TV static that says a lot:
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[ID: a code consisting of colorful squares, translated to letters that spell out: "he never sleeps he never dreams but somehow still he hears their screams." End ID] (screenshot courtesy of @fexiled)
The context of the page implies these "screams" come to Bill especially when he listens to TV static, and the broader context of the book implies that these are the screams of his destroyed home dimension, Euclydia. Therefore, not necessarily those of the souls he devoured, from Zimtrex 5 and possibly other dimensions.
Except... do those two things really have to be mutually exclusive?
The beings that Bill devoured were accumulated over "trillions" of years, plural, according to Grebley. In Weirdmageddon 1, Bill claims to have resided in the Nightmare Realm for precisely "one trillion" years. So the "devouring" habit probably extends back even further than his time in the Nightmare Realm...
Enter @acetyzias, pointing out a very conspicuous word — and one of the only uncensored words — from Bill's description of destroying his home dimension:
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[ID: the word "mandibles". End ID.]
Oh, and how does Bill describe the "monster" that destroyed his home to Ford, when Ford asks about revenge?
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[ID: Journal excerpt reading: "Sixer, it would eat you alive." End ID.]
For a long time, Bill's destruction of his home has been associated with fire, even when the story's told by Bill himself. But through the way the book characterizes Bill's guilt — and characterizes how the consequences of what he's done remain lurking deep inside him — I think The Book of Bill lays out the hints for another motif: devouring.
And, well, when it comes to how Bill destroys things... it wouldn't be without precedent.
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[ID: screenshot of Bill in Weirdmageddon 3, taking a bite out of the Earth. End ID.]
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stxrvel · 4 months
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the one where everything changes (1)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fangirling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻
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You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.
Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.
Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.
He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.
In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.
Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.
Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.
Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.
They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.
You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.
It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-
“Weren't you supossed to leave?”
You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.
“Huh?”
You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.
“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”
You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.
“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.
“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”
You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.
“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”
“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”
You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.
“I had no idea about life at the time.”
Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.
“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”
You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.
“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”
You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.
You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.
You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.
Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.
Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.
You never recovered from that.
Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.
That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.
“Have you seen them yet??????”
The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.
“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”
“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”
“Wow, speak for yourself.”
“Haven't you seen theeeem?”
Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.
“God, hold still.”
Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.
Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.
“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”
Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.
“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.
Yuna let out an excited exclamation.
“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”
You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.
“We're still on business hours.”
“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.
“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”
Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.
“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”
Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.
The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.
Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...
“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.
“Their car windows were up.”
“So you saw them, right?????”
“Argh.”
You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.
“What's wrong with you?”
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.
“Wasn't that convention today?”
You sighed. “Yes.”
“Then why aren't you there?”
“Do I look like I want to be there?”
“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”
“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”
Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.
On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.
“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”
“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.
“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”
“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”
“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”
Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”
“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”
“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”
You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.
“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”
“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.
“No.”
“y/n, please…”
“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”
“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”
“I never agreed with that!”
“Seojun told me so!”
“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”
“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”
“That was your second mistake.”
“Y/n!”
_____________________
That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.
“y/n, dear, how did it go?”
Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.
“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”
You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.
“Oh, it's teokkboki.”
Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.
“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”
You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.
Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.
With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.
How do I unclog a bath?
Do I add salt to the rice???
Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????
His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.
Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.
Ah, what a long day.
You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.
It was one in the morning!
“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”
“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”
“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”
“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”
“Well, whatever!”
You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.
“You're going to fall on your ass.”
“I'm lying down.”
“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”
Silence. Absorbing silence…
“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”
“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”
“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”
“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”
“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”
“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”
You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.
You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.
There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.
You clicked on his picture on the screen.
Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.
It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.
A description loomed between the image.
One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.
Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.
“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”
With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.
“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”
Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…
“What the fuck?”
--
tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7
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justlemmeadoreyou · 4 months
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1. prepping (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)
summary: you landed your dream job as a line cook at harry styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.
words: 4.3k
warnings: nothing major in this one
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Your palms were sweating as you gripped the steering wheel, driving through downtown Chicago towards your new job. You kept glancing down at the address on the printed directions, double checking that you were heading the right way. The last thing you wanted was to be late on your first day.
Ever since getting your culinary degree, you had applied to what felt like hundreds of restaurant jobs, desperate to get your foot in the door of a real professional kitchen. But very few places wanted to hire someone so fresh out of school with no actual experience. 
Finally, after months of dead ends, you had landed a line cook position at Haus Kitchen - one of the hottest farm-to-table restaurants in the city. You could scarcely believe your luck when you got the call saying you were hired.
Haus was the brainchild of Harry Styles, international superstar singer turned chef. After his chart-topping solo music career, Harry had traded in artist life to pursue his lifelong passion for cooking. Using his accumulated wealth, he opened up Haus five years ago to rave reviews, quickly earning a well deserved Michelin star.
You vividly remembered watching Harry's transition from a pop idol to dashing culinary entrepreneur play out in the media. As a teenage girl, you had been obsessed with him during his One Direction days.
Your bedroom walls were plastered with Harry's posters and you had relentlessly played their songs, sighing over his tousled hair and pouty lips. Then as you got older and Harry went solo, your boyband crush evolved into more of an intense celebrity infatuation as he cultivated a cool, rebellious image.
There were countless gossipy blind items about his infamous hellraising, flings with models and socialites, and run-ins with the law. You had followed all the scandalous Harry headlines with rapt attention - from getting papped stumbling out of nightclubs with an endless parade of beautiful women to getting arrested for drug possession outside Soho clubs. 
But finally in his late 20s, seemingly bored of rockstar debauchery, Harry had pivoted to reset his image as a knowledgeable culinary entrepreneur. You admired how he transformed from tabloid bad boy into a refined, successful businessman and chef.
He began studying haute cuisine under the tutelage of famous European chefs, traveling abroad to hone his skills further. While continuing to record new musical projects independently, Harry started establishing himself in the culinary world through guest stints on TV cooking shows and food/wine events.
With his brooding good looks, charming personality, and serious culinary chops, the world fell for Harry's new sophisticated image. Before long, he was the subject of breathless puff pieces in food magazines as "the sexiest Renaissance man in the kitchen." It seemed natural when Harry soon opened up his passion project Haus to capitalize on his popularity and love of food.
Now nearing your mid-20s, your teenage fannish obsession had cooled into more of an admiring celebrity crush. You had stayed aware of Harry's journey, but your priorities were focused on graduating culinary school at the top of your class and finding your own big break in the Chicago restaurant scene.
So when you landed a job at Harry's iconic Haus, it almost didn't feel real. Not only would you be working at one of the city's most exclusive spots, but under the same roof as a chef you had admired for ages.
Not that you expected to have any real personal contact with Harry himself, you reminded yourself as you merged onto the exit for downtown. He was an internationally famous mega-celebrity who had to have hundreds of staffers, not to mention being handsomely paid to just be the smiling face of the business while professional kitchen vets like Paul Thomason handled the day-to-day operations.
Still, you had to admit to yourself that a tiny part of you tingled at the mere idea of being in the same building as Harry Styles...hopefully catching a glimpse of that handsome, endlessly charming man in the flesh...
You shook your head dismissively and double checked the directions again, annoyed at getting so easily distracted. This was your big break, your first serious job in the industry. You needed to bring your A-game and focus, not dwell on silly celebrity daydreams.
It was your fantasies of becoming a respected chef that needed to take priority.
You pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, double checking that you had the address right. The sleek, modern building had a neon "Haus Kitchen" sign glowing over opulent double-door entrances flanked by velvet ropes and cheerful outdoor seating areas.
Taking a steadying breath, you cut the engine and sat for a moment, giving yourself a pep talk. This was it. No more messing around doing coursework or labs - this was the major leagues with all the intensity of a real professional kitchen. You had to bring it all day, every day.
As you climbed out of your beat-up Honda, you smoothed down your spotless new chef's whites, making sure everything looked pressed and presentable. With your knife kit tucked under your arm, you walked towards the entrance with purpose, chin held high.
From the moment you stepped through the doors, it was like being transported into another world. The smell of simmering sauces, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread envaded your senses. Even hours before opening, the energy and hustle for dinner prep was palpable.
Off to the left was the main dining room you had studied photos of online - effortlessly cool with vaulted exposed wooden beam ceilings, brick accents, and casually modern decor. Pendant lighting glowed cozily over tables draped in white linens and rustic chandeliers hung over plush tufted leather banquettes. A lively bar area centered the space, stocked with top-shelf liquors and backed by a dazzling display of custom glassware.
In the distance ahead, you could hear the clamoring of the kitchen in full swing. Your stomach did a nervous flip - this was it. Taking another fortifying breath, you headed through the archway.
You emerged into a large, sleek open kitchen layout, all stainless steel and butcher block islands. Uniformed cooks were buzzing at their stations like a well-oiled machine under the barked commands of an older, stocky man you immediately recognized as Head Chef Paul Thomason.
Despite his gruff reputation, watching Thomason in action was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved between stations with the easy grace of a conductor, sampling sauces, tweaking seasonings, and directing the workflow with gruff orders. There was no wasted movement or micro-expression as he continually tasted and perfected dishes, alternating between thoughtful contemplation and decisive action.
Though you had only seen Thomason in pictures and television appearances, his fierce focus and mastery were unmistakable. This was what true professional kitchen expertise looked like in the flesh.
Feeling like a mouse that had wandered into the lair of a lion, you hovered near the entrance, uncertain of what to do next. The kitchen team flowed around you in a choreographed dance, deftly ignoring your presence as they prepped and plated flawlessly.
After a few minutes of anxious loitering, the intimidating Thomason seemed to finally notice you. His grizzled features contorted as he scowled, looking you up and down through eyes squinted with decades of kitchen smoke exposure.
"You must be the new kid," he said gruffly, crossing his bulky tattooed arms over his broad chest. Even without raising his voice, Thomason had a rumbling bass that easily carried over the kitchen's clanging din. "Christ, you're shorter than I expected. Think you've got what it takes to keep up around here?"
