#I know some people have horrible parents who were shit to them
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You will watch them wither, you will watch them grow sick, frail, old.
But by god you will BE THERE. They will not be alone through the most painful and depressing stage of their life. They will not be abandoned in their sickness as their bodies fail them, wondering why you haven’t come back, why you hardly ever call.
They loved you when no one else would, they still love you. Don’t leave them.
#Parents#i love them#I love mine#I wish they wouldn’t die#I think I’ve been too stressed out#Why am I crying#I know some people have horrible parents who were shit to them#So by all means if yours were terrible disregard my post#But I love mine so so much and I think I’m going to kill myself shortly after the last one dies#It just sounds a lot better than keeping on without them#my post
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can we also talk about how without fail all of these arguments are almost always weaponized against minority creators representing themselves in their media. It does not escape me that every time the internet bandwagons on hating something and calling the writing and art direction bad, the creator is a queer person writing queer characters, a woman writing for other women and girls, a poc writing for other poc, or a combination of the three. Everyone acts like that's not the "REAL reason" they hate that piece of media, but after the 50th time, I think we can all see right through it. When I see someone jumping onto a hate bandwagon, I always want to ask.. Did you even watch/play/read it? Or did you just listen to someone else's opinions on it and make them your own? If you did experience the media yourself, did you go into it having already formed a bad opinion of it? In getting involved with the online discourse around it, did you listen to ANY positive opinions on it, or do you just block out/send hate to anyone who enjoys it because it makes you feel morally superior? Think about it. Seriously, whoever's reading this, go reflect on that. Think about the piece of media YOU specifically don't like and ask yourself these questions. Dig into it.
You want more minority representation in media but if they have flaws its problematic and if theyre perfect theyre a patronizing mary sue. If they crack under the pressure of the conflict the author thinks that minority is weak and if they overcome the adversity they must be a neoliberal bootlicker who thinks real world bigotry is a matter of personal attitude. You want minority characters but if theyre a villain its violently problematic and if theyre the protagonist then we circle back to the very first sentence. If theyre a side character theyre being sidelined and the author is once again bigoted, and don't you know that every single minority character death is unilaterally bigoted, without exception? You want more minority characters but if their identity is a big part of their personality or struggles then they're problematic and if their identity has nothing to do with their personality or struggles then the author is tokenizing that identity for clout. You want more minority characters but every time theres a minority character who doesnt have every single experience that you have then you tell the author to kill themselves on twitter. You wonder why not even minority authors will write minority characters.
I would ask you to read Catch-22, but you'd just call the military base problematic.
#I have steven universe in mind right now in particular but it applies to so many other things#(tw suicide) I lost all empathy for the people who rabidly hate on certain pieces of media just bc some reviewer or twt user said it was ba#after I found out that people were leaving hate comments and saying horrible things on a video about someone who played omori#a really heartfelt and beautiful game about grief and loss and mental illness#to connect with their child who was a fan of it after they lost them to suicide.#saying terrible things just because they didn't like omocat (the creator; ONE of many people who worked on the game)#for some questionable shit she said/did 11 years ago. like. yall.#I think sending hate mail and death threats to a grieving parent is a lot worse than some internet weeb making 'jokes' in poor taste in 201#you don't get to play moral superiority after that#you don't get to justify that#and I know the same has happened across fandoms and other spaces.#I wonder if the people who make these long video rants and influence the popular opinion of a piece of media in a negative way like this#realize the damage they're doing#or if they're fully aware and just enjoy it#I can't give it the benefit of the doubt anymore
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so this post is definitely about me lol & i just wanna say that
me only having mental illness is a really big assumption
the experiences i talked about were my own & some friends i'd had while going to an alternate school, they weren't secondhand or made up
idk what is wrong with this person but they are super fucking ableist, & going through their blog, it's clear they love to accuse everyone of faking being disabled or needing accommodation for some reason & are obsessed with interacting in bad faith.
just gonna assume they're constantly having a really bad day every day but man if you're gonna make multiple blogs dedicated to speaking about disabled issues, maybe don't alienate a majority of the community & accuse them of not being "disabled enough" for you to fucking listen to them
#i think when your advocating of one specific group turns into putting down everyone else .you've failed#if you want to be a voice for a community you have to be able to speak coherently about a subject without getting aggressive#& picking fights with anyone who even breathes in your direction#which this person seems to love to do btw holy shit they are super fucked#anyways was just reminded of this dipshit. this screenshot & some other shit they said (like accusing me of thinking disabled ppl are gross#was in response to me saying addiction is a disability & they flipped the fuck out about that#my point was that you can't cater to every single disability all at once. there is going to be some conflict & you have to problem solve#like imagine a person who's super cold & another who's super hot#the person who's cold can keep putting on more layers but the person who's hot can't. so the cold person is gonna have to compromise#& turn the heat down & just put on a jacket or something#OP said that taking medication in public should be normalized & (while that is hyperspecific region-wise) that is true#but also you need to work with other disabled people (like addicts) when making things accessible#because an accessibility option might be great for one person & horrible for another#because when i was at that alt school there were a bunch of kids who were recovering addicts or parents were#& so i was asked to take my medication away from them & i did. because i'm not a fucking asshole#it would be cool if you could take your meds whenever wherever but that just isn't realistic#if you can help someone with trauma or an addiction without negatively impacting yourself then why not#like why would you force someone else to suffer just because you're personally angry about an imaginary slight#if you can't leave or leaving would fuck things up then let them know you take your meds at that time so they can leave beforehand#or if it's an emergency then just fucking take the meds & the other guy can decide what to do with themself#like there is a nuance here that the OP refuses to acknowledge because they don't actually care about disabled people#they only care about themself#like cool advocating. still ableism#anyways if you got this far for blocking reasons the user is disbabeled
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Does Blitz blame himself for Cash's abuse?
Stick with me, and I'm truly sorry.
All of the people except Cash featured in the memories Rolando shows Blitz are people who Blitz has cared deeply for and felt like he hurt, failed to get close to, or let down.
Let's look at them (again, yes)
Tilla
Fizz
Verosika
Loona
M&M
Barbie
A whole lot of Stolas
So. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Is Cash Fucking Buckzo. Doing in this line-up?
Well. Hurting Blitz, horribly. My first meta on this scene didn't really capture this, but as many have pointed out, this is Cash grabbing Blitz's freshly burned wrist after the fire and smacking the ever living shit out the burned side of his face. Presumably blaming him for the fire and everything (and everyone) lost from it. And then Cash telling Blitz in the hospital that Fizz doesn't want to see him.
It's emphasized too. Right after we see the memory of Cash hitting Blitz, we see Blitz physically flinch while watching it.
So if this is just a compilation of horrible memories, maybe that's all there is to it.
But if it's a grouping of the people Blitz cares for, well . . . it makes sense for it to be that, doesn't it? Blitz has a lot of love in him, and yet he's scared of intimacy. His trauma is ABOUT hurting people, losing people, driving people away, craving closeness that he can't have . . .
Being an abuse victim is complicated. Being a family scapegoat is complicated too. A lot of abusers try to make the victim think that they're ACTUALLY the cause of their pain and everyone else's, and we already know that Cash did this to Blitz (literally in this same set of memories in the hospital).
But we also saw it in The Circus when Blitz was much younger, and saw how much this tactic got to Blitz.
Cash guilts his son into going into a dangerous situation for him. If Blitz doesn't do this, their lack of resources, the possible suffering of his parents . . . it will all be Blitz's fault.
And Blitz cares deeply (he always has!), so he does it.
Now one might argue that Blitz says "of course I want to help Mama" here and leaves Cash out of his reply, so he doesn't love his father. But reality is often more complicated than that. He's upset here that Cash is forcing this on him. Cash hurts him. His mother (seemingly) offers much more love. That doesn't mean that Blitz doesn't ALSO feel some care and responsibility for his father's wellbeing.
I think that Blitz believes (or at least a significant part of him believes) that he destroyed Cash's life too with the fire, and that he deserved that beating and being turned away from the hospital and possibly many of the beatings and beratings that Cash delivered in the past. I think that in the moment when Cash grabbed him, he felt that he fully deserved the agony he felt when Cash held his wrist.
I think a part of him loved his father growing up and still loves him-- that there were moments between the incidents of cruelty where they had fun together as a family, and where looked up to his dad and wanted desperately to win his approval.
I think that Blitz has a lot of anger toward Cash too, and that a part of him always knew that Cash was wrong to hurt him. He had a whole lot of resilience and defiance in him even as a young kid.
I think that he felt guilty for all of the times he felt angry at his father. I think he might still.
I'm off to cry and then grab my pitchfork and storm wherever Cash is living nowadays. Who's with me?
#my personal trauma didn't inform this at all nooooooo of course not what are you talking about#Clawing at the walls#blitzo buckzo#blitz#blitzo#cash buckzo#helluva boss#my helluva meta#helluva boss analysis#ghostfuckers#ghostfuckers spoilers#cash fucking buckzo >:(#tw: abuse
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from the start — fushiguro megumi.
“You’re now my friend, Fushiguro–kun!” You smile at him, turning to your snack pile and handing him one. It was a panda bread, one of those he sees at the convenience stores. “Here, as a token of our friendship!” He blinked. “...It’s okay. You can keep it. I’m not hungry—” You pouted, pushing it toward his arm. “But Fushiguro-kun, these are good! If you take them, you end up making a wish that our friendship is sweet too!” “Huh? There’s no such thing as that.”
Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;
Warning/s: Alternate Universe, Romance, Fluff, Comfort/No Hurt, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Sorcerer! Reader, Mild-Tsundere! Megumi, Feelings, Romantic Confession, Getting Together, First Kiss, Making Out, Light-Hearted, Humor, Protectiveness, Happy Ending;
Words: 5k words.
masterlist
kayu's playlist - side 800;
note: i rewrote this multiple times because i wasn't satisfied. i was going to upload this hours ago, but i ended up reading it and i was like 'shit this doesn't look as good as i would have liked' and now i finished it and i love it now. i hope you love it too!!! i love you all <3
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MEGUMI REMEMBERS THE DAY HE MET YOU. The sun was shining brightly that day. He could remember how the golden rays cast a warm, inviting glow over the middle school courtyard. Students milled about, enjoying their lunch break under the clear, blue sky. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, a vibrant tapestry of youthful exuberance.
Fushiguro Megumi doesn’t really remember when he ever partook in anything that big. Even in kindergarten, he really didn’t find himself in a big group of people, messing about. It’s something that Gojo Satoru had consistently teased him about for years. It’s not that he didn’t want to. He just didn’t know how. And if anything, it frustrates him. Because he does want to. He wants to reach out to someone and talk to them. Even just one. But he knows his reputation wouldn’t make it easy.
He was known in school to be someone who got into trouble. And it makes it even more hard, knowing that Gojo manages to make every bit of trouble and complaint go away. a flick of a finger. Even back then, whatever the trouble — Gojo Satoru would insist.
Of course, he lectures him here and there, as any pseudo–parent would. Yet he still saves him, no matter the trouble. But it’s not like Megumi wanted trouble. Somehow, it always just finds him. Because if he was being truly honest with himself, Fushiguro Megumi doesn’t like injustice. And he hates it even more when it’s done to people minding their own business.
That’s how Megumi met you. On the third day of the school year, it was a chilly afternoon. You sat on a bench, unbothered, watching the chaos unfold with a peaceful expression as you prepared to eat lunch. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, people making friends and people talking about in their freetime.
He saw you from one of the windows by the second floor. He already ate his lunch with his sister a while ago, but he wasn’t particularly hungry and her friends had come over to their spot. So, he just left to go look at the school through a window and enjoy the weather.
And then he stops at you. You were so quiet, but he could feel it. How your energy just bursts from within you. You smiled happily as your focus was fully on the carefully packed lunch box resting on your lap, filled with your favorite snacks. You seemed content with some silence, it didn’t bother you. You were just excited to eat well.
The serenity was abruptly interrupted when a sleazy boy, with a smirk that revealed a missing tooth, snatched the lunch box from your hands. Megumi always hated the kid the moment he met him too. He was a senior, but he acted like he owned the place. You would think that he would learn his lesson being knocked out by him. But he didn’t. And that annoys Megumi. Because he could continue to do horrible things. Like now. That sleazy boy’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he darted away, leaving you momentarily stunned.
You quickly stood up and shouted, your voice slightly trembling, "Hey! Give that back!"
Megumi didn’t know how fast reacted. Jumping from out the window and into the scene, it would have taken someone much longer. But he took no time at all. That sleazy boy can feel it. Fushiguro Megumi, famed for his deeply sharp gaze. He approached the boy with the stolen lunch box and effortlessly blocked his path.
"Hand it over, scum." he said, his voice calm but commanding, leaving no room for negotiation. “Or do you want a repeat of what happened last time, huh?”
The elder boy hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation, and glanced between him and you before reluctantly dropping the lunch box at his feet and muttering under his breath as he slinked away.
He picked up the lunch box and walked over to you, offering it back to you. “Here you go. It didn’t drop, you know….the food.”
You took the lunch box, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. I didn’t really know what to do.”
He shrugged, his expression easy and relaxed. “No problem. I’m glad I could help.”
You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you introduced yourself. “I really wasn’t expecting that. Thanks for the save. Hey, hey! What’s your name?”
“I’m Fushiguro. Fushiguro Megumi.” he replied back. “I’m from Class 1–A.”
“Ehhhh, I didn’t see you in class!” You gasped. “We’re classmates!”
Megumi thinks he would have noticed if you were his classmate. But then again, he did get bored and slacked about the other day. It’s quite possible that he didn’t just notice you. He shrugged and nodded at you.
“I guess we are.”
“You’re now my friend, Fushiguro–kun!” You smile at him, turning to your snack pile and handing him one. It was a panda bread, one of those he sees at the convenience stores. “Here, as a token of our friendship!”
He blinked. “...It’s okay. You can keep it. I’m not hungry—”
You pouted, pushing it toward his arm. “But Fushiguro-kun, these are good! If you take them, you end up making a wish that our friendship is sweet too!”
“Huh? There’s no such thing as that.”
“But that’s my wish.” He doesn’t know how your pout got deeper. But it suited you. “Please, just take it.”
He really doesn’t know what to say. He could feel his palm embalmed with sweat. If he doesn’t take it, you might pester him even more. And if that happens, he wouldn’t be able to leave because you’ll continue to ask him to take the panda bread. He could feel heat rising in him. He could feel it even in his ears.
“Alright, fine. Megumi relented, taking the panda bread from your hand. The soft packaging crinkled as he reluctantly accepted the snack, feeling the eyes of several classmates on him. It was strange, this sudden attention, but there was something about your insistence that he couldn’t quite ignore.
You beamed, satisfaction lighting up your face as if you’d achieved a small victory. “Yay! Now we’re officially friends!”
Megumi glanced at the panda bread, his expression softening despite himself. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you just this once. It’s not like its going to be something that happens on a daily basis. Anything to get you off his back.