You nervously clutched your knife kit closer while trying to not look as flustered as you felt. "Y-yes, chef!" 
You swallowed hard, hyper aware of everyone around you now watching the interaction. "I, uh...I came ready to work as hard as it takes. Whatever you need from me."
Thomason grunted, squinting at you for another long moment in consideration. Then he jerked his head towards the back. "Get changed out quick and meet me back here in 5. I'll get you started on prep and we'll see what you're made of. Don't keep me waiting."
"Yes, chef!" you responded immediately, wincing at how high your voice had gone up an octave.
Without another word, Thomason turned and strode back into the controlled chaos of the line, immediately redirecting his attention to sauces and garnishes. Letting out a shaky breath, you scurried towards the changing rooms, heart jackhammering.
Well, you were officially in the thick of things now...
You hustled back out to the kitchen, trying not to look frazzled from your rushed change. A young Hispanic line cook spotted you and waved you over to his station.
"You the newbie?" he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he jerked his head towards the walk-in refrigerator. "Thomason wants you to start by breaking down some of the produce delivery for prep."
"Got it, thanks," you replied, eager to prove yourself. The line cook gestured you through the door into the immense chilled walk-in.
You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the cold, taking in the sights and smells of the impressive stockpile. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with an array of fresh seasonal produce - crates bursting with leafy greens, bushels of root vegetables, flats of vibrantly colored tomatoes, exotic fruits, and mushroom varieties you had only read about.  
Your culinary school had humble basics for ingredients, nothing like the bounty of locally-sourced, meticulously selected provisions that Haus Kitchen demanded. You felt a thrill at getting to work with such an extraordinary pantry.
Respirating clouds puffed from your mouth as you scanned the inventory tagging system. You had been taught similar protocols in your food safety courses, but there was something exhilarating about putting that knowledge into practice in a real professional environment.
Grabbing a stack of plastic totes, you made a game plan for which items to start prepping first based on perishability levels and what would be needed for that evening's specials. Though you started out slow at first, you steadily built up a cadence of meticulously cleaning, trimming, and sorting into appropriate storage containers.  
By the time Thomason stuck his head in to check on you an hour later, you had developed an efficient system and made solid progress through a mountain of deliveries.
The head chef grunted in approval as he inspected your neat stacks of prepped produce, crossing his arms as he looked you up and down with a critical eye.
"Not bad, kid," he rumbled. "Clearly know which end of a knife to use, at least. C'mon back out, got some protein fabrication for you to tackle next."
You diligently followed Thomason back out to the main kitchen, wiping some sweat from your brow with your sleeve. Despite the industrial cooling system, the heat blazing from the ovens and range tops made the open kitchen feel like a furnace.
As Thomason led you to a stainless steel butcher's block island, you couldn't help but gawk at the array of gleaming knives hanging from magnetic strips overhead. The blades were works of art - sleek, razor sharp, and clearly extremely expensive.
Gesturing you over, Thomason grabbed a boning knife and twirled it deftly before handing it to you. "Let's see how you handle breaking this down."
He gave the block a solid smack with his meaty palm, indicating for you to get started on the glistening slab of beef tenderloin before you. Taking a steadying breath, you gripped the bone-handled knife firmly and leaned over the cutting board.
"Yes chef," you murmured before carefully piercing the thick cut of meat, angling the blade with practiced precision from all your training.
Around you, the kitchen bustled with the usual rattling pans, sizzling ranges, and Thomason's occasional barked orders. But as you fell into the rhythm of deftly separating fat and sinew, the noises began to fade from your awareness.  
You were completely focused on your knife work, confidently sawing through the tender flesh as you reduced the tenderloin down to portions and trimmings for other stations to further break down. It was meditative, almost hypnotic, the way you instinctively slid the blade along rendered paths of butchery.
After your initial intimidation of the intense Haus environment, you started to find your groove and calm amidst the choreographed insanity surrounding you. You were so laser-focused on the satisfaction of properly executing each slicing technique that the rest of the kitchen chaos became mere white noise.
You had no idea how long you stayed absorbed in the butchery, but eventually you became aware of a presence at your elbow. Glancing up, you nearly jumped to see Harry Styles watching you work with an unreadable expression, hands shoved into the pockets of his slim-fitting slacks.
His dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the fitted cotton fabric clung to his toned arms and chest, a few chest hairs peeking out of his slightly undone top button. A single necklace rested in the divot between his sculpted collarbones, drawing your eye to the alluring hollow of his throat as he swallowed hard.
You froze mid-slice, mesmerized by watching the tendons in Harry's wrist and forearm flex as his hands flexed restlessly in his trouser pockets. After a beat, his pillowy lips curved into an easy smile, crinkling the delicate crow's feet at the corners of his kaleidoscope green eyes.
"Afternoon," Harry said in that lazy, husky drawl that used to make millions of fans swoon. He flicked his eyes down to your handiwork before bringing them back up to your face. "Looking good there, newbie."
You blinked, not trusting your ears for a moment before realizing with a jolt that Harry was very much real and quite close. Like, unnecessarily close for your over-stimulated brain to handle.
"Uh...I-I, um...th-thank you?" you croaked out, wanting to cringe at how lame you sounded. Get it together, this wasn't the time to geek out–you instructed yourself.
But Harry didn't seem to notice your fumbling, simply giving you a dimpled half-smile before reaching around you to snag a stray piece of trimming from the butcher's block. He inspected it contemplatively before popping it into his mouth, those plump lips wrapping obscenely around the bite as he chewed and ruminated with relish.
"Perfection," he declared after swallowing, shooting you another crooked grin like you were co-conspirators sharing an inside joke. With a subtle wink, Harry pivoted on his boot heel and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.
As he retreated, you risked a glance down at his form-fitting trousers shamelessly admiring the way the fine fabric cupped the ample curves of his pert backside. Even at his age, Harry Styles had the muscle-toned body of a man decades younger - long, lean muscles taut under golden tanned skin.
You blinked hard and shook your head, annoyed at catching yourself ogling your new boss like a drooling fangirl. Pull it together! This was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. You had zero business daydreaming about someone who gave you your paycheck, no matter how obscenely famous and heartthrob-ishly handsome they were.
Firmly re-focusing on your knife work, you determinedly put Harry from your mind and tried to re-immerse yourself in the rhythm and refuge of the butchery. But the memory of his distractingly lush mouth so close kept replaying over and over, preventing you from recapturing your previous sense of meditative flow. 
Dammit, you needed to get a grip! This kind of inappropriate crush on your employer was exactly the kind of silly, immature behavior that would make you look like a unprofessional joke in a serious kitchen environment. Blowing an opportunity like this was not an option.
Later, as you untied your apron strings and joined the team in breaking down the last stations for cleaning at closing, Thomason sidled up alongside you. You braced yourself for more of his typical gruff rebukes or criticisms.
Instead, the veteran chef simply gave you a long, considered look before saying gruffly, "You did good work today, kid. I can already tell you got the stuff to handle it around here if you keep your head down."
You blinked up at him in surprise before managing a small smile. "Thank you, chef. I really appreciate that."
Thomason grunted noncommittally before wandering off, likely to oversee something else. As you tidied your workstation, you couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride. Despite the craziness of your first day, you had seemingly passed this initial trial with flying colors.
As you left through the back entrance into the quiet night air, you took a deep breath and allowed yourself a satisfied smile. Maybe, just maybe, you really did have what it took to succeed in this highly competitive environment after all. For tonight at least, you had handled the punishing pace and standards. Tomorrow was another day to prove yourself all over again.
***
Your day started before sunrise the next morning, brewing a strong coffee and reviewing the notes you had taken the previous evening about which menu items needed prepping. By the time you arrived at Haus, reinvigorated by the crisp morning air, the kitchen was already a hive of activity in preparation for lunch service. 
The intense scrutiny under which you worked only amplified with the daylight. Every slice, every sauté was carried out under the watchful eyes of Chef Thomason and his steely gaze. More than once, you felt his presence looming over your shoulder, inspecting your work with the same critical eye as a diamond cutter examining a flawless gem.
"This slice is uneven," he barked, startling you. You flinched, resisting the urge to make excuses as he continued, "The portions all need to be identical for plating. Paying attention to details like that is the difference between a sloppy meal and a stellar one. Don't let it happen again."
"Yes, chef," you replied tightly, making a minor adjustment to your knife work. Though his words stung, you had to admit Thomason was completely right. In a restaurant of this caliber, any minor imperfection could spell disaster.  
You redoubled your efforts, pouring all of your concentration into each preparation, each plate. By the time the end of your shift rolled around, you were drenched in sweat, your feet screaming from being on them for 12 hours straight. But you had successfully made it through day two without any major mishaps.
As the whirlwind of dinner service finally calmed to a stopping point, you stood in the kitchen obediently waiting for Thomason's inspection and inevitable critique. But to your surprise, he merely gave a curt nod of approval before waving you off.
"Not bad, newbie," he grunted. "Get a good night's rest. We'll need you back bright and early tomorrow."
Those few gruff words of acceptance warmed you more than any high praise could have. For Thomason, a man of very few words, his small nod seemed to indicate you were, for the moment, living up to his exceedingly high standards.
The high from that small victory buoyed your spirits as you made your way towards the back exit, already dreaming of the few hours of sleep you might be able to grab before starting the cycle over again. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly bowled someone over coming around a corner.
"Whoa there!"  
You froze, looking up into the grinning, mirthful eyes of Harry Styles himself. Up close, the force of his charm and magnetism practically crackled in the air around him like a physical force. His sweater clung distractingly to his lithe, muscular frame and his chestnut hair was casually tousled. A pair of small diamond studs glinted in each ear.
"Sorry about that, H-Harry," you stammered, resisting the urge to take a flustered step back. You were vividly aware of just how little physical space separated the two of you. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
If he noticed your frazzled state up close, Harry didn't let on. His pink lips merely curved in an easy, dimpled smile. "No need to apologize. I don't usually make a habit of lurking around blind corners, to be fair."
You laughed before you could stop yourself, surprised at how easily he was putting you at ease despite your elevated heart rate. Up close, Harry's eyes weren't just green - an entire kaleidoscope of colors ranging from jade to emerald to amber seemed to shift and dance in his gaze. It was...dazzling, frankly.
Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a subtle step backwards, putting a more professional amount of space between the two of you. The last thing you needed was to do something wildly inappropriate that would get you fired before the end of your first week.
"Still, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings," you replied, aiming for a respectful, levelheaded tone. "It's been a really intense couple of days just trying to stay on top of everything."
Harry nodded in understanding, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "Thomason hasn't let up on you at all, I take it?" 
When you shook your head ruefully, he chuckled. "I know that seems like his permanent state - gruff, perpetually unsatisfied, and grumpy as a hibernating bear. But honestly, the fact that he hasn't fired you already is a good sign you're doing well."
You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait...really? But he critiques everything! I feel like I've gotten nothing but corrections so far."
"Exactly." Harry's dimples flashed as he grinned. "That's how you know he sees potential in you. If Thomason didn't think you had what it took, he wouldn't waste his breath giving feedback. He'd just cut you loose and hire someone else to start over."
His words were like a soothing balm on the anxiety and self-doubt you'd been carrying around for the past couple of days. You hadn't realized that Thomason's critical approach was actually a twisted form of acceptance and mentorship. The revelation caused the hard knot of tension between your shoulder blades to finally release.
"Huh," you exhaled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you finally understood Thomason's tough love. "I guess I should take that as a compliment then."
"Absolutely," Harry agreed with an approving nod. Then his expression softened around the edges, growing earnest as his gaze searched yours. "Look, I know it's a huge adjustment and the pace here can be absolutely brutal starting out. But for what it's worth...I think you've got what it takes to be something really special in this kitchen."
You felt yourself flush at his unexpected praise, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of nervous butterflies. Harry held your eyes for a lingering moment before seeming to mentally collect himself.
Clearing his throat, he flashed you one more crooked grin. "But don't take my word for it - the proof will be in your work. Stay focused and trust the process. I've got faith you can handle it."
With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours in a way that made your entire body buzz with friction. As Harry sauntered off down the hallway, you couldn't stop yourself from turning to watch his retreating form - the easy, rolling gait, the tantalizing sway of his hips below the slim cut of his trousers, the tousled waves of his chestnut hair.
You let out a shaky exhale, feeling off-balance and electrified all at once. Get a grip, you scolded yourself firmly. That was your boss - your incredibly famous, wealthy, and wildly attractive boss. Daydreaming was a one-way ticket to catching inappropriate feelings and potentially torpedoing your entire career before it even started.
And yet...you couldn't quite silence the part of your brain reliving Harry's velvet tone and intense eye contact as he professed having faith in your abilities. Just the casual warmth of his voice and proximity had set your heart pounding in a way it hadn't since you were a hormonal teenager, utterly dazzled by his rock star persona.
Shaking your head, you forced yourself to turn on your heel and head for the exit. Overthinking could only lead to dangerous territory. You needed to stay laser-focused on your work - that was the only way to succeed at Haus and make your culinary dreams a reality.
As you stepped out into the fresh evening air, you paused for a moment on the deserted back stoop, closing your eyes and taking a few centering breaths. When you opened them again, you felt the last fluttering tendrils of Harry's heated presence dissipate, replaced by a familiar sense of determined calm.
This job was your priority now, not silly schoolgirl crushes or indulging fantasies about your wildly unattainable boss. You knew better than to get distracted by daydreams that could only lead to self-sabotage. 
With a decisive nod, you strode towards your car with renewed focus. You would prove yourself at Haus through your skills and work ethic alone. No other agenda, no unprofessional entanglements allowed. 
Your passion was cuisine, creating nourishing dishes that delighted - that had to remain your sole priority. You couldn't afford any distractions from that lest you squander this incredible opportunity. Steadying your breathing, you looked forward with fresh clarity and resolve.
Tomorrow was a new day to earn your place in Harry's formidable kitchen. And this time, you vowed, you were utterly prepared to meet the challenge with your complete and undivided focus.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! this is an idea for a new series that will probably have 6 parts??? i guess. but do tell me if you like it! because there's no use in writing when nobody reads 😭😭
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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)
MDNI +18 Only!!
Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader
Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)
A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.
Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple
CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants
You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.
“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.
“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”
You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.
“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.
“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”
“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”
“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.
“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”
“I’m in!” Essie beams.
“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.
“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”
“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”
You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”
——————
The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.
With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”
“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”
“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.
“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”
Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”
Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”
“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”
“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.
“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.
“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.
“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.
“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.
You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.
Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.
A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.
“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”
You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.
“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”
“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.
You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.
Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.
“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”
He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”
“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.
“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”
“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.
————-
“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”
You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.
“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.
“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”
“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”
“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to
Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.
“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.
“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”
“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.
“Exactly.” Your father confirms.
You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”
You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”
You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.
————
Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.
Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.
“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”
“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”
“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”
“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”
“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.
“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”
“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”
“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.
“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”
—————
Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.
“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”
Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!
“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”
He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”
You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.
He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.
“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”
“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.
“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.
“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”
You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.
“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.
——————
You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.
“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”
“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”
“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.
“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.
“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”
“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.
“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”
“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.
He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.
But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.
————
The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.
Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.
“Wilbur. His name’s—”
“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”
The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.
It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.
Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.
You raise the paper to your eyes and read:
If I Were A Hobbit
If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free
I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees
With furry feet and a merry heart
From adventure’s call, I’d never depart
With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.
In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme
I’d wander the fields beneath the sun
I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun
If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid
But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid
You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.
“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”
You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”
“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”
“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”
He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”
“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.
“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”
“You���re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.
“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.
“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.
You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.
“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”
“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”
He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.
It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.
“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.
“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”
Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.
His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.
You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.
He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.
Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.
————————-
Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.
You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.
“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”
“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”
“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”
“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.
“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”
“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”
“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.
You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”
“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”
“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.
Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.
You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.
He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.
“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.
Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?
You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.
“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”
You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.
“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”
“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.
“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”
“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”
He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”
—————
You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.
“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.
“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”
“You know D’N’D?”
“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.
“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.
“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”
“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”
“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”
“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.
“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”
“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”
“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”
“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”
He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”
You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.
“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”
“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”
There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.
“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.
“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”
Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.
“What do you want?”
You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“
“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.
“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.
“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”
“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.
“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.
“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”
“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”
“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”
“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”
“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”
“I could. Considering I am one.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”
“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.
“We’re friends?”
“Us, geeks, stick together?”
“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”
He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.
“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”
“And what about my car?”
“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.
If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.
————
Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.
“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.
Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.
You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”
“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”
“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”
“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”
“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.
“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”
“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”
“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.
Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.
Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.
“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.
“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”
“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.
“Fair enough.”
“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”
“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.
“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.
“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.
“Payback’s a bitch, love.”
—————
“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.
“Tana!”
“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.
“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”
“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”
“I’m not!” You insist.
“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”
“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.
“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”
“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”
“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.
An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.
You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.
“What the hell is this?” You sneer.
“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.
“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.
“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.
“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.
“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”
“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.
Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”
With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.
“If I could just explain...” You begin.
“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”
You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.
“I was just having fun.”
“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”
“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.
Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”
You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”
Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.
“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”
Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.
————-
You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.
A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.
“What do you want, twerp?” You say.
“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.
“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”
“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”
“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.
“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.
————
The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.
The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.
However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.
His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.
“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”
He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”
“Understand?” You ask.
“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”
“Accept?”
“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.
“You don’t hate me?”
“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.
“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”
“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”
“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.
“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.
For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.
“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.
“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”
You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”
“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.
You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”
Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”
“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”
“No way.”
“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”
“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.
“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”
“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”
“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”
“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.
He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”
“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”
“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”
“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”
“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”
“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”
“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.
“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”
He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.
“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”
“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.
He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.
Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.
The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.
“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.
“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.
“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.
And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.
He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”
“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.
Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”
And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.
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837 notes · View notes
thepersonnamedsam · 6 months
Text
the boyfriend - the genz!driver
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pairing: 24!grid x the genz!driver, gzd x the boyfriend
summary: the grid finds out about the secret boyfriend of the genz!driver
word count: 1.8k
warnings: not proof read
note: i got so many requests about the grid finding out about a boyfriend, i decided not to use anyone famous, as i do think our beloved driver would want to have a private relationship.
maybe the boyfriend will make more appearances? that’s up to you, so let me know :)
masterlist / taglist
Maintaining a relationship outside of F1 was hard, but it was much harder for the only woman on the grid, who’s relationship status was all the media could think about.
But, the young y/n made it work. He wasn’t famous, by any means. He was just some young man from her hometown, whom she knew most of her life, but never thought about dating. But here they were, giggling over some memories and sharing drinks.
His blue eyes were staring deeply into hers and she felt chills rising over her whole body. He made her feel normal. Yes, that’s the word she would describe this whole relationship, normal. She loved him truly and was so glad to have him all to herself.
He knew about her job, of course, how couldn’t he? But he wasn’t jealous, nor was he angry about all the travelling and the media, he just wanted to see her succeed.
He was her safe space.
She swore to never tell anyone outside of family about him. She wanted him all to herself. The media, the world, can’t know about her little happy bubble. This was all for herself. Some would call y/n selfish, but she was just enjoying the time outside the spotlight.
What she didn’t think was the boys catching on to her love sickness. Lando in general. She thought that boy was as oblivious as HeyHey the chicken. But he caught onto the demeanour change of the young woman.