“Thanks….I guess.” he mumbled, unwrapping the bread and taking a small bite. The sweetness of the filling surprised him. It’s good, not too sweet. He thinks it's great and he finds himself nodding in approval.
“See?” you said, watching him intently. “Isn’t it good?”
“It’s... not bad.” Megumi admitted, trying to maintain a semblance of nonchalance. But he could feel the corners of his mouth twitching upward, a sign that perhaps your enthusiasm was contagious.
“Let’s make a deal then, Fushiguro–kun!” you proposed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Every time we hang out, I’ll bring you a new snack to try, and you can tell me if it’s good or not. Deal?”
Megumi considered your offer, weighing the potential for more unsolicited treats against the undeniable warmth in your smile. It was hard to say no to that sort of smile. It reminds him of Tsumiki somehow. It’s….it’s pure.
“....Fine.” he agreed finally, unable to resist the sense of camaraderie forming between you.
And just like that, Fushiguro Megumi found himself drawn into your world, a place where small gestures held deeper meanings, and new friendships could be sealed with a simple piece of panda bread. And somehow, when he walked away from you as you waved him away, he was afraid to admit it then. But, he wanted more.
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IN A BLINK OF AN EYE, YOU WERE IN MEGUMI’S LIFE COMPLETELY. He really didn’t expect that to be the cas. But all these lunch hours turned into days together in the classroom and turned into weeks in the abandoned classroom, and as always, your new tradition took root. It was now his normal. You were now his normal. And he couldn’t say it was a bad thing.
Every day, without fail, you would meet up. It didn’t have to be at lunchtime anymore. For a while, he didn’t know why he’d make time, but his body had gotten so used to needing to find you, to meet up. He thought you’d bother him again, and you were good at finding him.
When you did, you’d present Megumi with a new snack, each more interesting than the last. Sometimes it was a sweet treat, sometimes savory, but always chosen with care and a mischievous glint in your eye as you awaited his reaction.
As time went on the awkwardness slowly dwindled. He felt like he was finally starting to get used to your presence in his life. You are his constant now, his routine, his day to day. Slowly but little, Megumi found himself looking forward to these small exchanges.
At first, he couldn’t understand why. It was just a simple gesture, after all. But there was something about the way you offered him each snack, the way your eyes lit up with anticipation, that made him feel...special. It was as if you saw something in him worth noticing, something he hadn’t seen in himself.
One afternoon, as the two of you sat under a large cherry blossom tree in the school courtyard, you handed him a small box wrapped in a colorful cloth. “Today’s snack is special, Megu–chan!” you said, your voice full of excitement. “I made it myself!”
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He doesn’t mind you calling him that. “Really? You cooked this?”
You nodded, a hint of nervousness creeping into your smile. “I hope you like it.”
Megumi carefully unwrapped the cloth, revealing a neatly packed bento box filled with an assortment of foods. It was….it was cute. It was a dog chara–bento.His shikigami dogs. You saw his shikigami before. Very well, and he could only surmise that you were just like him. But he hadn’t asked. And he wasn’t going to do that now.
His eyes widened in surprise. “You made all of this?”
“Yep! Go on, try it, Megu–chan!” you urged, watching him intently. “I made it all for you.”
He picked up a piece of tamagoyaki with his chopsticks, examining it before taking a bite. The sweet, fluffy texture melted in his mouth, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, appreciative hum. “This is really good, you know?” he admitted, looking at you with genuine admiration.
Your face lit up with a radiant smile. “I’m glad! I was a bit worried it wouldn’t turn out well. I really…I really tried to do well. I didn’t know your taste in bento that well yet, so I was nervous!”
Megumi shook his head, taking another bite. “You’re talented. This is better than most of the things I’ve tried from the other places. Don’t worry. You…you did great.”
The compliment seemed to fluster you, and you ducked your head, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “Thanks, Megumi–chan! It means a lot coming from you.”
At that moment, Fushiguro Megumi thinks he felt a strange warmth spread through his chest. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that left him slightly off-balance but not unpleasantly so. He realized he was beginning to look forward to these moments not just because of the snacks, but because of you. The easy way you talked, the kindness in your eyes, and the genuine interest you showed in him—it all made him feel like he was part of something special.
He thinks nothing of it.
He really thinks it's nothing.
He could feel his heart thump.
“Shit.” He whispers as he went home that day. “Is this….Is this something?”
He couldn’t sleep much that night, and laid in bed, thinking about you. As the days went by, Megumi found himself seeking out your company even outside of your snack-sharing ritual. You’d come over to his house now to study together, share stories about your day, and laugh over silly jokes that only the two of you found funny.
Gojo was good at teasing him about it, Tsumiki too but she gave you space. Still….he’d endure the teasing. He liked you—well, he liked having you around. He liked how comfortable he was with you. Even if he doesn’t speak most of the time. You were fine with that. Megumi thinks he was lucky. It was easy, being with you, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease around someone.
But with that ease came something else, something deeper and more complex that Megumi wasn’t sure he knew how to handle. He caught himself thinking about you at odd times—during class, while training. Gojo had managed to corner him in training badly and had to ask him if he was okay.
Megumi thought he was being subtle but even when he was supposed to be focused on other things. He wondered if you thought about him, too, if you felt that same inexplicable pull he did. He wished you did. He wished that you thought about him as much as he did with you. Maybe then…maybe, he’d be able to sleep at night. And dream of you.
It was during one of your afternoons together after club activities. The birds were singing, the air was clear, the sky was as blue as it could be. You hummed a song as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was reading the book aloud. You said you liked his voice and….no was hard to say. To you, especially. So, he just did as you asked.
But now he was tired and he thought that laying on the grass was comfortable. But you furrowed your brows like you always do, so cutely —and pulled his head on your lap and pouted. You said you make comfort more than the grass did.
Megumi was lucky that his face wasn’t facing you. You would have noticed it. How red his face is. But you were too focused on the clouds. So, that he was glad about. As you both lay on the grass watching the clouds drift by, Fushiguro Megumi found himself on the verge of admitting something he wasn’t quite ready to face.
“Hey, Megumi?” you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “You hear me? Are you awake?”
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m really glad we became friends, you know?” you confessed, turning your head to look at him. “You make school a lot more fun. Actually….You make everything fun. You’re my bestest friend. And you just….I’m so lucky to be with you.”
He met your gaze with his blue–green gaze, feeling a rush of warmth at your words. “I’m glad too….” he replied, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re...important to me.”
The sincerity in his voice seemed to surprise you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Megumi was often blunt with his words. And at times, it's hard for people to understand him. But there were times he preferred to keep things to himself.
He couldn’t vocalize it well yet. But at this moment, you think you were waiting for it for a while. And you finally have it. The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this garden of eden.
As you smiled at him, Fushiguro Megumi felt a strange flutter in his chest, a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His chest was throbbing, over and over. He pursed his lips into a tight line, looking at you as you stared into the sky again.
He realized then that he didn’t just want to be your friend. Not anymore. He didn’t want that name anymore. He wanted to be something more, something….something beyond that. He wanted to say it, to make it real to you. To him. But nothing came out.
‘Not yet, Megumi.’ He thinks to himself. ‘Not the time.’
This was enough. For now, this is what he has. Friends. That’s better than nothing. He’d have to hear you talk about some other guy for now. He’d have to deal with your tears when this guy hurts you. He’d have to deal with being just your friend.
Your best friend. He can do it. He’s content. He can wait. This was more than he’d been able to ask for. He was content to be by your side, to bask in the warmth of your presence and enjoy the sweet moments you shared.
Because even if he couldn’t quite find the words to express how he felt, he knew that with you, he’d found something truly special. And that was enough. At least, for now. But one day. He knew that one day he’ll find his voice. His words will make their way to you. They will. Because he….he loved you. And love? It should always make way. It will always know how to lead him there to you.
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HE NEVER THOUGHT THAT YOU WOULD JOIN HIM HERE IN TOKYO. But you were a sorcerer and you were needing training too — so you joined him. He knew from the beginning that you might be recruited by some of the other sister schools.
You after all had potential and the other sister schools would love that in their ranks. In fact, he found out later that your parents were Fukuoka alumni. They were retired sorcerers, who retired for wanting to enjoy watching you grow up. They wanted for you to attend their sorcerer school too.
But you thought it would be better for you to join him in Tokyo. You knew that being together would make it easier. You were friends, meaning you wouldn’t have a harder situation. You’d have Megumi, as you always had.
And Gojo-sensei, as Megumi calls him now, was good at charming your parents. That had been a surprise to you, but it seems the Gojo charm was something that could not be stopped. And that settled everything. You were going to go to Tokyo with him.
Though, he couldn’t help it but he worries about you. He knew you were perfectly capable of taking good care of yourself. He’d seen you stand your ground against Maki-senpai. But being a Jujutsu Sorcerer, there was no guarantee that you’d live another day against curses.
It terrified him to think that he would lose you, that he’d end up without you at all. He…he was close to losing Tsumiki already. And it pained him to think he would be unable to protect you. To think that you wouldn't come home after a mission.
Like always, Megumi didn’t think he’d be able to voice it out loud. He was scared of what you would think. What if you got angry at him for thinking you weren't enough? What if you thought he was belittling you?
He didn’t want it to come across badly. And he was already bad at explaining things. He sighed as his thoughts became heavy. It must have been the exhaustion from training. Yeah, he was overthinking it all. He could tell you well. You’d understand what he was saying.
Still, the nagging worry persisted, and he realized he couldn’t keep these feelings bottled up forever. Every day he spent with you, Fushiguro Megumi felt his heart swell with emotions he couldn’t quite articulate.
It was becoming harder to ignore the way his thoughts wandered to you during missions, how his heart skipped a beat when you smiled at him, and how the mere thought of losing you was unbearable. If he didn’t say something soon, he might explode, and that would be both messy and embarrassing.
So, he decided that today was the day he would finally confess. He had to. There was no going back on this. He was in love with you from the start. He knew that. Backing out now….he’d just suffer. And so his free day was spent thinking about you and lamenting about you.
He spent the morning overthinking every possible outcome, mentally rehearsing what he would say. He had even considered writing down his feelings, but each attempt ended up crumpled in the wastebasket. He was at one point close to breaking his mirror. But he realized that would make him worry more because of bad luck. So he stopped.
The entire day had passed, and Megumi still hadn’t managed to confess his feelings. He’d woken up with every intention of telling you how he felt, but each opportunity slipped through his fingers like sand.
In the cafeteria during breakfast, he’d seen you sitting at your usual spot, animatedly discussing the latest manga you were reading. Megumi had slid into the seat across from you, silently willing himself to say something—anything. Instead, he sat there, listening to you talk about what you were excited about today, nodding along as you spoke.
“...and then I found out there’s going to be a new chapter released next week!” you said, your eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Can you believe it, Megumi? I’ve been waiting for this arc for months!”
Megumi forced a smile, trying to focus on your words instead of the nervous energy buzzing inside him. “That’s great.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad you’re excited.”
You raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “You okay? You seem a little...distracted.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, avoiding your gaze. “Just thinking......about some stuff.”
You accepted his answer, but he could tell you weren’t entirely convinced. You always knew what he looked like when he’s lying. But you let him do it. You don’t think that you should pry. He will open up eventually. He will tell you what’s wrong when he's ready. He always has.
Later, as the two of you went for a walk around the school grounds, Megumi tried to muster up the courage to finally speak his mind. The sun was high in the sky, casting dappled shadows through the trees as you strolled along the path. You walked close enough that your shoulders occasionally brushed, sending a thrill through Megumi each time.
“This weather is perfect these days, you know!” you remarked, tilting your head back to gaze at the sky. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over everything it touched. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, filling the air with the fresh scent of summer. “It’s days like this that make everything feel...right, you know?”
Megumi nodded, silently agreeing as he walked beside you. He couldn’t help but notice how the sunlight highlighted the contours of your face, making you look almost ethereal. Your hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, and he found himself mesmerized by the simple beauty of the moment.
The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, your footsteps in sync as you meandered through the school grounds. The path was lined with vibrant flowers, their petals swaying gently in the breeze, adding a splash of color to the serene scene. It was a perfect setting, and Megumi knew it was the right time to speak his heart.
He could feel the words forming in his throat, the weight of them pressing against his chest. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, doubt crept in and silenced him. What if he messed up? What if he said the wrong thing and ruined everything?
He glanced at you, searching for a sign, anything that might give him the courage to speak. Your expression was peaceful, content, as you took in the beauty around you. It was moments like these that reminded him of why he’d fallen for you in the first place.
He took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs. His heart was pounding, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to echo in his ears. Megumi knew he couldn’t let this chance slip away, not again.
“You know….” he began hesitantly, trying to sound casual despite the nerves bubbling inside him, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”
You turned your gaze to him, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Oh? About what?”
Megumi hesitated, momentarily losing his nerve. His mind raced through all the possible ways to say what he needed to. Finally, he forced himself to speak, his voice quiet but determined. He looked at you. Your eyes were the clearest he had ever seen. It took his breath away for a moment. You pat him. He forgot how to breathe.
As you walked side by side, Megumi found himself growing increasingly tense, his nerves threatening to overwhelm him. He had been working up the courage to tell you how he felt, but now that the moment was here, his heart was racing so fast that he almost forgot to breathe.
“Are you okay?” you asked suddenly, glancing at him with concern. “You haven’t breathed in a while!”
“It’s... alright. I just forgot,” he replied, trying to sound more relaxed than he felt.
You snickered, giving him a playful nudge. “What do you mean you forgot how to breathe?”
He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Like what?”
Megumi took a deep breath, feeling the cool air steady his racing thoughts. This was it—the moment he’d been waiting for all day. He couldn’t let his nerves get the best of him now.
“About us. About how much I enjoy being around you,” he said, his words tumbling out more awkwardly than he’d hoped. “I mean, we’ve been through a lot together, and...well, I really like having you in my life.”
Your expression softened, and Megumi could see the understanding in your eyes as he continued to speak. His heart was pounding, but with every word, he felt a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
You paused, processing his words, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. But then you smiled, a soft, genuine smile that eased his fears. His ears were red. He seemed embarrassed. And nervous. He looked so cute.
“I like being around you too, Megumi.” you replied warmly, your eyes shining with sincerity. “You’re one of my closest friends. You know that. You’re my best friend.”
Megumi’s heart sank slightly at the mention of friendship, like a souffle collapsing in the oven. He could almost hear the sad trombone playing in the background. This was his one shot to get this right, and he knew he had to be clear.
“Yeah, but I mean...I like you as more than just a friend.” he blurted out, his words coming out in a rush like a nervous racehorse out of the gate. He blinks. Oh. He just said it out loud.
You blinked, surprise flickering across your features. “Huh?”
“I...I like you,” Megumi repeated, his voice cracking slightly, sounding like he was a teenager going through puberty all over again.
“You do?” you asked, your eyes widening in disbelief, as if he’d just revealed he was secretly a wizard from another dimension. “Wait, what?!”