„What’s been going on with you?“, he asked her before the Australian race. The young driver looked up to the papaya coloured boy. „What do you mean?“ - „I mean, you have been smiling at your phone, who you smiling at? You don’t have any friends outside F1, sorry. And you haven’t been mean to any of us this weekend, not even Pierre.“
y/n shrugged her shoulders and just looked at her best friend. „It’s not that important“, she said. „Do I have to call Seb?“ - „No, don’t call Seb, I‘ll tell you, if you don’t tell anyone else!“
She didn’t want Seb involved in any of this. Not because she didn’t want to see Seb again, but he would overreact like hell.
So, when the race started on Sunday and her boyfriend got up in the early mornings to send her a sweet good luck message, she was racing for a podium. With Max out of the race, chances weren’t even half bad.
She knew the two Ferraris in front of her wouldn’t budge and her car wasn’t fast enough to even reach them. But it would be enough to reach the third spot on that podium.
With Lando right behind her, she felt this was a perfect first podium. Sharing it with the two Ferrari boys and Lando right behind her. All that was missing was him.
He was sitting in front of the TV cheering for his girlfriend and waking up the whole household when she crossed that finish line as third. Oh how he wished to be there with her to celebrate that first podium. But he was back home.
y/n was screaming. Her coms had been deactivated, so no one would have serious damage. She was so happy. The first podium ever for her.
She parked her car on the significant spot and jumped out of it, standing on top of her halo. Hands thrown up into the air. It was a feeling she’d never forget. When she got down, Carlos and Charles were waiting for her. She squealed and jumped into their arms.
She made history.
And when she stood on that podium, looking straight into the camera, she blew him a kiss, knowing he’d watch her.
Later that evening, the grid went partying. They found this exclusive club, thanks to Danny, and just let it all out. Even Max was there, he couldn’t let the opportunity go to celebrate the young driver.
„You have to call him now!“, shouted Lando. „Lando!“, she shouted back. „Who do you have to call? We’re all here?“, Danny asked y/n. „No one“, she tried to cover up Landos mistake.
„Who’s ,him‘?“, asked Fernando. „I heard the milk boy clearly, who is he?“
„I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t want spill your boyfriend“, Lando apologised. The young driver just groaned, how can one be so stupid?
„Boyfriend?!“ „You have a boyfriend?“ „Wtf, y/n has a boyfriend?“ Was heard throughout the club.
The young woman sighed, „Yes, I have a boyfriend, is that so surprising?“
„It’s not that, y/n, promise, it’s just so weird seeing you all grown up“, Lewis said to her, „Who is he, what’s his name, what does he do, hm? We want to know all about him and why you haven’t told us about him.“
„Okay, so…“
And she told them everything, how he was a childhood friend, how they met in school. How they met over winter break she spent at home in her local food shop and how they instantly clicked again. How she asked him out on a date and the rest of it was history.
„I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell us?“, Danny sounded hurt and y/n‘s heart broke into a little million pieces. „I just wanted him on my own, I knew if I told you guys, you’d wanted to meet him, which means taking him to a race, which then means he’d be seen by the media and the whole world. I like having a normal relationship with him. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, you are my family too after all.“
„It’s okay, little one“, Nando patted her on the back to console the young driver, „Next time, just tell us, we won’t judge.“
„I actually hope, there won’t be a next time…“
„Oh, y/n, I hope for you that there will be a next time. Enjoy the butterflies that come with love. He’s the first one and will always remain the special one, but believe me, there will be others waiting there for you“, Daniel said with a slight laugh.
„You can’t say anything sentimental without your signature sentence, can you?“, y/n laughed. Daniel just shrugged.
„Call him!“, Lando said, once again. „Okay, okay, I will“, y/n finally gave in.
His phone rang with your face on the screen. He happily picked up, expecting his beautiful girlfriend on the other side in her hotel room. What he didn’t expect was his girlfriend trying to fit 19 men on her display.
„Hi baby“, she said happily. He could make out, that she was tipsy if not already drunk. „Hi my love, congratulations on your podium, you did so well, sweetheart.“ - „Thank you, I’m so happy! But, there are a lot of people who want to meet you, actually. Meet the grid!“
Her boyfriend watched the men on the other side of the screen fighting to reach for her phone. „Boys, one at a time, he’ll be overwhelmed“, she giggled.
Lewis was the first one to grab her phone and started his parent-ly rant about not hurting the girl or he‘ll show up with Roscoe. Her boyfriend nodded and promised the older driver to never hurt her.
Daniel was the second one and demanded he tells him a joke. „Uhm, okay, why do cows wear bells?“, he asked Danny. „I don’t know, you tell me.“ - „Because their horns don’t work?“ Daniel snorted and gave her boyfriend a thumps up. „I like him“, he then whispered to y/n.
„How much do you like her?“, Charles asked the poor boy. „I like her like the earth loves the sun, how without it no life would ever grow again.“ Charles looked at the young man and was deeply impressed. „Okay, alright, I guess that’s enough?“
And when Oscar got the phone, all he did was say ,hi‘ and pass it to Zhou. The latter wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say. As he didn’t know the young driver very well. But he did as everyone did and threatened the boyfriend.
Valterri, Esteban and Nico just made a ,dad stare‘ as they would call it. And Carlos said some sweet words about her.
It went on and on until Lando got the phone last. He ran away with it and tried to speak with him privately.
y/n laughed, but wasn’t sure what he was gonna tell her boyfriend.
„Don’t worry, Lando won’t do anything stupid, well, maybe he will, but he won’t cause any harm. You know him“, Oscar reassured her. „I know“, she sighed, „But I’d still like to know what they’re talking about.“
„You know, one time she had to get her wisdom teeth removed and it was so funny seeing her on anaesthesia, oh my god, you should’ve seen her!“
„Oh and there was one time, she crashed because of an engine failure, and she was so sad, but she looked so cute, I swear, like a little baby!“
„Man, are you sure you’re just best friends? You’ve been talking about her like you love her“, her boyfriend said timidly.
„Of course I love her, but she’s my muppet, I couldn’t ever love her like you do, I see it in your eyes, the eyes chico, they never lie“, he giggled.
„I uhm, how did you know? I haven’t told her yet, so please don’t do it for me“, he begged. „I won’t, but no promises, I’m real bad at keeping secrets, to be honest“, Lando tried to promise.
After a while, he handed the phone back to y/n. „Here you go, be lovesick with your boyfriend“, he said in a sing-sung voice.
„Thank you, Lando“, she smiled and gave him a kiss on his cheek, „Thank you to all of you for being so accepting and understanding.“
„We wouldn’t do it any other way, y/n“, Pierre said. „But if he hurts you, we will collectively show up to his house and we can’t promise anything“, Charles threatened.
„Oh guys, I love you all so much, but please don’t hurt my boyfriend.“
„No promises“, Nando whispered darkly. „What was that, Nando? Did you say anything?“, y/n asked him. „No, cariño, nothing at all, we love you too.“
Later, late at night in Australia, y/n‘s boyfriend called her again.
„You know, they all threatened me and I actually got scared. Uhm, Fernando, was it? He is so scary. I thought he was a big old softy, they was you talk about him and his Taylor Swift obsession, but man, was he scary.“
y/n giggled and said, „He is a big softy, he just doesn’t show it that much. What did Carlos say to you? I didn’t understand what he was saying.“ Her boyfriend smiled lovingly at y/n. „Nothing important, just how you bring light into their life’s and how happy they are for us.“ - „Awww Carlitos, I have to thank him the next time.“
„You know, I do think Lando is in love with you, if I didn’t know how much you like me, I would feel threatened“, he laughed lightly.
„I don’t just like you, I love you.“
„You do?“, his heart was racing, just like she was every other weekend. „I love you too.“
„But I swear to god, if they threaten you ever again, I will purposely crash into them at the next race.“
°°°
taglist:
@ironmaiden1313 , @hiireadstuff , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraurr , @heartmetaphor , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone , @zimm04 , @woozarts , @mellowarcadefun , @deephideoutmolkshake , @grimeslvrr , @tallrock35 , @namgification , @pear-1206 , @trouble-sistar , @jxnellat , @littlesatanicassholebitch
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lilacgaby · 5 days
Note
You don't understand how much I love the is he proposing or... and can you do hawks or shoto please?
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is he proposing or has he been staring at bridal magazines often, asking your opinion on the floral, white dresses?
is he proposing or has he been taking your hand into his, and commenting on which gems he think would compliment your skin color?
is he proposing or has he been taking you to boutiques more frequently after your dates, asking you to try on dresses and buy all the ones that you like?
is he proposing or has he been questioning you more at home, his head in your lap as you watch tv, about what dates are your favorites?
is he proposing or has he been choosing cheesy romcoms that all end in wedding scenes, and jokingly re-enacting some lines with you?
is he proposing or did he send you off with fuyumi one day to go spoil yourselves? you two getting mani-pedis, your hair done, facials, waxings, and her asking some 'random' questions too? l
is he proposing or did he ask you to take the month off (he doesn't know why you work anyways)?
is he proposing or did he fly you two out to his summer home, spending week after week going on hikes, building sandcastles on the beach, swimming in exclusive jacuzzis, and dining on the coast?
is he proposing or did hand you a shell he 'found in the sand', though instead of a pearl it held a huge, sapphire stone with the first words from his planned vows embedded in the side of the ring?
you were momentarily rendered speechless as you looked to find shoto on one knee, looking up at you with a soft smile on his face. he recited perfectly memorized vows to you, speaking on how much he loved you, how he wished to be with you forever, and how beautiful he thought you are. he barely had a chance to ask before you slung your arms around his neck and hugged him, your laughs being the only sound besides the crashing waves. as you released him, your legs on top of his as he finally slipped the ring onto your fingers, you decided to take a walk on the moonlit beach to celebrate your first night as fiancés.
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tags: @thrivingaintmything @hyunsuks-beanie @cupidsblonde
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teamblck · 7 months
Text
the 141 as dads
captain john price-
• this man is would be such a good dad
• we all know for a fact this man has a breeding kink so i see him having like 3/4 kids
• waking up early in the morning and eating bowls of cereal watching old cartoon re runs with them
• would start smoking outside or exclusively in his office because he doesn’t want that around them
• type of dad in his retirement to coach his kids football/soccer team
• the best for laying the child on his chest, humming as they fall asleep
• would be super interested in what his children’s interest are (this goes for all of them but i’m putting it here)
• takes his kids on camping and fishings trips
• loves to play hide-n-seek with his kids
• his kids would mock his actions and stand in front of the tv with his hands behind his back, and when they are napping on the couch his kid would also start snoring cause we all know this man snores LOUDLY
• type of dad whenever his kids mention they like eating something once he buys like 5 boxes of it
• would cry they say their first word no matter what is is
• loves taking them to the park
kyle ‘gaz’ garrick-
• okay literally the best dad ever
• i could see him with like 2 or 3 kids
• MATCHING OUTFITS
• if he had girls he would 1000% learn all kind of cute braid styles for them
• when he found out his spouse was pregnant he would be shocked but happy and would immediately buy 100 what to expect when you’re expecting books
• would hate when he kids got into trouble cause he would hate laying the law down but would sit them down and talk every calm but firm
• then would go into another room and be like 🥺
• would NEVER get angry with his kids
• all the mothers would flirt with him in the pickup line at school and he just ignores it
• he thinks his children deserve the entire world
• his kids call Price grandpa
• will blow raspberries on their stomachs until they they can’t stop giggling
• takes 1000 photos of his kids doing anything and then spam sends them to his spouse
• got so nauseous the first time he changed a diaper
• family halloween outfits
john ‘soap’ mactavish-
• such a fun dad
•pillow forts
• ice cream for breakfast
• if he had a son/sons he would cut their hair in the mohawk style as well
• would want so many children omg
• he comes from a big family so i think he would want one as well
• but if his spouse didn’t want a big family he would be okay with it
• if you’ve watched modern family he would be like phil dunphy
• would put his kids on those kid leashes whenever they go anywhere
• i feel like one thing he would struggle with is saying no to his children
• would always help them with their math and science homework
• type of dad to do push ups while his kids are sitting in his back and they are all giggling
• the proudest dad ever! is at every dance recital or sports game or talent show and if he can’t be (because of his job) he would ask all about it when he got home and even if they did poorly he would still tell them how proud of them he is and go her ice cream
•TICKLE FIGHTS
• it would also tear him up if couldn’t be there during a special event for his children
• i also feel like he would cry at major life milestones
• if his children/kid are into sports all you can hear at games is him yelling across the field
simon ‘ghost’ riley-
• GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON
• just imagine him with a pink baby holder strapped to his chest
• he would be such a good father omg
• with his past with his father he would be super scared at first but then as he’s holding this tiny infant he would get angry (not at child obviously) cause how could anyone treat their child the way his father treated him?
• would be super protective of his children (i mean all of them would tbh)
• as cute as it is for the baby to wear little skull head clothing, i don’t think he would want his children knowing ‘Ghost’.
• i think one thing he would struggle with is when his kids throw tantrums when it’s over something ridiculous like he wouldn’t let them pull their siblings hair or eat something gross off the floor and he doesn’t know how to deal with them. he doesn’t want to get to firm and scare them and he doesn’t want to give into such ridiculous things so he would kinda back away and look at you for help
• his kids would 1000% get his accent
• loves to lift them up with his arms, whooshing them around like they are a super hero
• has tea parties with his kids and their stuffed animals on a regular basis
• such a big softie for his children/child are you kidding me
• his children/kid use him as like a jungle gym and are usually hanging off his arms
• would never tell them what he does for work and when they ask he would just say ‘work’
i would give any of these men children or all of them
let me know if you have any feedback!!
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greenunoreversecard · 7 months
Note
HEYYEYHEY CAN I REQUEST LLOYD (ninjago) HEADCANONS PLEASEEEE (ty :3)
A/N: Ofc!I'll do general character ones, as well as x reader ones :) hope ye likey likey:pp
Lloyd, The Greenest and Geekest mf.
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General character headcanons:
Half Japanese half Chinese
His hair is box blonde dye and you cannot change my mind.
Left handed
Severely dyslexic and hands off all scroll reading and just reading oriented tasks to kai.
Def gen z vibes. Like, the others give off more inbetween z and millenial, so they dont always get his humor. And sometimes he uses that to his advantage and "Speaks in code" (uses as much slang as possible)
Has LED lights in his room set to forest green.
Has given himself a smiley face tattoo.
Cried over a dead goose once.
OK, just to preface i see cole as a stoner of Sorts and uses the excuse "it gets me closer to my element"
With that in mind cole let lloyd try it and now sometimes when he is told to unwind, of feels like he needs to take a chill pill he and Cole spark up
in the beginning of his leader ship role, he used to Say;"kick ass and take names" and if things went wrong he had the fuck it we ball mindset, but got better with time. There are still times they wing it, though.
if he isnt in his gi he almost exclusively wears his pajamas (aka a Hoodie, tshirt and sweats)
Vv tired, and now has a raging addiction to energy drinks due to his lack of Sleep.
He used to eat worms as a kid bc he Thought he it was evil.
Has a eyebrow piercing, and wants a tongue piercing.
Wears "reading" glasses, that he should technically wear all the time because he can't see up close and has a astigmatism,, but he says yolo. Zane then make him contacts after he almost ran into a moving blade and got his head severed.
Adhd and OCD, as well as the normal line up (anxiety, depression, cptsd)
Lloyd in a relationship:
Hes very distant in the beginning, it'll take time to warm up to you.
He tends to be orage cat vibes.
On the cat trend, he gets close for a bit Before becoming distant. Going through waves of affection, kinda.
He hasn't had like, any good relationships in his life so he tries to "protect" himself when he feels he gets to close to you, and so he pulls away.
He does the fuckboy face when your sad bc it makes you laugh, as well as That weird dice roll
He actually does the face/dice roll combo whenever he Sees you as he walks over, it's an inside joke now
primary giving love language: acts of service and quality time
Primary receiving love language: gifts and words of affirmation. But physical touch is also high up there.
Also, not expensive gifts. He hates those. Give him a stick you saw on a walk that made you think of him. He'll cherish it forever. And maybe cry.
He will cry.
will make noises at you and expects a noise in response or he'll be sad.
Also randomly bites you. He's a nommer
also sends you memes throughout the day.
As well as random pictures with the caption;"BABY LOK THIS IS S. US IF WE WHERE *insert whatever item here*
Called you babe, baby, love, shitface, asshole.
Expect kind and loving gentle bullying.
Doesnt know how to express his emotions to just expect him to come up to you, lightly shake your shoulders and aggressively say;"I love you bitch.i ain't Evea gon stop lovin you. Bitchhhhhhh" (vine reference)
Sends you .5 of everyone, himself included. He's addicted to Taking them. You will not get out of it.
Also sometimes just walks around in nyas stilettos for fun.
You two have fashion shows.
You also take over the Living room sometimes and build giant ass forts to watch shitty reality tv in and make fun oF The people
Overall, once he realizes you won't leave he's the most funniest loving chaotic guy.
But expect it to take a hot minute for him to realsie this
give him time,, but also have some deep talks..
Let him vent
and for the love of God don't hurt the baby's heart.
Expect inside jokes
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luvnoirs · 7 months
Note
MORE PAIGEEE
senior night
paring: paige x fem!reader synopsis: paige asks you to be her girlfriend during senior night warning(s): none ! (sfw) word count: 1.2k
a/n: this was a request (i changed it just a bit) and i feel like i kinda rushed it a little cause i wanted to hurry and give y'all something so im sorry for that 😭
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you only had one goal tonight: do not cry.
it was senior night at uconn tonight and since you were extremely close friends with the women's basketball team, you stood in the crowd cheering on as the seniors on the team began receiving their plaques. you knew that regardless of their decision to stay at uconn or persue their career beyond college, your friendship with the girls would never falter. you would even call them your sisters and you successfully held back tears at the sight of watching them be recognized for all their hard work and contribution to the huge legacy that uconn holds.
though as one particular blonde started walking across the gym floor along with her family members, you felt your heart tug.
you had just seen her before the game, wishing her good luck with a swift kiss on the cheek and a sweet smile. if you two weren't in front of a sold-out crowd and cameras showcasing the game on national television, you would have given her that kiss on the lips like you've been doing for the past few weeks.
at first, you two thought it was nothing. it was normal for friends to kiss each other, right? though with one too many shots at ted's one night and an entire dorm room to yourself, one thing led to another, and shortly, the two of you became casual sex partners. you both agreed not to let it ruin your friendship and that it was just for fun, but you couldn't help but start feeling something that was more than platonic for the girl.
though the complicated friendship between you and paige might've been a secret to everyone else, it didn't go unnoticed by your friend azzi. the girl was constantly nagging you about the two of you making things official, but you simply didn't have the courage to tell paige how you really felt about her.
moments later, all the seniors began to line up to say a special speech, and one by one they all went, leaving paige to be the last one to speak.
she grabbed the microphone from aubrey and spoke, "uh, i can't put into words what this program has meant to me—what you guys have meant to me..."
and as she continued speaking, you felt your smile grow. even before you and paige started seeing each other exclusively, you've always been friends and loved each other, so you know exactly what she's been through and how much she struggled behind closed doors.
you can remember being there to comfort her last season when she was out due to her injury. paige had shown up to your dorm, her usual happy expression replaced with a straight face and watery blue eyes. you two had spent that night watching tv and talking about the most random topics to take paige's mind off of missing the season as she snuggled into you on your couch.
and ever since that day, it has become your ritual. paige spent at least one night a week over at your dorm, even sleeping over until the next day some times. she even bothered to stop giving you a heads up and just used the spare key that you had given her to let herself in whenever she pleased.
you let out a quiet laugh at the memory of her walking in while your back was turned, and she thought it would be a good idea to scare you. and after that day, she swore to never sneak up on you again after ending up with a nasty bruise on the side of her face due to the force of your fast reflex.