He nodded, feeling the weight of his confession lift from his shoulders, though it left behind a trail of awkwardness. He rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to find the right words. “Yeah... I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I was afraid I’d mess things up between us. Because we’re friends, and I didn’t want to—”
Before he could finish his rambling explanation, you leaned in and planted a quick, unexpected kiss on his lips. The suddenness of it left him momentarily speechless, his blue–green eyes wide and blinking rapidly, like a startled owl. You turned, hiding your face in your hands. It was too red all over for you to even reveal. Megumi didn’t know what happened. You….you kissed him? You did it first? What happened?
“Nghh—” Megumi exclaimed, his brain short-circuiting for a moment. “That was... I mean, not that I didn’t want that, but... uh, wow.”
Finally recovered — you looked at him and still clearly amused by his flustered reaction. “I figured…… I’d shut you up before you started overthinking everything. You know, like you always do.”
He huffed, trying to regain his composure. “I don’t overthink that much.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “So, does this mean we’re a thing now? Do I get to call you my boyfriend?”
Megumi hesitated, his usual stoic demeanor struggling to catch up with the situation. “I guess so. If you want to. But only if I can call you my partner.”
“Deal!” you replied with a cheeky grin. “Though I have to say, you’re not as smooth as I imagined.”
He sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “Well, sorry I’m not a charming prince. But at least I’m honest.”
“True, and that’s why I like you.” you said, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the moment. “From the start, you know?”
Megumi’s heart did a little flip as your lips met his, a sudden rush of warmth spreading through his chest. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing a flood of emotions he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. He couldn’t help but smile against your lips, feeling a mixture of relief and happiness.
For a moment, the world around him faded away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble. The tension that had been building inside him all day melted away like snow under the sun, replaced by a sense of lightness and joy he hadn’t known he needed.
His mind, usually a constant whirl of thoughts and calculations, was blissfully quiet, focused entirely on the simple yet profound sensation of your closeness. He could feel the gentle pressure of your hand on his shoulder, grounding him in the moment.
As the kiss lingered, he became acutely aware of the details—the softness of your lips, the way you seemed to smile against him, the faint scent of your shampoo carried on the breeze. It was an odd mixture of overwhelming and comforting, as if the universe had aligned just for this perfect moment.
When you finally pulled back, he found himself at a loss for words, his usual stoic demeanor nowhere to be found. Instead, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.
The look on your face—affectionate and a little amused—told him everything he needed to know. Any lingering doubts he had vanished, replaced by a newfound confidence in the bond you shared.
As the two of you broke apart, you chuckled, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Easier than fighting a cursed spirit,” Megumi admitted, his voice tinged with relief as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a rare, genuine smile. The normally stoic expression he wore was softened by a warmth he could no longer hide.
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering between yours with a mix of shyness and longing. “Can I…,” he began, but the rest of his sentence faltered as if the very thought of what he wanted was almost too overwhelming to put into words.
Before he could finish, you took the initiative, a playful sparkle in your eyes. You stepped closer, closing the small gap between you with a confident, yet tender, movement. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gently guiding him as you leaned in.
Your lips brushed against his in a kiss that was both reassuring and electrifying. It was a kiss that seemed to capture all the unspoken emotions and the depth of what you both felt. The sensation was soft yet intense, a slow dance of warmth and intimacy that seemed to make time stand still.
As you deepened the kiss, Megumi’s initial nervousness melted away completely. His hands instinctively cupped your face, his fingers feeling the gentle curve of your jaw, as if he was afraid to let go and have this perfect moment slip away. The kiss was tender and full of the promise of something more, a shared connection that felt as solid as it was fleeting.
When you finally pulled back, your lips lingered just a breath away from his, the faintest smile playing on your face. Megumi’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a look of awe and contentment. His cheeks were flushed, and there was an unmistakable softness in his gaze.
“You were saying?” you teased gently, your voice a soothing murmur.
Megumi smiled, still feeling the echoes of the kiss on his lips. “I was saying,” he replied, his tone now brimming with a newfound confidence, “that I definitely want more of this.”
You laughed softly, leaning in to give him another quick, light kiss before resting your forehead against his. “So do I.” you whispered, the warmth of your breath mingling with his.
With that, you both pulled back slightly, but your hands remained entwined. The world around you felt like it had shifted into a perfect harmony, where every little detail seemed to fall into place. You finally felt like you finally belonged where you are, in his arms, from the start.
┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓
epilogue
The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the campus as you and Megumi continued your walk, your hands linked together in a comfortable, affectionate hold. You were enjoying the tranquility of the moment, the weight of the day’s earlier tensions now replaced with a sense of ease.
As you reached a secluded spot near the edge of the campus, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. Megumi leaned in, his gaze soft as he captured your lips in another gentle kiss, savoring the newfound closeness you both had discovered. The kiss was tender and unhurried, a shared promise of more to come, until—
“Hey, lovebirds! Time’s up!”
The sudden intrusion of Gojo Satoru’s voice startled both of you. You pulled away, cheeks flushed, to see Gojo Satoru standing a few paces away with his trademark blindfold, that ridiculously dashing wide grin and a mockingly exaggerated pout.
“Having a moment?" With that, Gojo turned on his heel, his laughter echoing as he walked away, leaving you and Megumi standing there with a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. Megumi lowered his head, muttering. You think he’s about to conduct a curse against Gojo Satoru.
Megumi’s eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly stepped back, trying to regain his composure. His face was a deep shade of red, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly caught off guard.
“Gojo-sensei, what—” he mumbled, clearly flustered. “We were just—”
You turned to Megumi, who was still trying to compose himself, and said with a smirk, “Well, I guess our moment’s been officially interrupted.”
Megumi sighed, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Yeah, thanks to Gojo-sensei. But... I guess it’s kind of funny.”
You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It is. And at least we know we have his approval.”
“We don’t need it.”
“He’s….he’s your dad, isn’t he?”
“Hgh— no he’s not!”
“But—”
“No, he’s not!”
“Ah, they’re arguing. Their first couple argument!” Gojo Satoru says, still laughing. “True love!”
“Shut up, Gojo–sensei!”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x plus size reader#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#megumi#jjk megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x you#megumi x y/n#megumi x reader#megumi x you#kayu writes ! ! !
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I've been thinking about Mollymauk, as I'm periodically wont to do, and the fandom discussion about him as a moral compass. Because the interesting thing here is, Molly wasn’t a very moral character. He was an unrepentant scammer. He had no respect for interpersonal boundaries and would deliberately push and break them. Generally, he was an asshole. As far as actually having a strong moral stance I would say Fjord was the standout of early m9, and to some extent Beau.
But here’s the thing: almost all of early m9 thought of themselves as horrible people. Fjord had been bullied so bad growing up that he still dealt with self-hate from it, and now suffered from survivor's guilt to boot. Caleb had killed his own parents. Beau, while she hated her dad, also had internalized self-hate and on some level thought she’d been such a shitty daughter she deserved his treatment. Nott was stuck in a body she considered monstrous. Yasha had survivor's guilt and knew she’d done bad things in her blank spots. Even when they did good, they didn’t think of themselves as good. Most of them were suspicious and asocial and faced the world with the same kind of distrust they expected to be (and were experienced in being) met with. (Jester was an exception, an agent of neither good nor bad but of amoral chaos)
But Molly was different. He was outspoken about loving life and people. He wanted to spread joy, even to people he didnt know or had even met: he slipped coin into people's pockets, hid a silver in a tree just so some stranger would one day be happy to find it. He openly cared for the party early on; was one of the first to step in and help Caleb when he went catatonic in battle. Above all, Molly had rules: where everyone else would agonize over what was the right or wrong or smart thing to do, Molly loudly proclaimed we don't leave people behind, and we leave every place better than we found it.
But the thing about Molly’s rules was, they were largely a cover. While the rest of the m9 thought they were bad even as they did good, Molly thought of himself as good even as he did bad. He scammed people, but made it a good and memorable experience, therefore thinking he gave more than he took. He charmed Nott and Fjord without consent, and when confronted would claim it was to help them. Out of the group, Beau saw through this, not because she was a better person but because she was a cynic. She saw that he caused harm, just as she did, and was personally affronted that he still thought of himself as good and tried to leave people happy, whereas she deliberately left every place worse than she found it.
I see Molly as a moral compass of the group not because he was actually any more moral than them, but because they made him their template. He was joy and brightness and he died trying to save them because it was the right thing to do, and they all chose to honor him by emulating his rules more than Molly himself ever did, because to them it was more than just a cover, backed up by genuine moral thought and discussion rather than small gestures. He taught them that it was possible to be kind of a shit person and still be good, to still love yourself and others. The idealized Molly they created never existed, and finally died for good when they resurrected him in the end and were met with a stranger, who they welcomed with the same love and care they would've expected Molly to show them.
#critical role#cr2#mollymauk tealeaf#long post#i know we're all thinking about a different dead pc today but this has been on my mind for a while and i wanted to write it out#i feel like discussions of molly tend to get stuck in two camps:#either 'he was a good kind and perfect moral compass' (lol no)#or: 'he was an asshole and you're all delusional' (also no)#molly was as much of an asshole as the rest of the m9#but he thought of himself as capable of being a good person and doing good things#and that counted for something even if he backed it up with empty gestures and platitudes bc there WAS genuine care in it#and when the m9 chose to emulate it it was no longer empty#nella talks cr
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The Red King holds a Bleeding Head
A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 5.
"But about your mom, could you tell me about her? She sounds like a really nice lady." Is what you asked.
Because you couldn't help but be a little curious. This is so alien to you that the idea of Deuce loving his mother in a completely wholesome way sounds so outlandish in a world of obsessive love is so hard to comprehend that you can't help but be interested.
Deuce's eyes light up like fireworks at your question. Sure, you might be endearing yourself to him more like this, but still, your pickings on information in this world are kind of slim, so you'll take whatever you can get.
Especially considering the bad ending of this misadventure ends with you sending the rest of your life as someone’s possession.
"Y-You want to hear about her?" Deuce's eyes light up at you, wanting to talk about his mother.
"If you want to." You repeat with the same enthusiasm.
"W-well, she's amazing. She works really hard and...." Deuce's speaks enthusiastically about his mom and all the fond childhood memories he has of her. All the way back to Sam's shop to get another carton of eggs, and all the way back to Main Street. It's shockingly normal, the stories he tells about her, and it has to be one of the sweetest of things you've witnessed thus far.
Until you remember the fact that means Deuce had a relatively normal mother-son relationship, meaning his yandere behavior was caused by something else or, even worse, is intertwined in his very being.
Back on your world, usually, people who became obsessed with someone to the point of doing horrible acts to keep someone to themselves had some sort of trauma or past relationship that pushed them into doing such horrible things.
But so far, everyone that you met was moderately normal. They acted in a way that was completely normal or had some quirks that were somewhat normal in your world. Like Cater's social media addiction, for example.
If they are normal, does that mean that they, no, does that mean that everyone here was just born this way? And they just accepted this behavior was normal? There has to be something more to it, right?
You're struck with a thought as Deuce is talking. He hasn't told you about his dad yet. That's not to say that it's wrong that he doesn't have a dad. It's just for a world that romanisticises a love life and marriage that never ends even when one side of it really, really wants to, it's odd that Deuce's mom is a single mother. Did her darling pass away or something?
Well, it's a question you'd like answered. Because maybe it will answer your other question. The death of a parent is deeply traumatic for a child and can maybe a way to explain the growing madness of the world you're in. So, there is no time like the present to ask.
"Uh, hey, Deuce," you say, and he’s quiet, ready to hear whatever you have to say. You swallow roughly, you hope that this won't go wrong,"... I know that this might be a difficult topic, but....how do you feel about your dad?"
The small smile on Deuce's face sours immediately. You can see anger in his eyes, as if the very reminder of his father's existence is capable of working him up into a fury. Ok, so that was a sore subject.
You quickly backtrack, "I'm sorry if that was a sore subject-"
He shakes his head, but the silent rage that you'd seen before is back as he explains, "I never met him, and he should be grateful I never did."
Shit, were you right in thinking that Deuce's dad was a darling. Had he run away, and Deuce hated him for breaking his mother's heart!?
"You must hate him a lot, huh?" You say uneasily. Given Deuce's delinquent days, he probably would have no qualms killing his father if he got the chance.
"More than anything. After how much he hurt my mom..." he trails off, voice deep with anger.
"How does that work? I thought darlings were the powerless ones, how did he hurt your mom?" Now Deuce is the confused one, he gives you a funny look.
"Prefect, I think you're confused."
"What? But I thought-"
"_____, my mom's a darling...."
Wait, that's possible!? "B-but I thought -" You had thought that darlings basically had no say in how their lives went once in captivity. So wait, if Deuce's mom is a darling, then his dad is...."Oh. Oh! So you hate your dad because of what he did to your mom?"
When Deuce nods, you can feel a rush of relief. So a life in captivity isn't the end all of all darlings and it is possible, and more importantly legal, to escape yanderes. Thank the Seven for that one, and apologies to Deuce's mom for the misunderstanding.
Now, all you have to do is figure the escaping part out before you're saddled with a child. If things get that bad, at least.
"So, wait, how does that work? I thought darlings had to stay with their yanderes?"
Deuce shakes his head, "We're from the Queendom of Roses, and they're pretty strict about that stuff so.....wait, is it not the same in your world?"
"What? No, why?" You say almost automatically. Your world has to be the farthest thing from this one.
"It's just -" He trails off before changing his words,"I've been wondering if your world is anything like ours... But do you not have darling laws in your world?"
"Well...." How can you put this in a way that can't be misunderstood? Your world doesn't believe in whatever psychotic idea this world bases their love lives on. So how can you say it that won't make you sound like a darling.
Maybe you could be honest. Or at least, sort of.
"Well, to be honest, my world doesn't really like the whole darling thing. They think it's abusive."
Deuce looks completely flabbergasted, as if you told him something incredulous. "But that’s not true!"
"But they think it is, besides in a way I kind of get it."
Now he looks confused. "What do you mean?"
"Deuce, would you do anything that your dad did to your mom to your future darling?"
"No." He says, completely serious. "I never would."
Well, it's time to crush that idea. "But what if you did it on accident? Maybe you might think that you're protecting them or loving them, but you’re actually hurting them unintentionally.....Do you really want to risk that?"
His serious look on his face falters, and you don't let up. "B-Back in my world, all the stuff you learn about Darlings is illegal. So we're not allowed to do anything to get them no matter how much we want to. It's because everyone thought our treatment of them was too harsh, so they made it illegal."
"But that's not fair," He argues, "what about-"
You aren't going to let him talk about how bad it is for the kidnappers and abusers, maybe a change in perspective will help your argument. "It's not really fair, but I get it. I wouldn't want to be stolen from my family and be forced to love someone else. Would you?"
The look he gives you is conflicted. He's, at the very least, considering what you said.
Is there a chance?
The slightest chance that he can be persuaded out of his yandere ways? Does he care about his future darling want to even risk making her unhappy?
"Prefect?"
"Yes, Deuce?"
"If I-" His eyes avoid yours as he rephrases, "If you were my darling, would you hate me for doing that to you? Taking you away from your friends and family?"
That was- that was one hell of a hypothetical.
Did he know about your status, or is he just using you as an example? Either way...."Would you hate me if I did that to you and your mom?" You dodge the question. You were always going to dodge that question. You were no darling, no matter how much this world says otherwise.
"But pre- _____," Deuce pushes you for a response, as if he needs one to live the rest of his life, "Would you hate me?"
"I would." You say point-blank. And it's the truth. He turns away from you, not wanting to meet your eyes. Still, you're prepared to rub salt into that wound. You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. If he feels guilty, then good. Feel guilty. If he was considering it. Then now he probably won't. And he turns back to you "But you wouldn't do that to me, would you? After all, you're my friend Deuce."
He doesn't reply. Out of guilt, or contemplation. You don't care. And if it fixes him, then you need to be mean about it.
"C'mon, Ace is probably wondering where we are." He nods, still silent.
Maybe there's a chance that you can fix them, just maybe.....
....you weren't cut out to be a baker.
After another grueling hour of making and topping that gargantuan tart, your arms hurt so badly that they felt like falling off. A whole day of exercise is going to make you real sore tomorrow.
How Trey did this for his dorm without pay, you don't understand. Because you didn't even want to do this and you don't even get to eat this delicious looking tart. Thanks again, Ace...
"Finished!" The victory cheer that Ace and Grim let out is the polar opposite of Deuce's.
"Fin..ished." You can't tell if this depressed cheer is because of all the hard work you've had to do, or because of that conversation you had on the way here.
"Did something happen to him while you were shopping?"
"He's still in shock." Oh, probably because he had his whole world being being flipped. But since he clearly loves his mother, you were a little surprised that he was this upset from it. The truth hurts, but it's probably for the best that you let that stab wound scab with a extra helping of salt. "Better let him work through this one himself."
"For sixteen years, I was so sure...." And for sixteen years, you were lied to. If that's what he was talking about.
"Yeah, whatever. I'm pretty beat. Making tarts sure takes it outta you."
"Yes, and now we can just give this to Riddle, and this headache is over." And it'll probably won't, cause life is such a dick.
"Hey fam!" And you were right. Another headache comes into the kitchen. Yay! "You look wrecked. Are the tarts done?"
"Ooh, those look sooo cute. Lemme snap a quick pic for Magicam!"
"Wa-" You don't even have a chance to move out of the frame before the bright flash goes off. Again.
"What, NOW you decide to show up?"
"I just came to see how hard my little newbs were working." Or to reap the rewards of all your hard work. But out of everything this could be much worse.
"It's tough work if you're not used to it. But there's no better cure for the ails of fatigue than something sweet from the oven!"
"Ooh finally!" You cheer, clapping your hands. Out of everything you went through in one day, something good will finally come all this BS.
"Pretty funny how you managed to show right when it was ready to eat, Cater." Free food means you don't are about Cater's shenanigans. Unless he takes too much then you're going to be mad.
"Mmm...That smells so good!" For what feels like the first time today you actually agree with Grim.
You take your first bite, and you feel like you've been set on cloud nine. It's delicious. Light, creamy, sugary and nutty. If this world's priorities weren't ass backwards you would consider staying just to try all the desserts it had to offer. You can't help the little jumps you make as you take your second bite.
"Rich in flavour, yet not too sweet...It's like chestnuts are dancing across my tongue!"
"Is that...a good thing?"
"Of course, it is! What I've give to eat these forever!" You say, dreamily. No wonder Riddle threw Ace out. You would've if they ate one of your tarts and they tasted like this.
"Oh, Trey! You gotta do the thing." Wait, what was Cater talking about?
"What thing?" You ask mid-chew.
"Oh...that thing." Ok, now you're spooked. What thing?
"Uh, Wanna fill me in here?"
"What's everyone's favorite food?" Kay. Weird thing to say after a mystery thing enters the chat. Wait now Cater's got you doing it, damn it.
Ace, Deuce and Grim all list off their favorite foods, "What about you, _____?" You respond in turn, with your favorite food, still what does that have to do with-
" All right, you've got it.....Let's 'Paint the Roses'!" A spark of magic goes off, but otherwise does nothing.
Regardless, you hit with another wave of deja vu. A set of clubs, and specifically, the three of clubs had been painting the roses red in your dream. So why was your dream connecting with real life?
"Huh? What does that mean?"
"Take another bite of your tart and see." You, hesitantly, take a small bite of your tart. But you don't taste the chestnuts, or the cream, or the even the sugar.
You taste home. You taste the birthdays you had with this on the menu. The sad nights where this was the only thing that could cheer you up. That one restaurant that made it perfectly and the nights you tried and failed to recreate it in your kitchen. It's so perfect it brings tears to your eyes.
The taste reminds you of home. A home you can't go back to. That has your friends and family waiting for you. Oh seven, are they looking for you? Are they worried? Are they panicking because you're gone? Even if they saw you leave, who the hell would believe a magic carriage poofed a kid out of the known universe?!
"_____? You're crying..." You instinctively reach up and wipe it away, you really were crying.
"S-Sorry, it really is my favorite food and....and it tastes like home." You say with a sad smile. "H-How did you do that?"
"It's my signature spell. Technically, it's 'overwriting characteristics'. I can change taste, color, smell and whatever. It only lasts for a little while." Well that's both cool and dangerous. Cool, because you can change so many things for a short time. And dangerous, because that whatever is carrying a ton. Does that mean he can change the characteristics of a person? Or a completely erase something from reality for a while? Curiouser and curiouser. "But it is kinda like covering up the real thing hence, 'painting'."
"If I had magic like that, I could be eatin' canned tuna every meal of every day!"
"You would do that, wouldn't you, Grim?"
"That's way better than Riddle's stupid collar magic."
"You love tempting fate, don't you Grim. The last thing we need right now is him popping outta nowhere again." You scratch your fingers through his fur, with a chuckle.
Trey doesn't seem to agree with Grim's compliment, "Oh, Riddle's magic's in a whole other league. His signature spell is a weapon. Mine's just a childish prestidigitation."
Is he insecure about it, or something? His magic is pretty cool, and the only reason you're really afraid of it is because of the fact that changing characteristics is pretty broad.
"Hey, don't beat yourself up. Yours is cool in your own way. His is just a little.....dictator-y."
Trey smiles at you, "Thanks, _____." Well, isn't that great. Now all we have to do is-
"Speaking of Riddle-it's too late to give him these now. Let's call it a day and do it tomorrow." Spoke too soon. Great, just great. You think the compliment would have buttered him up a little. Well, at least you just have to barricade your door.
"Don't forget that tomorrow's the unbirthday party. You don't want to be late."
Yeah you're have to go. Mr. Stickler-for-the-Rules Rosehearts wants you to attend so that he can keep an eye on you. Also you should probably go to make sure Ace doesn't fuck it up and get permanently kicked out.
Still, you aren’t looking forward to seeing that red tyrant in all his glory. But when the price to pay is having Ace living in your dorm until you graduate, you have to do it regardless.
"Yu, can I crash with you again? It doesn’t look like I'll be allowed in my own dorm tonight."
"It's not really like I can say no..." You murmur, which is true because you're afraid if angering him, but Deuce and Grim actually come to your aid.
"It isn't right to keep mooching off of ______, Ace."
"Yeah, it ain't! If you wanna stay tonight, you gotta pay for the privilege! Ten cans of tuna!"
"What? Guess I'm sleeping outside, then." That's all it took? Really?
"Why don't you go and stay at Yu's dorm," Well, that was a given. Thanks Trey, you didn't expect him to open his big fat mouth, especially after all the kindness he spared you and you in turn, thought you at least buttered him up," -too, Deuce, so you can keep an eye on him?" What.
Great, now you have two people. Two unwanted guests in your dorm, fan-fucking-tastic. That's two people wondering your dorms halls, and sneaking around.
"What fun for you. Ooh, maybe I'll come too!" Aw fuck no. Two was already overcrowding, three was way too many. "What do you say, Yu?" How about, fuck no Cater. You already going have two loose cannons roaming in your dorm, you don't need third.
Trey says what you can't for you much too your relief. "No pass for you." Thank you Trey, even if he did unintentionally, or intentionally since you don't know his motivations, hang you out to dry, that kept on liability to your freedom off your back. "Sorry to dump them all on you, _____. At least it's just for tonight."
"It's no problem." It's very much a problem, but you can't do anything about it. "See you tomorrow."
Till tomorrow, just a little longer it seems.
Just a little longer.
You were exhausted as soon as you went back to Ramshackle.
Having two yanderes in your house was two way too many, but with the day's exhaustion staring you directly in to the face. Half a night of sleep mixed with too much exercise, too much work, too much spent adrenaline, and too many emotions running high is a exhausting combination. And when it finally set in, you could barely keep you eyes open long enough to walk back to Ramshackle. So you were scooped up by Deuce, after a three minute argument between Ace and Deuce, and carried the rest of the way.
The way back to Ramshackle is uneventful, save for Grim's 'demands' for what he wanted for dinner now that the extra tart from earlier was well buried in his belly.
After feeding Grim like the cat he wasn't, you barely had the energy and strength to keep your eyes home as you made dinner. Thank the seven that instant noodles exist here. You didn't really want to cook for your two unexpected guests, but you just want to go to bed. The sooner, the better.
You also tuned out whatever conversation Ace and Deuce were having as you all ate in the lounge, way too tired to actively listen to it. If they asked you anything, you couldn't really remember what they said, you'll worry about that tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow, Ace and Deuce hopefully wouldn't bother you tonight, everyone's tired because of today so all you can hope for is that you had a peaceful night tonight.
But that didn't happen, because it's happened again.
Or it's better to say that that strange dream is happening again.
You remember drifting off in the warmth of your scratchy sheets, exhausted from the days events. Only to wake up just like you did last night. With that floaty feeling, making you feel like you were flying in the air and swimming in mud at the same time.
Unnerved, you throw off the covers to escape that uncomfortable feeling. But when you reach out to feel the blankets, you don't feel the scratchy fabric against your palm. Or the lumps of the old springs in the mattress or the warmth of Grim's sleeping body.
You place a hand of his fur but reel back in confusion when you don’t feel the softness of fur or the warmth of the flames on his ears.
"This is....it's a dream, right?" You ask to no one in particular. You get only silence in reply.
But like last time, the mirror glows its pale white light. It calls to you, it beckons you.
So are your dreams trying to show you something, like last time. It had told you about the painting the roses, and you did meet the three of clovers today. So maybe it's trying to warn you of something, something destined to happen tomorrow.
Well, the only way you'll be able to find out is if you try the mirror.
"Do you want me to go through?" You ask, and surprisingly, the mirror ripples in response.
Hesitant, you place your palm on the front of the mirror and, much more gently this time, it pulls you through.
Like last time, you're blinded by a too bright white light, and then you're on soft grass.
The world looks like a more animated version of Heartslabyul now, and you're stuck in what has to be the center of the rose maze.
You turn around, and the mirror that transported you is half buried among the surrounding hedges, showing your bedroom on the other side, just like last time.
But unlike last time, there's no one here.
The greyscale hedge maze is full of half and fully red roses, but there is no one here. Strange.
There are no card soldiers, no Alice and no Queen of Hearts, just en empty wonderland-
You freeze as you feel something hit your foot. You look down and-
He's tiny. That's not even an insult. The little guy is so tiny that you could have stepped on him if you weren't paying attention. He's dressed in a red cloak and has a proportionally tiny crown. And he's desperate pulling on your pants leg to drag you back to otherside of your mirror.
"You're the King of Hearts..." You realise, and the tiny king lets go of you, eyes widening at your recognition.
And then he goes back to yanking you back with all his force. Which isn't much, and he falls over twice in his attempts.
"Hey, wait a second. Why are you pulling me back." Is he trying to make you leave, but the mirror wanted to you come back here for something so could you even leave?
The Red King mimes something rapidly in panic, but he doesn’t say a word. Is he mute?
"Calm down." You object, reaching out to do.....whatever was needed to soothe him. Sure, he's small enough to pick up in your hand, but it's obvious that he's concerned about you. Maybe this has to-
You're cut off mid thought as soon as you wrap your hand around him, another light burst out even more blinding than the first, and you feel the tiny body and fabric in your grasp grow so rapidly, it's almost likely it was magic.
Which is because this is a dream.
You wipe the blinding light lingering in your eyes away with a groan, just as a pair of hands, this time normal sized, grab you by your wrists and pull you in the direction of the mirror.
<You need to leave!> The person sounds so desperate as he pulls you, <If she finds you, she's going to cut off your head! I'm just trying to help you!> You lurch forward as you struggle to blink away the remnants of the flash in your eyes.
You're thrown forward against something. It's hard, cold, and smooth to the touch. You try to pull away from the hard surface, but as soon as you rear back two hands on your back, push you forward. And then your vision finally clears.
<B-But I just saw you- I-It was fine a minute ago.>
What you landed upon is the mirror leading back to your room. From here, you can see Grim dozing away in your bed. The mirror had hardened as if stopping you from leaving till you've accomplished what it sent you to do.
But from this angle, a glare of stray light also hits the cold glass. Because in that's reflection, you can see a face that's all to familiar and at the same time not at all.
The person pushing you is dressed in a royal grabe, colored red, black, and gold, and it's covered with heart motifs. From his shirt to the crimson red jacket on his shoulders, from his buttons to the choker on his neck, tiny red hearts cover his clothing. He's still wearing a red cloak, but now it hangs as a cape rather than serving as his whole outfit. He's a little on the shorter side, about Riddle’s height but slightly taller.
And he looks panicked. No, panicked is an understatement. He looks like he's going to have anxiety attack followed by a mental breakdown.
He's stepped back to think ,or rather grasp helplessly at his ginger hair in abject horror. He's close the actually pulling it out, too. Surprisingly, the crown on his head has managed to stay put despite his frenzied pulling.
He's spiraling into a dark abyss of frenzied muttering. <What am I going to do!? She's going to cut off her head, and then the guards' heads and then my head, and everyone's heads!> Is that what you sound like when you're spiraling? Because he looks and sounds like he's on his last nerve and that nerve is fraying very fast.
Wait.
"Hey.....hey!" You manage to intervene somewhere between his ramblings of heads, and he shuts up as soon as you raise your voice.
<Y-Y-Yes?> He looks at you in fear, as if expecting you to be angry. If your theory is right, then, you can't help but feel sorry for him.
"You are the King of Hearts, darling of the Queen of Hearts?"
You hate the way your stomach sinks when he nods.
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You know the point of "protecting the children" dogwhistles, right? It's a reference to the idea that all queer people are child abusers. Super common belief among homophobes and transphobes, including (sometimes especially) gay ones.