"and one more thing—and i just know she's gonna kill me for this, but i've spent these past few days trying to figure out how to do this." paige said as the crowd grew quiet in anticipation.
your eyes squinted in confusion as you watched her. you were just as confused as everyone else.
"but tonight is special, so i thought, why not do it tonight? a huge reason why this won't be my last senior night is because of a very, very special woman who has helped me through my tough times and has, in general, made me a better person. without her, or, of course, my fellow teammates, i'm not sure i would have made it through this season so far, and i just want to thank her for being there for me."
the crowd erupted in more cheers, some even shedding a few tears, while you stood with your mouth open, wondering what the hell she was talking about.
"i don't want to make this too sappy or take up too much of your time, so with that being said, i want to ask y/n to come up here, please."
your heart sank. at first, you thought you were hearing the wrong thing, but since the team already knew where you were seated, they all turned towards you and began cheering. i stood in shock as they gestured for me to come down onto the gym floor as the rest of the crowd began clapping and whistling. i watched as a few of the teammates started jumping around with red and pink balloons and a few signs, one of 'i love you'. you wondered how they even managed to hide that.
with a hand over your mouth, you began excusing yourself as you made your way past the fans and down the stairs to the main floor. paige stood in the middle with the microphone still in her hand and a huge smile on her face. your feet felt like they were glued to the ground, and she must've noticed, so she began walking towards you instead.
"y/n, i couldn't tell you why i didn't do this sooner because, honestly, i've loved you since our freshman year here..."
and as paige continued, you felt yourself finally cry. with a huff, you tried to wipe them away before they fell but it was just too many tears escaping at once. her long legs allowed her to reach you in no time and she lifted her free hand to softly wipe the tears that you failed to catch with the pad of her thumb.
"... so, i want to ask you to officially be mine," paige handed the microphone to aaliyah who was nearby, and grabbed my face with both of her hands. "will you be my girlfriend?"
you barely had any time to blink because, as soon as you said yes, the blonde engulfed you in a hug, lifting you off the floor to even spin you around. the crowd loved it.
"paige!" you laughed, as she finally placed you back on your feet. you placed your hands on top of your head in disbelief. "you... i can't believe you did this! you could've asked me on a regular wednesday afternoon, and i would've said yes."
paige scoffed, "you know i'm extra and gotta go all out."
your response was cut short by the rest of the team bombarding you with hugs and more cheers.
"you guys were behind all this?" you asked them, and they all nodded.
"girl, everyone knew about you two. it was so obvious." ice said knowingly, and the rest of the team nodded in agreement. "and jana you owe me ten bucks."
"you guys did not make a bet on me." paige said in disbelief, and jana shrugged.
"i didn't think you would actually do it.”
and as the rest of the team went on in conversation, you grabbed your girlfriend's hand and placed a kiss on the back of her palm.
"i love you."
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stil-lindigo · 1 year
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Comics Masterpost (organised by collection)
Please heed relevant content warnings on each post. Completed collections have physical and digital copies available for purchase on my store.
Soliloquy Down to Three [COMPLETED]
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Soliloquy down to Three is an anthology of dark sapphic comics, all of which are a mix of both old and new inspiration. Its title is a line from 'craters', indicating that the phrase "I love you" manages to fit a whole monologue worth of feeling into three words.
The compiled version contains exclusive illustrations for each couple, as well as a secret ending to 'craters'.
1. fishing twine 2. hook, line and sinker (sequel to 'fishing twine) cw: suggestive imagery 3. RED cw: suggestive imagery, blood, murder with an axe 4. RED - epilogue cw: blood 5. patchwork canary cw: mouth + neck mutilation, blood 6. craters cw: implications of suicide
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10PM [COMPLETED]
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10pm is a collection of introspective comics that covers feelings of aimlessness, alienation and finding joy in creativity again. Its full title is "It's 10pm. Do you know who you are?" which is a twist on the old PSAs that used to play on American TVs reminding parents to check up on their children.
1. the parade
2. the elevator
3. the machine
4. the candle
5. the stone
6. the dredger
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Hearteaters [COMPLETED]
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Heart-eaters is an anthology about the ugliest, gory-est, most heartfelt and most brutal parts of love. Sitting at a whopping 180 pages, Heart-eaters is the longest anthology I've made yet, and took over a year to finish in full.
The compiled books available for purchase on my store contain an exclusive joint-comic to "Shallow Grave" and poem named "Laozi's bowl", as well as 9 original full-page art splashes unique to their assigned stories.
1. the sunset cw: gun violence, death, blood 2. the calamity cw: eye scarring, blood, eye mutilation, gore (minimal) 3. seeing clearer (epilogue to 'the calamity') cw: biblical references 4. shallow grave cw: gravestone imagery 5. bite of winter (joint comic to 'scorched earth') cw: gore, blood, death, cannibalism, dismemberment 6. scorched earth (joint comic to 'bite of winter') cw: blood, death, burning alive, beheading 7. ashes to ashes (prequel comic to 'scorched earth') 8. little dove (prequel comic to 'scorched earth') 9. warmth 10. the fox god cw: emotional manipulation, animal abuse 11. the fields cw: blood, animal death, mild gore and blood
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ititledit · 1 year
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We have brothers, sons, lovers – but they can’t live here!’ The happy home shared by 26 women
With residents aged from 58 to 94, New Ground is the UK’s first cohousing community exclusively for older women. Setting it up was an 18-year battle – but with soaring numbers of people living alone, is this an idea whose time has come?
Chipping Barnet, a leafy suburb of north London, is an unlikely location for a feminist utopia. Yet it is here, at the top of the high street, past the Susi Earnshaw theatre school and the Joie de Vie patisserie, that you will find Britain’s first cohousing community exclusively for women over 50. The purpose-built development is entirely managed by the women who set it up as an alternative to living alone.
New Ground’s entrance, all glass and bold typography, could easily be mistaken for a co-working space, as could the common room I am ushered into. Everything is bright, airy and spotlessly clean. The walls are lined with sleek white bookcases and a cinema-grade TV screen. The only clue as to the residents’ demographic is an unfinished 1,000-piece jigsaw on a table overlooking the large garden.
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felassan · 29 days
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Thoughts on DA: Vows & Vengeance -
[info compilation post link] [more info on the podcast]
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this post is rather unstructured : )
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I know what BW said about how there won't be official transcripts, but I hope that they decide to post official transcripts of each episode if it's possible, as it's rly important for accessibility & inclusivity.
I like the title - the alliteration is fun, and the concepts of vengeance and revenge are a DA thematic staple atp. it's neat that it's free and the spacing of one episode per week until mid/late October will help pass the time until launch (the last podcast episode releases 2 weeks before DA:TV Release Day). it's also cool to see DA expand into new forms of media, and I'm excited that we will hear lots more lines from each of the 7 Veilguard companions. 👁️
here is one of the podcast writers, Jeremy Novick, on Twitter.
I’m really looking forwards to Taash and Davrin’s episodes of the podcast in particular ◕‿◕ it feels like we don't know much about them or their backstories relative to the other DA:TV companions at this point in time.
Nadia Carcosa, Drayden and Elio are described as being "podcast-exclusive" characters, I guess this means they will not appear in the game itself (which helps the podcast storyline stay self-contained and the podcast to remain as optional listening). but it would be cool if in the game there is some references to them here and there, like in dialogue and/or codex entries/notes etc. 😊
in the background image of the teaser trailer and what looks like the thumbnail for the podcast[?] on podcasting sites, the two faction symbols shown are the Mourn Watch and the Shadow Dragons. is this a coincidence/just since their symbols look cool, or are these two factions the factions with the biggest roles in the podcast storyline relative to the others? the penultimate episodes are the ones that focus on Emmrich and Neve 🤔
"revenge, redemption, and love": these themes mixed together often produce regret. and there was a quote somewhere in DA:TV marketing materials that said “For DA:TV [the game itself], from the start one of the biggest themes has been regret; how regret shaped peoples’ lives, how people deal with their regrets, how people maybe move past their regrets.”
Mae Whitman previous credits include: Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World Brigette Lundy-Paine previous credits include: Bill & Ted Face the Music, Atypical, I Saw the TV Glow Armen Taylor previous credits include: Diablo IV, Octopath Traveler II, Vinland Saga
I wonder when the podcast is set? maybe in the weeks to months before Varric, Harding, Neve and Rook go to Solas' ritual site in the game's prologue? I also wonder what lineages Nadia, Drayden and Elio are? If Drayden has a mysterious connection to the Fade, they're most likely to be human or elven, right?
cat burglar, thief, scoring jobs like the one described in the podcast's plotblurbs - these kind of plot beats remind me of what we learned about an earlier concept of DA:TV when the game was more about stuff like heists and spies.
Nadia being a thief unknowingly employed by the Dread Wolf to track down a powerful ancient artifact before finding herself tangled up in everything: this reminds me sm of one of the 'here's what the DA4 PC's backstory could be and how they could end up caught up in the narrative of the game'-speculation ideas I used to wonder about hhh.
a retired cat burglar.. maybe Nadia has ties to the Lords of Fortune? some of them seem to be more thiefy. although, being wanted by Tevinter authorities for crimes of theft, high treason and murder maybe points towards Shadow Dragons instead.
two lovers going on a job to get an artifact reminds me of Irian Cestes and Vadis from TN. "burglar" also gives me Hobbit/LOTR vibes :D I imagine that over the many years since DA:I, the Dread Wolf has employed many such people [unknowingly to them] on jobs like this.
Elio being "seemingly" banished to the Fade is interesting wording.. so is "banished" actually. (Elio's Fade banishment also makes me think of foreshadowing Solas' subsequent entry to Fade Jail in DA:TV.) ((shoutout to left-in-the-Fade-Hawkes' LIs who I can also imagine desperately searching for answers on a rescue mission across all of Thedas after learning that Hawke was left in the Fade in DA:I...))
Carcosa
I'm reaaally curious about what Drayden's mysterious connection to the Fade is all about and entails.
"a few [answers] they wish they hadn’t" 👁️...
the question is, what the powerful ancient artifact is, and why does Solas want it? if he wants it it's probably ancient elven, right?
On the trailer itself
"This chamber, it feels different from the cave. I can sense something. The Veil is thin here." - I'd guess this speaker is Drayden. it isn't Nadia, as we hear her later on. the speaker can sense the thin/thickness of the Veil and Drayden is said to have a mysterious connection to the Fade. at this point they're in some kind of, well, chamber, as the speaker's voice echoes and you can hear water dripping down the damp walls.
The announcer's voice is so deep hh!
To be wanted by Tevinter authorities for crimes including high treason, maybe Nadia is from Tevinter? treason is "the crime of betraying one's country, especially by attempting to kill or overthrow the sovereign or government." so to commit treason in Tevinter context, you're probably from Tevinter.
"Who the hell is Nadia Carcosa?" - this sounds like Varric. :>
"So, what's the mark?" - I'd guess this speaker is Nadia. they sound scrappy/seasoned (Nadia is nearly retired), and the speaker is probably asking for more details on the job they've just acquired to do. does she sound like she could be a dwarf to anyone else or is this just me? :D maybe that's just my daydreams hhh
"The Eye of Kethisca" quote: presumably the middle man who Solas hired to hire someone, thereby keeping his own identity secret
The Eye of Kethisca itself: this must be the "powerful ancient artifact" from the text blurbs. there are no hits for "Kethisca" on the DA Wiki, so this is a new name/thing. it must be creepy-deepy, because when it's mentioned in the trailer you can hear creepy voices whispering ominously. :D "Kethisca" doesn't sound elven, but you could easily have an artifact that's e.g. ancient elven but acquired another name or been called something else by others in the centuries since.
"The Eye was made from a rare gem mined here in the caves beneath us. It was crafted centuries ago by a powerful Dreamer." - Solas speaking. I wonder how oblique/lies of omission/technically true (you know what I mean? that thing he does) Solas is being here.. like maybe the Dreamer was an ancient elvhen Dreamer not a human Tevinter one, like maybe the centuries ago were centuries and centuries and centuries ago dating back to Elvhenan rather than later on temporally at say, a more recent time in history like the height of the Imperium. "Eye" makes me think of spherical things, "gem" makes me think of how lyrium (Titans' blood) is a mineral. caves makes me think of dwarfy things and the Deep Roads. as for "mined":
"The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and... something else. It's not clear."
what if the Eye is the heart of a Titan, a foci? Solas' Orb was spherical and the hearts of Titans look spherical here in the Death of a Titan mural. the way he frames it makes it sound like the mark is a rare jewel mined from caves by a Tevinter human dreamer long ago before being crafted into something, but I wonder if it was, more technically, the heart of a Titan mined from the body of a Titan even longer ago by, say, a member of the Evanuris, before being crafted into a foci. Solas needed his own foci in DA:I to carry out his plans, and then it was broken. there was more than one foci in ancient Elvhenan; after DA:I and Trespasser, I could see a world/storyline in which, during the long years between then and DA:TV, Solas at some point learns that another one of the foci artifacts survived into the modern day, and decided to try and get his hands on it so that he can carry out his plan using another foci instead. and since the foci can do Fadey/Veily stuff, that could be how Elio got yeeted in there. reminds me a bit of the scene when the Inquisitor yeets Cory at the end of DA:I. (here I'm just speculating wildly for fun hhh. Solas' Orb doesn't really look like a gem etc. and the Lyrium Knife tears the Veil, so maybe this storyline was set before he got that or sth)
also I wonder where these caves are? beneath Minrathous? Solas has a hideout beneath Minrathous, as we know, and the deeper you go the more elfy things get.
Magister Andante: I think this is our first time hearing about this character. their name reminds me of Andraste.
"Magister Andante? It's about Nadia. She's about to do something quite reckless." - this sounds to me like Neve speaking. it kind of sounds like she's meeting the magister clandestinely, at night. she seems to know Nadia.
"Listen to me, you've been tricked. This isn't a simple grab-and-go for the money. There are bigger forces at play. We have to put this back and leave." - I'd guess this speaker is Elio. it sounds like at this point he and Nadia have found the Eye and taken it, but he's trying to get her to see reason/warn her. it's a tense moment with the sound of battle all around them.
"I'm sorry, but I won't let you pay for my mistakes." - Nadia refusing to listen to Elio. the sounds of battle get louder and it sounds like there's an explosion or something? plus the dragon roar. maybe Mr dragon is breathing fire everywhere. :D I wonder as well if it's Elio grunting in pain at this point. I'd guess this is the moment where Elio is seemingly yeeted into the Fade perhaps?
"Nadia, I presume. I am Solas, and I am, I believe, the one that you seek." - Solas again obviously, only this time sounding way more godly and Fen'Harelly in persona (booming) than he did when he was talking more demurely/plainly about what the Eye is.
"The name I seek is the Dread Wolf" - Nadia again obviously :) so something in the job went wrong, she figures out who hired them, and goes to find the Dread Wolf presumably because she either blames him for Elio being stuck in the Fade and/or she thinks he might be able to get him out or tell her how.
"The Eye will destroy you" - and this sounds like Neve again maybe?
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ikeuluvr · 6 months
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asking you to the school dance || enha hyung line
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synopsis - how enhypen’s hyung line would ask you to the school dance
enhypen x reader / best friends to lovers / warnings - none! :) / wc ~200 per member
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  
heeseung is a very straightforward type of man. he’s not shy to share his feelings and wants with you because he knows how important communication is in your friendship. however, for the first time in his fourteen years of friendship with you, he’s struggling to tell you how he feels. “I’m in love with you,” he wants to scream until his lungs give out every time he sees you, but how do you naturally spring that onto a person? tired of not being able to call you his love, heeseung devises a plan to ask you to be his date to the school dance, and, in life. knowing that extravagance isn’t your cup of tea, he carries out his plan on your weekly gaming night so you won’t grow suspicious. he opens minecraft on his tv and tells you to look at the house he had built, only for there to be no house, but the words “can i be your date to the dance?” with a geeky smile he has you look farther to the right of the proposal where another one lay, “...and your boyfriend?”
big and extravagant public attention grabbers aren’t necessarily jay’s thing. he loves to make things intimate and special in his way without eyes always on him. when the winter formal was announced, jay knew he had to ask you to be his date before anyone else could. he invited you to his place for a cozy home-cooked meal made by jay himself. jay is usually a nonchalant type of guy, but he was nearly sweating through his shirt because of how nervous he was. with a little help from his mom, he got you to leave the kitchen while he plated both of your meals, carefully curating the word “FORMAL?” across the rim of your plate with sauce. jay placed the newly decorated plate in front of you after your return from a chat with his mom, a shaky gleam in his eyes waiting for your response. “jay, i’d love to be your date,” you smile at him, pulling him into a hug and leaving a kiss on his cheek that turns him redder than the tomatoes on your plate.
what really sparked your friendship with jake was your mutual love for music. as the two of you grew closer, you would send each other new music to listen to every day. whether it be a new artist, a song, an album, a playlist, or a performance, the two of you always find something that the other would enjoy. you could send a simple “i’m bored” text to jake and he’d have four performance videos, two albums, and three new artists for you to indulge in to cure your boredom. it was nothing out of the ordinary for you and jake to create playlists for each other either, so when he sends a new one titled “hey y/n…” it doesn’t even faze you until it's opened. “I was… Enchanted… To Meet You…” the songs read in order, “So… Let’s Be… The Life of the Party… at Prom?... Be My Date!” you cheesed ear to ear when you realized what jake had just asked you. “P.S. I Like You,” was the last song on the playlist, leaving a whole zoo in your stomach in excitement to tell jake you’ve always felt the same way.
sunghoon is the corniest dude you have ever met in your life. there’s never a day where he’s not spitting bad jokes your way or making the most sarcastic comments that make your eyes roll. he definitely thinks he’s the funniest person in the world. while deciphering through all of his options of how he wants to ask you to be his date to the school dance, he came to the consensus of something cute and simple: a sign. sunghoon loves those cheesy proposal signs that he sees on tiktok and pinterest that use witty play on words. he wanted to make his sign special and make it exclusive towards your friendship. the first time the two of you spent time alone together was after your friends ditched the two of you on a movie night, leaving you and sunghoon to go see the movie Minions. that night also happened to be the night that sunghoon realized he had feelings for you. sunghoon chose to make that night his inspiration for his sign, painting the phrase “y/n, you are one in a minion. be my date?” onto his posterboard. your heart melted at the sight of your best friend standing outside your front door, sign in hand… dressed as a minion. naturally, sunghoon had to go all out. overalls, yellow face paint, goggles, and all. to him, it was worth it to see you smile and laugh the way you did.
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bengiyo · 5 months
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We Are Sucks, and BL Will Be Worse When This Succeeds
We Are the series, the latest empty drivel from New Siwaj, has crossed a line for me that I cannot abide. This show is nothing more than loosely connected setups for BL moments that are easy to gif or clip for maximum virality, designed to fulfill a financial obligation to iQIYI and otherwise keep the B- and C-tier BL pairs occupied with work. This show is saying nothing about the human condition with any verve, and there is no queer subtext or text to pull from any of these characters that the viewer isn’t already bringing to the table. 
I had stopped writing Stray Thoughts for this show because it doesn’t really have much of a plot or story to tell, but I am not going to be able to continue this show past episode 5. This show is the BL equivalent of a cumshot compilation. It is designed exclusively as fap material to coo over known BL pairs smiling at each other. I was chatting with @twig-tea yesterday about how after five episodes we still don’t really have anything resembling an arc for these characters and how it’s just a bunch of BL dudes hanging out. Twig described it as “disingenuous to [even] call it a show” and “...a bunch of compatibility workshops strung together.”