It's also not just "a dogwhistle". When pressed to explain what exactly they want to protect children from, it's a ready-made emotional appeal to something that has broad social support. Most people, even if they don't like being around kids, are also not pro-child abuse. That's why conservatives go out of their way to invent (even if it's completely fictional) "reasons" why acceptance of gay and trans people amounts to child abuse. It helps them create an emotional connection with their target audience, and can be leveraged into logically ridiculous arguments like "well, if you don't agree with my platform, you must be pro child abuse, because I'm on the side of The Children".
"Protecting the children" is also super appealing to parents in particular, not because all parents are secretly authoritarians, but because it's super common to have a child and realize "Oh shit, I brought this person who can't defend themselves into the world and the world kind of sucks", and to feel horribly, horribly inadequate in the face of that.
I get very tired of people who mock, scorn, and ridicule people for falling for these rhetorical traps, or being snared by something that seems common-sense but disguises something ugly underneath. They are traps. That is what they're meant to be. That is why there are gay people who fall for anti-queer rhetoric, and get pulled into exclusionist or violently reactionary circles. We all have things we are vulnerable to, whether that is a history of being abused or a deep fear that we cannot protect our own children, who we brought into the world and are responsible for the protection of. And we gain nothing by mocking the latter.
I'm sure it makes some people feel great to say "well if you were really who you claim to be, you wouldn't fall for this shit", but frankly, that's a stupid-ass take. It misses entirely that these messages are carefully crafted by the people who hate us! They workshop these statements! They spend months or years trying to find the right message and when they find it they use the hell out of it, because it works. Because they are listening to the public conversations people are having online, and it doesn't take any level of basic agreement to be capable of regurgitating the party line word-for-word.
I am so sick of people who look at a deeply-embedded struggle over social and political ideals and think that this fight won't demand our whole brains and hearts and souls and yeah, we might fuck up because we care deeply and sometimes, people with bad intentions prey on that. On our grief and our fear and our rage.
And I'm frankly a lot more nervous around people who refuse to be aware of that, especially when they loudly mock the people who are willing to acknowledge their own fallibility and explore how they got ensnared in something. People are not moral machines, they are people.
#that post was pure moral purity police and it was so aggravating#the WHOLE point of that post was to shame every single person who saw it for being fallible and the net effect will not be to make us bette#it will be to make us less willing to interrogate ourselves and whether we're on the right track
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I think a prerequisite to understanding Durge and Gortash is understanding the movie Midsommar and its ending. Or rather, how people get lured into cults. It's probably weird to some, but people do incredibly fucked up shit as long as they're lonely enough. As long as they are starved of enough affection.
These guys were completely isolated. One murdered everyone they ever knew without meaning to, only to be snatched up by the person that would manipulate them, and the other one was rejected and discarded by everyone they loved before his brain could even develop properly. They were alone. The entire fucking world rejected them. Nobody batted an eye when they were suffering far beyond what anyone should have to go through. Everyone that mattered to them disappeared in the blink of an eye. At least Gortash certainly spent years like that, for Durge it's implied but tbf the initial event alone would've been traumatic enough.
And then, eventually, when they were at complete rock bottom, after suffering so much, so long, someone came along and offered them acceptance. Offered them affection, offered them the chance to belong somewhere. To have a place to be, a role to play. To be someone. To find people with the same mindset. To find people to admire and to be admired by. They were offered an escape from the overwhelming loneliness and grief. They were offered to be accepted for once.
People will ruin themselves to fit in or to gain the love of another. And they did just that. They blindly ran into the knife because they were promised to belong for once. Because of the simple promise they wouldn't be rejected.
It doesn't rectify what they did, but gods is it understandable that they did what they did. People have done worse for less. They are vile. They're monsters. They're horrible beings. But they were conditioned into it. They were manipulated to such a frightening degree that they willingly chose to follow masters who would torment them even after death, knowing what they were getting into, but still choosing it just to escape the fucking loneliness. They gave themselves up just to belong. They certainly are to blame, but so are the people who's sins they've inherited.
And just to be clear, that's also the major difference between Karlach and Gortash. Karlach initially grew up being somewhere, being accepted, being loved. Yes, she, too, was betrayed and sold, but she was an adult when it happened. She knew love. She knew what it was like. She could rely on that glimmer of a hope that the world didn't outright despise her. Gortash didn't. He was sold as a fucking child. He never knew. He didn't have the resources. He was just fucking desperate and already broken and crushed in ways you could never break Karlach. She had loving parents. Gortash's mother wished she would've killed him before he was even born. Karlach was loved once, Gortash has ever since been told the world would've been a better place if he simply didn't exist.
Also, congratulations, this makes durgetash so much more painful to think about. Cuz they were willing to reject whatever helped them survive for the affection of one another.
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This is a call to action for all the PJO girlies (gender neutral) that I know are sleeper agents on this webbed site
Go read Trials of Apollo. Go do it. Do it right now.
I know what you’re thinking. “Tbh I didn’t love Rick’s writing towards the end of Heroes of Olympus” “There’s no Percy so why bother” “All of the Argo II crew are kinda OOC” and listen my friends. You are so valid to have those opinions. I felt the same way after Blood of Olympus. But listen to me. Look at me.
Now that you have had some time away, you must give these books another try. For me. For Uncle Rick. For the demon baby grain spirit who is only able to say his own name (Peaches).
Do not worry friends, I do not expect you to read just based on my say-so - I also provide:
A list of reasons why you (yes you) should go read the Trials of Apollo series right now gogogo:
(Spoiler warning - all broad plot things that you learn early on, but I know some people (including me) avoid that shit at all costs)
All the chapters are titled in bad haiku. Ya know that one scene in Titan’s Curse where Apollo just starts reciting apropos of nothing? That’s every chapter title. They’re all so bad it’s amazing.
Apollo is so up his own ass about everything, and it’s so cool to experience the same world through the eyes of someone who is not used to being in amongst the chaos
Oh yeah the plot. That’s a reason to read it.
Okay so
Basically Zeus continues his streak of being a shitty shit parent and decides to blame like… every bad thing that has happened on Apollo, and punish him by turning him mortal and enslaving him to a demigod girl named Meg who is a garbage gremlin with a little demon baby guard named Peaches (see above)
And like the A plot is they gotta save the oracles from shitty old Romans who wanna take over the world (stop me if you’ve heard this one before)
But like the B plot is about what it means to discover that you’ve fucked up, you’ve made mistakes, you’ve hurt people, and you gotta fucking own up to that shit
But also
You do not deserve to be punished for every horrible thing that has ever happened because of you, or even around you, and when a parental or authority figure in your life tells you that, they are an abuser and they are wrong
And yet
It can be so hard to fully separate yourself from them. Because for so long, they were all you had.
But that’s okay, because when you start to learn that the people who were supposed to care for you and love you were not actually doing that, there are people around you who will love you, who will support you, who will pick you up and hold you close and make sure you know that you are okay
And they can’t fix you
But they can give you the safe space to fix yourself
hmm that was an essay about themes and metaphors BUT THATS WHY YOU SHOULD READ IT
also there’s a wikipedia arrow who only speaks in Elizabethan prose (in all caps)
OH ALSO ALSO you get to see Will and Nico being a CUTE AS FUCK couple in the first book. Nico smiles. Also makes skeletons grow out of the ground when people annoy him. Fuck I love this little gay death boy so much.
AND. You get to see so MANY of your old friends. And they still! Get! Plot! And! Character! Development!! Even though they are only there for a little bit
OH OH OH there are two old lesbians who run a halfway house for people who are tangled up in magic shit with nowhere else to go
Did I mention Peaches? I did. He’s my favorite.
OH ALSO. This is “unreliable narrator” executed SO FUCKING WELL. Like, all narrators are unreliable. But Apollo used to be a FUCKING GOD. He has not had to deal with the reality of death all that much. He’s used to people praising his name and bowing down at his feet. But that ain’t happening!! And he is Unhappy about that!! But it also lets there be such a clear juxtaposition between what Apollo believes about himself and about the world and what is really true, which is such a wonderful way to write about recovery from trauma.
Ahem
Anyway it’s just real good Uncle Rick continues to knock it out of the park but he just did something different and we (at least I) needed some space from OG PJO fan brain before I could appreciate how fucking awesome this series is.
OH OH OH and if you like audiobooks Robbie Daymond (hello CR mutuals - yes, this is the one who is our beloved Blue Boi who we (Orym) so desperately need returned) is the audiobook narrator and he is. So fucking good. Absolutely NAILS the dramatic-ass-inner-monologue of this dramatic ass ex-deity. Also nails all the other voices as well. 15/10 audiobook narration I’m lichrally gonna go listen to other books JUST cuz he reads them.
okay why the fuck are you still here. GO. GET THESE BOOKS. If your public library does Libby you can absolutely get them on there. GO FORTH.
#trials of apollo#toa#rick riordan#uncle rick#pjo#percy jackson#pjo apollo#peaches the karpos#robbie daymond
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Hello! I saw that you are accepting requests for strangeк things and I decided to try ... I really like reading your work and I would like you to write my idea if it's not difficult for you. In general, I sincerely believe that there is very little jealous!Eddie in the world and it kills me. What if Eddie and reader aren't together YET, but Munson is so damn jealous of her for Steve, and Steve and reader don't understand why Eddie is so...mean
+ extra points if Dustin solved all the problems again 😐😐
Sorry if this is too long and stupid! Love you!!!
Words Of Jealousy
Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
Summary : Eddie can’t stand reader and she has no clue why.
Word count : 2.1k
Warnings : Not proofread, some parts were written at 3am and some at a normal time (i can only apologise i love napping) swears, eddies stupid, minor angst, eddies mean to reader, reader shouts at eddie, reader panics about death (it’s kinda funny), brief talks about the upside down, happy ending, fluffy, idiots in love.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You don’t really know why’s it like this, but it always had been. Eddie didn’t like you that much was clear. Snide comments, eye rolls, chuckling when you embarrass yourself.
All in all he was an asshole. He came into your friend group a few months back, you’d seen him around before that, but hadn’t interacted much.
Steve Harrington had been your best friend since Pre-K, being inseparable (minus the King Steve - which you’ll forever tease him for) A lot of people assumed you’d end up together, however, the idea of that was gross to both of you.
You had dealt with the whole Upside Down situation also, becoming close with a lot of other people - including Robin Buckley, your other bestfriend and third of your trio.
“So I was thinking, we could have a movie night?” Steve said, his parents had been back for a week and had now gone on another business trip. He needed a fun night after dealing with those two trolls.
“Sounds good, but you’re not picking,” you spoke. “Why not?”
“Because your movie taste is awful,” Robin spoke, shoving a handful of M&Ms into her mouth. “What the hell? It’s not, I literally work in a movie store!”
“Which makes it so much worse,” you sighed, leaning your head on robins. “I’ll pick them out,” Robin spoke.
“Now you I trust.” She leaned her head back and kissed your chin.
“Fine fine, I’ll invite people.”
“Who are people?” you asked.
“Well you know, Nance, Jonathan, the kids, and you know …” he mumbled something.
“What was that?” He mumbled again.
“Couldn’t quite hear you Stevie.”
“Eddie.” You rolled your eyes, groaning. “He’s not that bad!” Steve tried to say.
“To you. He’s horrible to me and I don’t even know why!”
The bell to the store jingled, a sign that someone had walked in. “Speak of the devil,” you said, kissing Robin on the top of the head before jumping off the counter. “I’ll see you guys later,” you said to Robin and Steve, kissing the boys cheek as you passed.
“Aw going so soon Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, exaggerated pout on his face. “Oh bite me,” you said, shoulder bumping him as you went past.
What an asshole.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Steve had called you later on and apologised about the fact that Eddie was coming. He had begged you to come also, of course you said yes. You didn’t like Eddie, but that wouldn’t ruin your relationship with your best friend.
Climbing out of the car with your bag - you planned on staying the night, like most nights. You walked into Steve’s house, calling out a greeting.
“Hey,” he shouted back, head popping round a corner. “I’m taking my stuff upstairs, I’ll be back in a minute.” Jogging upstairs and into your allocated room you placed your bag on the bed. Pulling out your hoodie you slid it on heading back downstairs.
Coming out of the door, you bumped into someone, “Oh shit sorry Stevi- oh,” you spoke, meeting the eyes of a metal head.
“Watch yourself Sweetheart.” Walking away from him you began your decent on the stairs.
“Not talking to me today?” he asked.
“Ha, you’re funny,” you spoke, sarcasm lacing your tone. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” Stopping on a step and turning to him, “Why the hell would I waste my time?”
“Come on Sweetheart don’t be like that!”
“Jesus christ Eddie can you just shut up for one fucking second. I get you don’t like me, but I’m not here for you I’m here for our friends, so get your head out your house.”
His face went still, the playful glimmer leaving his eyes and jaw clenching. “I was teasing, maybe you should stop being such a bitch for once in your life,” he snarled, stomping past you.
As you said - asshole.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“Woah, you okay Eddie?” Dustin asked him.
“Princess’ got an issue today,” he rolled his eyes, sighing. “Let’s be honest, you’re not the nicest to her,” Steve spoke up, pulling a can of cola from the fridge for the boy.
“Doesn’t mean she gets to-”
“Eddie I’m telling you this as your friend, you insult that girl in front of my and I’ll break your nose,” Steve spoke, popping the tab and sliding the can to him.
The boy sighed again, taking a gulp of the drink. “Not everyone ends up liking each other and being friends Eddie, don’t take it personally,” Dustin tried to comfort him.
“I wouldn’t want to be her friend.”
“Well lucky me, cause that’s the last thing I want,” you spoke, appearing in the kitchen, making all three of them jump. Eddie almost seemed to wince when he saw you.
“ I get you don’t like me, but do not come in here and speak badly of me to MY friends. You have an issue I get that, you are rude and mean to me all the time and I don’t have a clue why, honestly I don’t care,” you took a breath.
“But do not, speak badly of me to my friends. I would have happily been buds with you, but you don’t want that clearly, every time I’ve been nice you’ve been cruel. Maybe grow up Eddie, fucking asshole,” you spoke.
After he left you on the stairs, you’d turned around and grabbed the bag. You couldn’t do this, even for Steve, you didn’t want to ruin the night with that horrible tension and simmering bitterness.
Turning on your heal you left the house heading to your car, heading your name called behind you. “I’m sorry Steve, just have a good night. I call you tomorrow and me, you and Robs can do something okay.” Kissing his cheek, you climbed in and headed off.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You didn’t drive home, you felt many things. Angry. Upset. Tired. You never had a solid reason why he didn’t like you and you know, like Dustin said, not everyone gets along. But he got along with everyone else - why not you?
You car clunked. Shit. Could this day be any more shit? It was getting dark too. You had no signal. And you were down a creepy side road. You were dead, that was simple.
Heading to the front of your car, you opened your car up. Smoke flooding your lungs. Well shit, you weren’t bad with cars, but you weren’t a magician. This definitely needed a mechanic.