I hate this so much. There is no story being told here. This is like watching actor reels on IG or TikTok. There is nothing here to hold onto other than your baseline fondness for the cast. There was a moment in episode 5 that felt completely unscripted between Aou and Boom that felt like Boom reacting to being teased by Aou and not a moment between their characters. They didn’t even let Aou’s character confess the specificity of his feelings because they don’t matter to this show! It doesn’t matter why he likes Boom’s character! Just that he does! Why does Boom’s character respond so positively to these feelings? Why didn’t he take initiative on his own before? What changed at all? What’s the goddamn story here? There’s nothing! We just make it up and enjoy the smiles.
I usually don’t want to bitch about shows I don’t like extensively on here, and I especially don’t like spamming tags with negative commentary or musing on shows. However, there are 11 more episodes of this empty nothing, and 30 more episodes of New Siwaj trash on the horizon. He has become the GMMTV BL Babysitter, and I am horrified by what this means for the genre. I try to stay patient with New because usually he captures some form of gay melancholy or angst in his shows, but there is none of that here in We Are. All of these characters know each other and are basically just hanging out for about an hour of TV. 
I worry about stuff like this being good enough to monetize. There’s nothing interesting for me in this experience with a queer lens. There is no real story being told, and caring about any details as if they matter leads to questioning the integrity of the characters (are we really doing a slave narrative in a college BL again?). It feels like the end product of giving up on chasing ratings and only chasing virality to monetize the talent for ad spots, concerts, fan meets, and merch. No longer do we even need to make stories about compelling romances between men. We just need to get passably attractive boys on screen together and just ask them to smile. 
What does it mean for the genre if GMMTV goes another step forward with this and no longer brings any robust writing to the BL table. Are we satisfied with BL as glorified slideshows of shippable actors? What happens when GMMTV is able to easily milk this over other robust productions? Is this just the filler fluff to keep people engaged with the network between their solid projects to prove their bonafides? BL has always struggled with depictions of queerness, but are we at the point where we don't even try to tell stories that even feel queer? Is just simply putting boys next to each other enough? I don’t like this at all, and it unsettled me as I watched five episodes of We Are only to feel nothing. 
I am always half-joking about being over New Siwaj, but I really am at this point. 
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my-plastic-life · 27 days
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Inspiring Women: Rumiko Takahashi
New custom doll is here! I'm sure we all know about the Mattel Barbie Inspiring Women doll line, right? Well, I took it upon myself to create one of my own because I'm sure Mattel will never make one lol. Click here for behind the scenes on how I made this doll!
I opted to create an Inspiring Woman Barbie based off Rumiko Takahashi, the Japanese manga artist who created my all-time favorite manga and anime, Inuyasha. But that isn't the sole reason she's deserving of this title. Yes, that creation got me into all things Japan and introduced me to the entire anime genre, but this mangaka has excelled in her career for 45 years - a profession that has been primarily male-dominated since its inception.
I also created a box for her designed after the official Mattel Inspiring Women boxes. The outfit she's wearing is inspired by the one she wore during the 2023 knighthood honor she received. Accessories include her most recent book, Rumiko Takahashi: Colors 1978-2024, as well as her 35th anniversary book that comes with removable genuine sketches, plus the first volume of the Inuyasha manga (original Japanese version). The doll I used was the Asian sister of Ariel from the live action Little Mermaid, but I cut her hair and styled it differently, painted some age lines on her face, removed her pink eyeshadow, and gave her some glasses. I also gave her a curvy body with the same articulation that dolls in this series have - movement at the shoulder, elbow, wrist, hip, and knee. Because I'm that much of a perfectionist. :D
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Doll in the Inspiring Women box. The scene behind her is an actual photo of Rumiko Takahashi's studio.
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Back of the box, all made by me based on actual Inspiring Women boxes.
Fun facts: Takahashi has never been married, and she has stated in interviews that she doesn't plan to. In addition, she works with women exclusively as she writes and creates. She has specifically said that she wouldn't hire a male assistant because he would be "troublesome." She prefers the atmosphere of a studio of women working together without distraction. Her work stands out among other shonen pieces because of its creativity, complex characters, and nuanced romances. Her woman and girl characters are never accessories to the guy hero, which was often the case in early shonen stories, especially. Takahashi often likes to implement strong, independent, multi-facetted female characters in leading roles into her stories. Talk about girl power!
Now for more information as to why she's so deserving of having her own doll in my collection. :D Strap in, because this post is a doozy!
BIO: Rumiko Takahashi (born Oct. 10, 1957) is the best-selling female comic artist of all time, selling more than 170 million copies of her work in Japan alone, and one of the names by which to reckon the evolution of anime. She is one of the wealthiest women in Japan, all of her longer running manga have become TV series, and nearly everything she has written has been adapted into animation (OVA or TV). Perhaps more importantly, her influence and the nature of her series since 1980 have been cited as large contributors to the perception and acceptance of anime as a medium today.
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Rumiko with her new Colors book. Outfit inspired by the one she wore when receiving her knighthood.
All of Takahashi’s work has become popular throughout the world, and with more than 20 years of publishing her manga art, she earned the title of The Princess of Manga.
Takahashi's professional career began in 1978 when she was a university student. That year, she worked on her first full-length series entitled Urusei Yatsura. It became one of the most loved manga and anime comedies in Japan. In 1980, when she began to publish regularly, she began her second major series, Maison Ikkoku. This series is now considered to be one of the all-time best manga romances.
As her stories appeared and attracted many fans, Takahashi grew in popularity as an artist while improving her writing and artistic abilities. In 1987, a huge year for her career success, three of her most well-known stories ended and she began work on Ranma ½. The series continued for nearly a decade until 1996, when it ended at 38 volumes. Ranma ½ and its anime adaptation are cited as some of the first of their mediums to have become popular in the United States. While publishing Ranma ½, Takahashi was hospitalized several times for peritonitis. But even during her second hospital stay, the series did not stop.
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35th anniversary book has removable sketches - real photos actually drawn by the artist. The background is an actual photo of her basement (note all her figures!)
During the latter half of the 1990s, Takahashi began her fourth major work, Inuyasha. With this series, Takahashi is also often said to be the first woman to successfully set foot in the Shōnen genre and leave a lasting impact on it. To date, Inuyasha is her longest-running series, ending in 2008. In 2020, it received a sequel series titled Yashahime: Princess Half Demon.
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In the basement library (actually in her home) with the first volume of the Inuyasha manga.
On July 30, 2008, Takahashi noted her 30th anniversary as a mangaka, and on July 8, 2009, during Shonen Sunday's 50th anniversary celebration, characters from three of her most popular series (Urusei Yatsura, Ranma ½, and Inuyasha) joined together in a short crossover to welcome everyone to the celebratory milestone. That same year, VIZ Media, one of the entertainment industry’s most innovative and comprehensive publishing, animation and licensing companies, announced the launch of a brand new imprint, Shonen Sunday, featuring the works of some of the top shonen manga creators in the world today. Takahashi's series RIN-NE was the first to be featured in the new imprint, and was the first manga novel ever to be published simultaneously in Japan and North America.
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In her studio showing off genuine sketches. Featured here: Featured here: Lum from Urusei Yatsura, the Tendo house from Ranma 1/2, and Inuyasha character heights. This outfit is inspired by the one she wore at the Rumic World 30th anniversary ribbon-cutting.
Early in her career, Takahashi expressed that though she doesn't write love stories often, she loves a good love story. While none of her works are straightforward romances, many of her works early and later on have compelling romance subplots that are integral to the characters and world. Her works like Inuyasha and Ranma 1/2 are known for their romances. Takahashi's romances are varied, and they are trendsetting. They set the standard for popular romance tropes like slow-burn romances and love triangles. The love triangle between Kagome, Kikyo, and Inuyasha is one of the most iconic in all anime.
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In her studio showing off genuine sketches. Featured here: Ranma from Ranma 1/2, Lum from Urusei Yatsura, and Mao and Kiba from Mao.
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In her studio showing off genuine sketches. Featured here: Yashahime, Inuyasha 20th anniversary, and Inuyasha, Kagome, and Moroha.
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Outfit inspired by the one worn during the Rumic World 30th anniversary ribbon cutting.
HONORS: * Takahashi won the New Comic Artist Award in 1978. * Winner of the 1994 Inkpot Award at The San Diego Comic Con in America. *In 2016, ComicsAlliance listed Takahashi as one of 12 women cartoonists deserving of lifetime achievement recognition, stating that "any one of her projects would be the career highlight of another talent." In 2017, Takahashi was inducted into the Science Fiction and Fantasy Hall of Fame as part of the 2016 class. *In July 2018, Takahashi was inducted into the Eisner Hall of Fame. She was previously nominated for entry in 2014, 2016 and 2017. *In January 2019, Takahashi won the grand prize at the prestigious Angouleme International Comics Festival in France, becoming the second woman and second Japanese manga artist to win the award at the festival. * In 2020, Takahashi was awarded Japan's Medal with Purple Ribbon. First awarded in 1955, this honor is awarded to individuals who have contributed to academic and artistic developments, improvements, and accomplishments. * Takahashi was inducted into the Harvey Awards Hall of Fame in October 2021. The Harvey Awards are one of the comic industry's oldest and most prestigious awards. Recognizing outstanding achievement in multiple categories, the Harvey's have been a fixture of the comic industry since 1988. * In April 2023, Takahashi was conferred the Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (Order of Arts and Letters) by the French government. She is the first female mangaka to receive this honor.
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Books: 35th anniversary (with removable genuine sketches inside), Colors: 1978-2024, and volume 1 of the Inuyasha manga.
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Genuine sketches, all fit inside the 35th anniversary book.
Source photos (first is from being bestowed a Knight of the Order of Arts and Letters, second is from the Rumic World 30th anniversary ribbon cutting in 2008):
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