Looking around you knew where you were, but the walk was far and it wasn’t that safe. You climbed back into the car, placing your head on the steering wheel. All you could do was wait here for now and hope that someone drove passed (preferably not a murderer) or sleep there until morning (and didn’t get killed).
Thank god for your hoodie, Autumn was rolling in quickly this year. Only a few days into September and it was sending a chills all over you - that could also be fear. If a light flickered, you’d vomit on the spot.
You sighed, well you’d better get comfy for now. The sunset was a beautiful sight, but also scary and you wished it would stop.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You’d been there for a while now, not wanting to waste your gas. It was cold and dark, and you could cry.
The car filled with light, looking behind you, a vehicle drove down the road. Squinting, you tried to make out what it was - a van. Oh shit, yes definitely dead.
Panicking, you tried to start the car again. No use. The lights of the van remained on, but the door of it slammed. Throwing yourself out of the car, you saw the large figure coming towards you.
Attempting to walk as quickly as you could without sprinting, you heading down the road and away from whoever it was. “Hey!” you heard a voice, but continued on your way.
Gravel crushed under two sets of feet, one moving alarmingly quick now. Hands gripped your shoulders and you screamed, squirming to get away. “Hey hey! Sweetheart calm down!” The voice said loudly now.
Shoving away from the person you almost cried out, “Eddie? What the hell?”
“Are you okay?” he asked, hands visible to you, as if you were a scarred animal. “Oh yeah, minus the minor heart attack I’m great.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“My car broke down,” you sighed.
“Have you been here since you left Steve’s.”
“Pretty much.”
“Sweetheart you left 5 hours ago, people are worried.”
“What?” you asked, “Why would anyone be worried?”
“Well …,” he began.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Steve walked back into the kitchen, hand running through his hair. “What is your issue with her?” he snapped at Eddie, unable to ignore the behaviour anymore.
“I don’t have an issue! She’s just not my type of person!”
“Not your type of person, she’s everyone’s type of person. She’s sweet and kind and just lovely.”
“She’s you best friend, you’d think that!”
“So what you just hate her for no reason?”
“I don’t hate her!”
“Then why do you behave the way you do?”
“He likes her,” Dustin spoke up, munching on a potato chip. The older boys turned and looked at her. “W-what?” Eddie asked.
“You can deny it all you want, but you’re acting like most young boys do when they like people. Tease them, which in all honesty is so stupid.”
“Is it true? Do you like her?” Steve asked.
“N-no! I wouldn’t! I wouldn’t do that to you!”
“Do what to me?” Steve asked cocking his head, purely confused. “S-she’s your girl.”
“Yeah my best friend. But she’s not my girl in a romantic sense. That’s gross, we’ve know each other forever, she’s basically my sister.”
“What?” Eddie asked, not really a question.
“God you’re stupid. Go after her,” Dustin sighed. “Henderson’s right, go,” Steve spoke. Eddie nodded, running out of the house and to his van.
Driving to your home he was confused not to see you car there, but knocked the door none the less. Pulled open, he came face to face with your mother. “Oh hello, can I help you?” No judgement at all - that wasn’t common.
“Hi, I’m Eddie. I’m a uh … friend of your daughters. I was just wondering if she was home?”
“Sorry Honey, she’s staying at a friends tonight. I can get her to call you when she’s home,” she smiled at him softly.
“Thank you,” he nodded, raising a hand in goodbye, heading back to his car. “Where are you Sweetheart?” He mumbled to himself.
Deciding that heading back to Steve’s was the best option, to see if she’d cooled off and gone back. He panicked when he saw the absence of your car, Steve would know where you’d go.
Running in the house, he didn’t even bother to knock, calling out for your bestfriend. “You’re back?” he questioned.
“If she wasn’t home where would she be?”
“She’s not home?”
“No,” the metal head sighed.
“Shit.”
“Yeah shit.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“We’ve been looking for you for hours Sweetheart.”
“I didn’t mean to worry anyone, I just didn’t want to walk in the dark.”
“You’re lucky it was me who found you.”
“I know.”
“Seriously you could have been hurt, why didn’t you go home?”
“Because I needed to clear my head!”
“So you come to somewhere unsafe.”
“I was passing through! Why are you so bothered?” you almost shouted at him.
“Because I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt because of me!”
“Why?”
“How can you not know?”
“Know what?”
“I like you! For fuck sake! This is what all of this has been about. I thought you were with Steve and I’d rather you be happy with him and hate me then be nice and let me fall in love with you,” he said in one breath.
“Wha-“
“I know it’s stupid and childish, but I don’t really know how to talk to girls I like! And I panicked and I didn’t want Steve to hate me for liking his girlfriend.”
“‘M not his girlfriend.”
“I know that now.”
“You like me.”
“I do.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I am.”
“I’ve liked you since Middle School.”
“I kno- Wait what?”
“You heard me. Now can you help me with my car because I am freezing.”
“Oh uhh yeah sure. I can get my Uncle to call his buddy to tow it to the shop.”
“Thank you Eddie.”
You headed back to your cars, side by side. “You really like me?” he asked.
“I do. You’d know that if you got to know me.”
“Yeah I guess so.”
“You can make it up to me.”
“How so?” You smiled slightly, then linked your fingers through his ring covered ones. “Take me on a date Munson.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
A/N : I hope you enjoyed this request it was really fun to do more jealous Eddie, but I had to make it happy in the end.
I am having major writes block so if you have any ideas of requests or stuff let me know. I’m currently back in my criminal mind phase so if you’d be interested in fics about the guys from that (-mainly spencer lmao) let me know 🤍
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x yn#joe quinn#joe quinn imagine#stranger things imagine#eddie stranger things#eddie x you#eddie x y/n#eddie munson angst#eddie x fem!reader#strsnger things#joesph quinn#joseph quinn imagine#joesph quinn imagine#louloulemons#fluff#imagine#fluffyending#oneshot
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Roommate or boss?
part 1, part 2, part 4
Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.
Warnings: none.
Word count: 1.5k.
Katsuki knows you will not remember anything from this night tomorrow, since he sees how drunk you are. He’s sober though, and what you said has him thinking from the moment he leaves you on your bed, soundly asleep.
He’s always been a rude guy, he thinks people are too used to kindness to function properly in nowadays society.
To prove his (still standing) point, he opened the cafe when he was 18. He wanted to make something out of his life, and he knew he couldn’t do it without a steady income. Honestly, he opted for a cafe just because one day Midoriya said he couldn’t see him as a cafe owner. Basically, he opened it out of spite. So he bought the store from an old lady that was literally almost gifting it, painted it himself all summer, put the counters/chairs/machines that he bought all over the country (“if they’re good, cheap and they can ship them here, I can always fucking renovate them”) and he hired some of his frien- uhm, classmates, as his work subordinates.
They all just finished high school, so they all needed money. Todoroki and Momo weren’t even together back then. They had their little flirt moments, sure, but working together really strengthened their relationship. It made Katsuki sick to his stomach.
If Katsuki was something, he prided himself on being honest: he never said their paycheck was coming in late, or that they wouldn’t be paid. He did all he could to be the boss he wanted others to be happy about.
For the last 4 years things have gone pretty well. Kirishima was (and still is) a big part of this project, and Katsuki probably wouldn’t have come so far without his aid (even if he would never admit it).
Even if he was indeed the boss, he opts to never go himself at the cafe, since he likes to be behind the scenes more (also, even if he doesn’t know it, this is the reason why he doesn’t recognise you, even if you have been working there for 2 years). And maybe it’s also because seeing some of the people that stuck with him since the beginning makes him feel a tenderness that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.
And yeah, he was definitely still a rude guy. He just didn’t think he wanted to be nice to people, or, well, he knew he didn’t want to be. Things have gotten better since middle school, sure, and he now has friends who accept him just as he is, but he isn’t used to making friends. One day he woke up and he had friends. He always (jokingly?) said he was forced to be their friend.
But you were different.
At the time he met you, he was really desperate to find a place to stay in, since he had to be more and more present each day at the office. His old landlord was an ass and kicked him out since all of a sudden he wanted to rent each room of the establishment to a different person, and he remembers crashing at Kirishima’s place for two weeks while he was searching for a new apartment. You just happened to post that you needed a roommate the same day he was about to call his parents (yes, he was THAT desperate).
You were the 23rd person he visited in those 2 weeks. He was pissed out of his mind: 5 out of 22 people never got up to greet him at the door; 6 already had a roommate and they just wanted to sublet to make more money; 10 were living in such horrible conditions that he thought he got sick every time he saw a pile of old dirt in their home; 1 just wanted to have… some kind of intercourse… since they saw his photo on the booking app.
And when he saw you opening the door of your house with sleep still covering your features, he was about to turn around and really call his old folks. He was tired of this shit.
But you still managed to smile, even if he noticed how your eye ticked slightly when you clarified that he was indeed early after he pettily said that he waited for you for 15 minutes. Also, that remark was probably what made him stay. He didn’t want a weak extra as his roommate, and his more-than-good sixth sense was saying that you were indeed capable of holding your ground.
He does find you incredibly annoying, though. You have this aura of softness he doesn’t like, but that he is drawn into. He is a pretty silent guy when he is in his personal space, while you like to talk about whatever you have done a certain day, or about your new trashy show, or the new recipe that you saw on IG that he “absolutely has to try”. You basically yap all day long, and it gets on his nerves. Badly.
But he also enjoys your company. He’s very loud when he’s with his friends, being as naturally angry as he is about anything, but your softness rubs on him the wrong way, and it makes him stay silent. Well, he knows this is what he tries to tell himself, anyway.
He doesn’t want to admit to himself that the way you want to be his friend puts him in the awkward position of not being able to reciprocate your efforts. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, it’s that he doesn’t know how to, and he hates not being good at something.
And so, he distances himself. Even if he does watch you from afar, and even if he did notice a lot in the 4 (almost 5, “fuck rent is due tomorrow”, he thinks) months you have lived together. For example, you’re super easy to please. When you have a bad day he notices that you brighten up if he cooks both of you dinner (which really isn’t a hassle for him, even if he says so) instead of making you cook for yourself. Or that if you have a pretty tiring day at work/uni and he “accidentally” leaves some coffee in the pot before his morning run the next day, your eyes twinkle a little bit more when he comes back home.
He’s not used to being so close to someone who tries their best to be happy anymore. The last time he was that close to someone happy, he started to be a bully (yes, he did say sorry to Midoriya. Multiple times. Mostly when he sporadically got drunk in high school).
Your outburst gets him thinking because, after all, you’re a really good fucking roommate. He’d hate to have to search for another apartment because you get sick of his ass.
Most importantly, some part of him likes how different you are from him, and he doesn’t want to be rude when he knows you’re just trying to make him like you. But it’s second nature to him. You’re too pure in that sense, and he wants nothing to do with that.
He doesn’t know how to say sorry, just like he doesn’t know how to change things. The fact that you won’t remember anything and even if you will you probably would just shrug it off just makes him believe that it’s not that big of a deal.
After all, if your roommate still pays their rent and acknowledges you as a human being, what could possibly go wrong?
“Fuck, my head is killing me” whines Ochaco while you escort her out of the door.
“We really have to stop getting drunk” you sigh, while rubbing your temples. “You have Midoriya picking you up, right?” you ask your best friend.
“Fortunately yes. Say hi to your roommate, I don’t think we had the chance to meet yet” she responds.
You raise an eyebrow before saying “you don’t think?”.
She shrugs, before adding “you never know, this town isn’t that big. Maybe I’ll find out that, I don’t know, he used to be my boyfriend’s best friend or something like that”.
You laugh, “you read too many novels”.
A car parks right in front of your door, and a guy with green curls walks out of it.
“Hi! I’m Midoriya. You must be the best friend Ochaco always talks about” he says while putting on the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a human face.
“Hey, that’s most definitely me. Take good care of her, okay?” you reply with a smile of your own. “I have to get back to my thesis, but we have to meet each other again soon. Drive safely!” you add, while he gets her purse on his shoulder and gets the door of the car on her side open.
“Thank you so much babe. Don’t stress yourself and text me!” your best friend says before Midoriya nods at you and starts the car.
You get inside of your house again.
You and Ochaco just woke up, so you still have to eat breakfast.
While you get near the coffee machine you notice a scribbled note on the counter.
“Left coffee 4 u. u'll need it. also, rent is due. -K”.
You smile and roll your eyes, pouring the coffee into a cup while opening your text messages app.
You: you could’ve texted me, you know. Thanks for the coffee.
Bakugou answers almost instantly.
Katsuki (roommate): wtv.
#bakugo katuski#bakugou katsuki#bnha#and they were roommates#bakugo fluff#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#soft bakugou#barista au#bakugou angst#bakugou fic#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n
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I really want to write this as like a fully fledged, 100k word fic, but I just do not have the time. I need to get the idea down so here it is.
So modern AU. Steve is an Alpha, always known he wanted to help people, little boy who wants to be a police officer or a firefighter, that sort of thing. Mother humors him, Dad is disinterested, both parents are hands off to the point of being borderline neglectful without actually crossing the line - the second Steve can legally get out, he goes to college. Ends up taking an interest in Omega studies, of all things - which leads neatly into the career choice that Steve didn't even know he needed.
By the time Steve is 23 he's leading his own little team under the watchful eye of his superior - Jim Hopper. They're a special branch of the FBI, geared specifically to finding and breaking up illegal Omega abduction and trade rings. Steve's good at what he does - really good - top of his class for firearms, has an affinity for the Omega he comes into contact with, and his control over his Alpha is pretty second to none. Steve can radiate comfort in the middle of a firefight if he has to - if it means keeping these people safe.
Steve sees some pretty horrible shit - he's miraculously well adjusted, goes to his mandated therapy sessions like a good boy, and gets on with Hopper surprisingly well for how surly the guy can be.
Steve's worst attribute is that he's a workaholic - he has a history of failed relationships, so he gives up entirely and has no social life to speak of.
And then Steve's out with his team - it's taken months to track this down. Steve's been supervising undercover agents, starting with a tip off about illegal drug trades that pinged Steve's radar as Omega hormones. So rather than heading in and arresting at base level, Steve, with Hopper's nod, pulls the thread.
They assumed the hormones were heat inducing - they were wrong, and what they find is horrifying. The drugs have been used on un-presented kids. Stolen kids, as young as 11, to try and force them into presenting as Omega. These kids have been abducted from everywhere, no sense to it that anyone can see - except that these kids all come from poor families. Marginalized by society - in a lot of cases, kids that haven't even been reported as missing.
To top it off - the kids are being abused. Neglected, starved, left in filthy conditions and being regularly sexually assaulted. It is by far the worst thing Steve, or even Hopper, in his long carer, has ever seen.
They go in, break up the ring, the perpetrators are either killed in the ensuing firefight or captured and brought in.
Steve sustaining only minor injuries in the altercation, continues on with his job to clear out the kids and get them to safety- in his haste to get to where the final group of kids are being held, sets off a booby trap of some sort.
Steve is badly injured- his lower left leg taking the vast majority of the damage- for the first time in his career, Steve panics. But then he has a kid with him, big brown eyes and a mop of curly hair, skin too pale and drawn, dirty fingers and bare feet. And this kid is trying to comfort Steve, obviously understanding that this is a rescue. By the time the rest of his team get to him, Steve is finding comfort in the scent of un-presented pup - the little guy curled up right against Steve.
The pup is, evidently, also finding comfort in Steve, both of them locked together, faces buried in each others scent glands.
They wont let go of each other, even in the ambulance, and it's decided pretty quickly that if they're keeping each other calm, to let them stay that way. On arrival to the hospital, they're both sedated for their own good - Steve wakes up to find he's missing his left leg from the knee down, and Hopper asleep slouched in the chair next to him.
The first thing he does is ask about the pup - Hopper tells him what he can, the kid is called Eddie, was small because he was starved and actually was thirteen years old - and he's safe and well, already reunited with his uncle.
Steve can relax. But not really. Because once his leg heals, he's in physio, and then learning to regain his mobility with a prosthetic, also dealing with the deafness the explosion left him with in his left ear, and the scarring that stretches all the way up to his left hip.
Hopper is determined not to loose Steve off his team - he basically invents a roll for him, if he wants it - Steve is too good to be wasted, so he goes back to work for Hopper in an investigative roll. He'll never work in the field again, but he becomes the brains behind a lot of successful operations.
But still, he's listless, missing the hands on aspects on his roll. He treads water for nearly two years, before he happens to have a conversation in the office break room, with one Robin Buckley.
Steve's known Robin for years, she's an Omega behaviorist, and works a lot with traumatized Omega, rehabilitating, therapy, that kind of thing. She's always been there, on the periphery of Steve's team, taking the Omega off their hands. After Steve's rescues, it's with Robin that the real work often begins. From the conversations they've had previously - Steve handing over information about conditions he'd found Omega in, likely what they've been put through, and anything else that will help Robin do her job, he's always found her sympathetic but no nonsense. He's always respected Robin.
And maybe that's why their conversation easily slips into Steve confessing his listlessness - and what prompts Robin to suggest he retrain. She's heard herself how bombproof Steve's Alpha is in the field - would he be interested in a day or two a week with her team? Positive Alpha exposure is often a vital step in the reintegration process.
Steve thinks about it. He talks about it with Hopper. Between them both, Steve figures he has nothing to loose, and Hopper agrees to release Steve a day a week to Buckley's department on a trial. Steve takes on extra training - bolstering up his Omega Studies qualifications from College. Steve loves it. it's fulfilling. It gives him the hands on aspect of his job he'd been missing.
And then Hopper lands a file on his desk - it's come to them via unorthodox means, through a local doctor, then a hospital specialist, then flagged by Buckley's team as it's an old rescue case. A closed case. And Steve opens the file to find a picture of himself, grainy, black and white, but unmistakably Steve. He's sitting on a gurney, someone desperately doing something to the mess of his leg, but in his lap, the curly haired pup he hadn't let go of that day.
The pup who, apparently had presented an Omega. Steve reads, doing the math, reading the hospital records from that day. The kid had presented basically the second he'd woken up. He'd presented, most likely, while Steve was in surgery still.
That stirs something in Steve. Something a little unfamiliar; the feeling that he hadn't been there and he should have been.
There's another picture, Edward Munson, the kids put on weight, he's grown some. Still has big brown eyes looking out of a very pretty face; and that stirs something in Steve too.
Munson basically hasn't been okay since the rescue. At first they put it down to the usual stuff, the kid had survived being abducted, drugged, sexually assaulted, physical harm, that kind of trauma can take years to work though, decades, a lifetime. But everyone is maintaining there's something a little off with this kid, something else wrong, something hindering his recovery that really shouldn't be; it's like he's mate sick.
But he doesn't have a mate.
The one time they tried to expose this kid to an Alpha, it ended so badly he became aggressive. And then someone dug deep enough to find this photo, to read this file.
Steve's standing up before Hopper gets to the end of the question, yes, he wants to see the Omega, yes, he's going to work with the Omega.
There's a frustratingly long song and dance around it - Buckley wants to follow protocol to the letter, so their first meeting is in one of the Omega work rooms, just Eddie and Steve, very calm, very controlled, with Robin and Hopper observing from the other side of a one way glass mirror.
Eddie backs away at first, is dubious of Steve, but Steve has a worn shirt with him and leaves it on a chair within reach, and once Eddie, finally scents it, he bursts into tears, "is it really you?" he sobs, and Steve confirms that it is, and Eddie is climbing into Steve's lap, still sobbing, "I thought I'd never see you again."
And they stay like that, until Robin finally breaks them up, but Eddie will not let go of Steve, not completely, and Steve doesn't want to let go of Eddie either, but he has to.
He has to make his case. He has to explain that that sixteen year old Omega, a decade Steve's junior, is without doubt Steve's mate. There's a lot of back and forth, they need the uncles blessing, which after a thirty second conversation with Eddie, Wayne doesn't hesitate.
Steve takes Eddie home, with instructions from Hopper to take all the time he needs.
This is where the real work starts, Eddie is traumatized, has been mate sick since the day he presented, and needs a hell of a lot of work. Their bond is solid, but formed in trauma, so the attachment issues become almost immediately apparent.
They put in the work - Eddie has a therapist who is not Steve, and Steve still goes to his own therapy sessions like a good boy. They deal with a lot of things, Eddie's night terrors, his awful relationship with food, his inability to settle, the panic attacks. Eddie's first heat, where nothing happens because Eddie is still terrified of sex. They work through Eddie's confused feelings; Steve falls utterly and completely in love.
Eddie slowly picks up his reading - the education he's missed - starts gently with a distance learning course. Steve goes back to work, a gentle three half days a week to start with.
They get through it all, and make a life together.
#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie#ao3 writer#ficlet#alpha steve harrington#omega eddie munson#omegaverse#plot bunny#writer#my writing#robin buckley#jim hopper#mentions of child abuse#mentions of trauma
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Since guts and blackpowder gives us free range for the characters here’s some personal headcanons for their personalities and lives given you can only psychoanalyze them so much. This is as realistic as I can make it based off surface level psychoanalysis + untrue garbage I made up.
Barry:
Despite his short temper (Typical brit) Williams is socially inept and shy. Like super timid. That dumb little softboy persona he has going on there shouldn’t be an indicator that he isn’t dangerous. Dude literally got trained as an infantry solider. He doesn’t want to hurt people, in fact, he avoids it when he can. The war is needless to him and he doesn’t understand why they’d draft someone like him — a lowly stableboy who’s quite known in his village for treating his horses and farm animals like his babies. His overly affectionate and polite personality (which came directly from his overbearing mother) has landed him a lot of bullying by his peers. Aforementioned hesitation to the enemy, but to zombies? He’s under the belief they’re from satan himself like the rest of the world. Afraid of them, but feels a spiritual duty to slay God’s enemies.
Jean:
He’s overly paranoid of Napoleon failing, and holds those french revolutionary beliefs. He wants Napoleon to win, so badly. He really doesn’t want his children living in a world with a stupid monarchy eating better than they do. Jean has no comprehension that maybe Napoleon isn’t the best fit for a country’s leader, in fact he’ll yell at you if you suggest otherwise. His wife died during childbirth and this, coupled with war has hardened him. He has never laid a single hand on his children because his father was deeply abusive, and of course this resulted in a pretty pessimistic, sad, depressed mess of a man. Constantly wanting better and yet fearing the worst. He’s a tough love kind of fatherly friend. Eat your damn rations or you will die. Speaking of which he literally wants to die :D
Jacob:
If this were modern day he’d be legally blind. His clumsiness isn’t the result of stupidity. The direct opposite in fact. He overthinks his job way too much and couple that with his dogshit eyesight, it’s no wonder he has a track record of being the napoleonic war’s personal south park Kenny. If ever a cartoon were made, I could l definitely see him in the background nailing in stakes incorrectly and getting confused as to why it wasn’t as affective as the other sapper’s. He has two sisters back at home and they hate him. They’re pro-monarchy, he isn’t. He raised and took care of these awful pieces of shit. Who were independent thinking teenagers by the time their parents died of sickness. So he couldn’t really influence them even if he tried. He has largely remained non(?) un(?) courted and unmarried his entire life. Hes a huge wine mom induced by stress and if you ever asked him why he never took a wife, he’d start spontaneously crying probably. Sad drunk. Cannot show emotions unless he’s drunk.
Karl / Unnamed Officer:
Selective mutism, ambition.. Way too much ambition. He wants to take down Napoleon himself and even fully believes he’s capable of doing so. Wants to cheat his way above the ranks somehow. He hides this and refuses to reveal his intentions to virtually anyone. Trying to get as close to the general as possible. Not because he agrees with the monarchy thing, but he just wants the fame and glory that comes along with executing him. The other men have horrible tempers but him? Holy. shit. He does not usually act upon his anger but as a wise man once said, “Silence speaks louder than words.” He silently judges those he’s angry at. Could imagine him getting teased, gripping a damn teacup so hard that it shatters in his hand and causes the entire room to go quiet. His whole regiment is batshit TERRIFIED of him. He refuses to betray his life story, let alone if he has any family. Nobody knows crap about him and that furthers the fear. Karl literally popped out of nowhere and his adorable babyface and gentle voice has won him the hearts of women wishing to be his wives… Whom he rudely pushed away in disgust. Has anyone seen that one scene in pootie tang where a woman is simping after him, and so he slips her a bowl of milk like a fucking clingy cat? Yeah I feel Karl would pull something like that.
#jordan.txt#guts and blackpowder#g&b#karl guts and blackpowder#jacob guts and blackpowder#jean guts and blackpowder#barry guts and blackpowder#unnamed prussian officer
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Why Can't You Stop Part 2 (NSFW)
Sociopath!Ethan Landry X Innocent!F!reader
W/C - 1.5 K
Summary - You've started to notice some recent chnges in Ethans behavior towards you and he can't help but watch you from afar.
Warnings - Making out, kinda foreplay but like nothing happens, fluff, kinda smut, angst, stalking, perv ethan, inno but kinda bimbo y/n, blood and gore, underage drinking, mentions of stalking
A/N - I'm open to requests guys!
*first part
*last partt (COMING SOON)
You couldn't deny it, ever since that moment on your porch with Ethan, everything has been awkward, well for you anyways. Ethan hasn't said a word and it's been three weeks since everything happened. You wanted him to talk to you about it.
"Y/N, what's up? you've been awfully quiet today." Tara notes, everyone at the dinner table then looks at you, all the conversation in the dining room coming to a complete stop. You hated how he was just sitting there and having a conversation with anyone but you.
"Nothing, it's just...there's someone on this table who won't even fucking talk to me, and I don't know what the hell I did!" You half yell. Ethan's eyes go wide in shock as he squirms in his chair. You get up and sigh. "I'm tired, I'm going home, bye guys."
"Oh, bye..." Mindy trails off, as you start to leave and start to close the door, someone's doc martins stop the door from fully closing. "Ethan, please, just leave me be." You say and he chuckles.
"You know I could never do that." He says in a dark tone as he starts to walk with you. "Look, about me not taking to you...you're a distraction Y/N, a big one and there's some big shit going on and I can't date you, it'll get in the way of everything."
"You could've told me that two or possibly one week ago, but now! I thought I did something wrong! I thought I fucked up and you hated me! But no, it's because your too worried about some big thing you have going on!" You rant, you didn't even care how selfish that sounded to yourself. He should've told you.
"Look, I know, but let me walk you home." He asks and you nod. You were terrified of New York streets at night, all the alley ways and homeless people who your parents taught you that they'll kidnap you if you're walking on the streets alone at night. Horrible plan really, now your terrified of them in general.
The rest of the walk to your little apartment is silent, until you get to the door. "Shit, I forgot my keys and Chad is staying over at Sam's, can I chill here?" Ethan asks. You slightly grimace at the idea of him staying over. You don't want him to kiss you and never talk to you for ages again. You nod your head and open the door.
Why couldn't Ethan just stay over at Sam's as well? "I was probably just going to watch a movie, if you wanted to join, you could...if you wanted too." You say to Ethan as you shift on your feet, the tension thickening in the air.
"Yeah, sure! Thanks for the offer." Ethan smiles and you smile awkwardly. As you both get settled in on the couch, you play a random movie as you both are on the other ends of the couch, furthest away from each other. "Look, Y/N, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ghosted you and I certainly should've talked to you."
You sigh a little and he moves closer to you on the couch and grabs your hand. He slowly starts to caress the back of your head with his thumb lightly. "You really should've." You squeak. He pouts a little and then shifts his position so he's facing you directly. He then moves his hand up to your cheek, watching you carefully. Unwantedly, butterflies flutter in your stomach making you regret everything about this decision. His face slowly leans in and closes the gap of space between you both and his lips meet yours.
You kiss him back and let the pleasure take over you. He cups the back of your neck, and he slides his tongue across your bottom lip, slowly but surely, earning a light moan from you. You were going insane, he touches you, treats you like a precious piece of stone and then degrades you when he feels like it. And some reason why, you lusted for it, every bit of attention he could give you wanted. As he lightly pulls of his shirt and then starts to unbutton yours, you grab his neck and kiss his jawline.
As your shirt is fully of your body, Tara slams the door open with Chad, Mindy and Anika and she screams "Party time Y/N! Shit- Sorry did I interrupt something?" You and Ethan scurry off each other and just like that, his other side hides away again. You weren't ready for the next moments of the day.
You got ready in your room with Tara and Mindy, Anika was getting snacks in your kitchen. "So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Mindy says. "Yeah, Ethan's boner." Tara laughs and I stare at her wide eyed. Mindy laughs a little. "When? When did this start? We need details"
"I don't know, a couple weeks ago he came to my apartment and we kissed." You shrug. Mindy looks shocked and Tara looks confused. "Wait- virgin, shy, would never kiss a girl, Ethan?" Mindy asks and I nod. "But he wasn't like that, he was brave, endearing and kind of psychotic."
"That's crazy." Anika says, walking in with a bowl of chips. "No, cause like he doesn't seem like that kind of guy." You smile a little and nod. "He really doesn't." You smile.
You all arrive to the party, everything becoming a blur as a red cup gets placed in your hands and quickly gets switched out for a new one once you've finished.
After a while, you start to notice a blonde guy in the corner, taking a slow interest in you, staring at you, biting his lip when he looks at you and he slowly starts to walk his way over. "Hey, wanna dance?" The guy asks, you shake your head, having a slight feeling that you know how this is going to pan out.
"No thank you, I'm just going to stand here and wait for my boyfriend." You lie, it wasn't a full lie, you were waiting for Ethan, and you wanted to talk to him about what you guys were. Someone's hands crawl around your waist and a pair of lips attach to your neck.
"Hey babyy." Ethan slurs from behind you, "Please don't give my girlfriend anymore trouble bro, or tomorrow morning there'll be an ice pack on your face." The guy puts his hands up in the air defenselessly and walks away. You giggle lightly and turn around and you wrap your arms around Ethan's neck. Your lips meet with Ethan's and you couldn't contain yourself to a slight moan as the alcohol or your reaction to all this fizzles in the pit of your stomach.
You smile as you pull away and smirk, "Want to ditch and go back to my place?" He asks and you shake your head. "Nope, I'm here for Tara and the girls, I am here for them." "Then, meet me up in the first bedroom in ten minutes, there will be a great surprise for you." He winks as he pulls away from you and walks up the stairs.
After about ten minutes of finishing two drinks, you start to walk up the stairs, you also start to realize that you haven't seen the blonde guy ever since that thing between him and Ethan. You open the door to the first bathroom and your eyes open wide in shock.
The blonde was there, you close the door as blood was everywhere, his body was teared apart, and he was eating his own eyes as trails of blood flowed down his face and you can't help but scream. There ghost face was in all his glory and as the mask was removed, you gasp.
The curly haired boy you had just kissed was behind the mask. "E-Ethan, why?" You ask, terrified of all the possibilities of what could happen to you. The knife was still in his hands, and it was same one from that night on the porch, people died that night as well from an infamous ghost face killer.
"Well, baby, let me start from the start." He half slurs. He walks around you and starts playing with strands of your hair. You flinch at him touching you. "When I saw you for the first time, I knew you were the one for me baby, I started watching you, stealing things of yours, then my, what you call them, my co-workers were going on about killing you and we just couldn't have that, you mean way too much to me."
He then places kisses on your neck and traces the knife across your cheek, blood spreading from the blonde that was in front of you. "So, I killed them, it wasn't a part of the plan, baby. But I knew you'd be safe. You're just so trusting and it's sad to see people hit on you and you just fucking stand there, so I killed all of them, it really helped me get rid of my anger."
You sob as you see the dead person in front of you. "Why would you kill people for me?" You ask and Ethan chuckles. "Because...baby...you're like a drug."
🎯 = @idky5 @acornacreacure @nowitsmissing @1950schick
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"It's ok love", Part 2-Anthony Lockwood
requested: anonymous
words: 3255
warnings: reader's family being horrible, people judging her job and body and how she isn't married, slight misogyny, swearing. (I had a lot of fun writing some of the family dynamic and making up reader's story about her family and I have so much more of her back story to reveal and I'm so excited. Also all of my stories are usually female reader unless otherwise stated, or sometimes no gender is mentioned if I can, but I just prefer to write it like that) thanks for reading, enjoy. Please enjoy, my laptop decided to combust twice while writing this and this took me like 2 hours.
summary: Anthony and reader have arrived at reader's family's place. Anthony is gone for his job and reader is stuck with her family. He comes back to her crying in her room after her family dinner.
The train ride from hell finally ended with Anthony waking me up, telling me we'd arrived at our stop. I got up groggily, reaching to grab my bag, but Anthony stopped me.
"I've got it love," he said, grabbing mine and his bags, carrying them off of the train.
I couldn't help but smile at his act of service. I'd known him long enough to know there was no stopping him when it came to him helping people. He loved it. Doing acts of service for people was his love language, so I never stopped him when he did stuff like this for me.
Leaving the train, we called a cab, and I gave them the address to my parents place. I was nervous the whole ride. Mostly because of how Anthony would react to seeing how rich my family truly was. I know it sounds dumb to be embarrassed by being rich, but it was more of the fact that people would judge me for it and the fact I chose to be an agent. Everyone would always say how dumb I was for running away from such a lavish life, and how becoming an agent, potentially almost dying everyday, instead of staying safe in my family's house and wealth, was such a stupid idea. It was even worse when they would add that I only did it because I was 'rebellious' or 'just a kid' who didn't know what they were doing.
But it's the exact opposite. I'd rather be using my talent for something good than wasting it away. Why sit around doing nothing my whole life, when I can go out and help people. It felt like what they probably told Maria Anna Mozart, when they told her to stop making music, and that she had to marry someone and give up on her dream, or telling Van Gogh to just sit in his depression rather than work his way out through art.
Then again, I was only one agent amongst thousands, but I still believed I could potentially make a difference. Part of the reason people would say stuff like that to me was mostly because I was a girl. I was the oldest too, so I was expected to marry rich, find a good husband, and continue the family legacy. Not, run away at 15 and join an agency, where I could potentially die. Which is also a bad thing according to my family, since because I was the oldest I was their heir, or something like that.
I was so consumed in my self deprecating thoughts, that I didn't notice we had arrived until Anthony leaned over asking, "Is this really your family's house?" he asked, seemingly shocked by the estate and the rather vast size.
I let out a long sigh, "Yup, this is it," I confirmed, opening my door, leaving the car and walking towards the door.
"I knew you said your family was well off, but that seemed to have been an understatement," he said, breathing out a laugh at how big my family's place was.
Moving towards the front door, I take out my keys, unlocking the door, "Well my family had a decent amount of wealth on both sides, which then basically doubled when my grandparents married, then again when my mom and dad married. Then when the problem came around, they were some of the first people to create flares specialized for ghost hunting. Once that made a shit ton of profit, they then sold it making even more, so yeah my family is fucking loaded," I exclaimed, bitterly adding the last part as I unlocked the door.
"Seems like the next seven generations of your family are set for life," he joked, leaning against the wall.
I let out a small laugh, "Try more like ten maybe," I added, opening the door to the place, "And, this is only the east wing we're in. Wait till you see the entire main house."
His eyes went wide at my mention of this only being part of the place, "If this is only part of it, I can't even imagine the rest of the house," he said, in utter amazement of how my family lived.
I opened the door, letting us in as I turned on the lights, "Well, make yourself at home," I told him, walking toward the stairs in the front to head to the bedroom, "This part is actually quite small. Only two bedrooms, or actually more like one. I turned the other one into my own little space for random hobbies, so there's only one bedroom, but it'll be fine," I said, realizing we would be in the same room.
Climbing up the staircase in the entryway, we reached the 2nd floor, turning left towards the bedroom. The room was fairly big, there was a fireplace, a couple couches, a bay window, a desk covered in papers and pens I left, and the massive bed in the middle. Of course the room was painted my favorite color, and had some of the decorations I left. Alongside the posters on my wall that I didn't take down when I ran away.
I watched as Anthony took in the room, "This feels like a toned down version of you," he said, since my room at home was comprised of my favorite color walls that I begged Anthony to let me paint, more decorations than were in here which was saying something since my old room here was still somewhat fully decorated, posters on all the walls, and my room at home always had fresh flowers, since Anthony would buy them for me, even though I never asked him to.
"Well I couldn't take all my stuff when I left, so a lot of it stayed here," I told him, finally walking into the room, after just leaning against the doorway.
Anthony looked at me, then the floor, then me again, "If you don't mind me asking," he started, clearing his throat before continuing, "Why did you leave a place like this?"
I could feel myself partially freeze. I told him that I hadn't really told anyone else, but I never told him anything about why I left, or my family before I ran.
Taking in a deep breath I finally spoke, "I think that's a story for another time. Plus you have a job to get ready for," I told him, changing the subject.
He nodded, not pushing any further, "I should probably start heading out. I'll go call a cab," he said, moving closer to me before leaving, "Have fun, and don't worry about anything, okay," he told me, grabbing me by my waist, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. He rarely ever did this, only when he knew I was anxious or sad.
"Okay," I said, taking a calming breath in and out.
He then left, calling a cab, leaving when it arrived. I could hear the door close and that was when I knew I was alone for a little bit before my family showed up.
Usually before something big like this they liked to spend the day out. Letting the cooks and the rest of the staff prepare, undisturbed by my family's loudness. I took this time to unpack my clothes into the dresser, since I was gonna be here for a couple of days. Tonight was our families dinner, then tomorrow night was the actual party, and the day after would be when the immediate family stays and just congratulates my sister as we all prepare to make our departure for those leaving.
***
It had been about an hour since Anthony left when my family started to arrive. I could see through my window them entering the house, filling in one after the other. My sister getting married was a big deal to them, so everyone from my mom and dad's siblings, to their cousins, to my cousins, to great aunts twice removed, was here to celebrate.
I took a big sigh before heading down to the main house where everyone was. Making sure I looked good enough in my fairly new black dress, smoothing down my hair, and having to tone down my makeup since I was supposed to look like I wasn't wearing anything to create some illusion, or something. I don't actually know, I didn't pay attention when my mom was talking about that.
Opening the door basically alerted everyone of my presence. I entered the reception room where everyone was hanging around in, having a few drinks, and making the same small talk to the people they could and couldn't tolerate.
The first to notice me was my sister who came running at me, as if I had come back from the dead, "Oh I'm so glad you're here," she exclaimed, squeezing me so hard I think she forgot that I had to breathe.
"I'm happy to be here too, especially for you," I said, though she knew the first part was a lie, but definitely not the second part.
She finally pulled back, her eyes widening in happiness, "You have to meet my fiancé," she practically screamed, with a smile so big I'm surprised her face didn't hurt.
I smiled too, since her smile was always infectious, "I will soon, let me just make my way around the room before grandma writes me out the will for not greeting her the second I walk in," I joke, since I was probably actually already written out of multiple wills for running away.
"Okay, okay, I'll let you go, but you have too. Plus I think she'd rather give the dead hamster in the backyard more than us when she dies," my sister adds jokingly, referring to the hamster we had to bury when I was 7 and she was 5.
I take a deep breath, starting to move around the room. The second I see champagne, I quickly grab a glass to help encourage me to stay here and not just run out. Like I said, I started by greeting my grandma on my dad's side, who mentioned how I was 'too muscular' since I was an agent and being in top condition was basically a requirement if you don't like dying. My grandma on my mom's side was actually a lot nicer. Complimenting my hair, asking who my stylist was. She was never horrible, we just didn't talk much since her and my mom didn't get along well. My grandpa on my mom's side was nice too, admiring how I was an agent, and how I was in his words 'saving the world' which I thought was an overstatement.
Next came all the aunts and uncles. If I was lucky I could avoid the bad ones, or keep the small talk to a minimum, only spending time with the decent ones. On my dad's side I had three aunts and one uncle who were blood related. I caught up on some of my family's life from two of my aunts, and got more comments on how 'they could never possibly work such a vigorous job' and how 'I will one day realize how I made the wrong decision. I left those two quickly, heading to my favorite aunt who greeted me with open arms.
She filled me in on the actual family drama, who was mad at who, who divorced who, who was seeing who. She was an amazing aunt, and the only I truly remembered fully by name, the others I only really remembered when asked, or if they were at an event with me. But my aunt Kathy was amazing and always slipped me a couple of extra bucks, or nice shoes.
Soon I had to leave her and head towards more of my mom's side. My mom's side was...well...scary to say the least. They very much believed that I shouldn't be working, especially in a job like being an agent, so I knew I was in for some passive aggressive comments. My mom's side had three uncles, one of them being adopted, and two aunts who were like Madeline and Louise. They always gossiped, but not in a fun way like my aunt Kathy. More in a deceitful way, both of them were on their 4th divorce. I stopped keeping track at some point. Both talked about how my job was a crazy thing to do, and how they remember their teenage rebellious phase.
I left them before I got a headache, moving onto talking with my uncles. Besides that the two blood ones were a tad misogynistic, they were okay. They mostly talked about business, and how sales for equipment for agents was at an all time high, to which I just smiled and nodded, not really knowing what they were talking about.
The adopted one was my favorite uncle. While he wasn't blood related, he was the best in the family. He was always joking, and talked about how his sister was also an agent before losing her talent and becoming a secretary. We talked for a little bit till I spotted the person I was looking for.
My cousin Jade. I found her semi-hidden behind a plant, holding two glasses of champagne, mouthing the words to 'Maneater' as she hid her device that was playing the music she was listening to. I walked up behind her asking, "Are you listening to Maneater at a family party," which startled her.
"Christ, I thought you were one of the aunts coming to scold me," she said, relieved it wasn't one of our aunts, "And yes, it was. Its better than listening to stuffy small talk all night."
"You're not wrong," I said, agreeing with her statement, "Then again, drinking the fountain water is better than small talk." We continued our conversation for a while till we were all called for dinner.
The main dining room was big enough for both my mom and dad's side, plus their partners, and some of the older cousins from each side. The younger kids were sent to the other smaller dining room, where they were served their own stuff, and away from all the adult talk.
Dinner started off somewhat nicely. I stayed talking to Jade, who was next to me, my grandma from my dad's side on my other side, but she ignored me for the most part. Everything was going great, conversation was flowing, the food was nice, and everyone was giving my sister nice compliments and congratulations.
It was perfect, until it wasn't. My grandma who I was sitting next to had to pipe up and say, "You should take less food, no man would want someone built like you," while I was grabbing another piece of chicken.
Almost everyone either quieted down or went silent as her voice projected through the room. My uncle soon defended me, "There's no need to talk like that, let the girl eat." Sadly though that wasn't the end of that.
"Well, if we let her keep being like that then no man will marry her. Especially at this age, her sister is already getting married, and she doesn't even have a boyfriend," she said, meaning every word she said. I was only 20, my sister was 19. It was a one almost two year gap, yet she was still getting married young and before me. I chose my career over marriage, something I apparently wasn't supposed to do but did anyway.
Now others started talking. My two gossiping aunts said how, "Someone would probably marry me. I have to do something once my "talent" fades," putting talent in air quotes, as if my ability was nothing, or how, "Maybe he won't be rich like she was supposed to marry, but maybe she can trick some somewhat handsome guy."
"She's the one who's supposed to inherit their fortune?"
"I'd rather live in a swamp than look like her."
"At least I can get a boyfriend, and not have a job. She can't even get one and her job is just sad." My cousins said, insulting me like I wasn't there.
Everything felt surreal. I could feel Jade rubbing my arm trying to comfort me as she was talking to me, and on the other side of me was my grandma berating me for basically just existing. All the chatter around me of everyone pointing out my mistakes, and how I wasn't married felt overwhelming, making me want to cry.
What was worse though was how my parents didn't say anything. At least my sister tried to shush people and get them to stop. My parents did nothing though, maybe even added to the chatter.
I eventually got up, leaving the room. Tears stinging my eyes, the feeling almost as bad as the one my family made me feel. Jade tried grabbing my arm to get me to not leave, but she let me go, not following so i could have my space.
The second I walked into my part of the house and into my room, I could feel the tears pouring. I was leaning against my bed, trying to let everything process fully.
I didn't think I was that bad looking. I was usually complimented on my style or looks, even hit on once or twice, which I really didn't like, but still I thought I was still decent looking. My job wasn't the worst either. Especially at my age, most agents lost their talent by now, but I still had mine and it was working better than ever. Yet, no matter how much I tried to reassure myself, their comments still got to me.
I didn't even hear Anthony enter the house, or even my room. But the next thing I knew, he was right in front of me, holding me, asking what was wrong. I told him everything. I don't think I'd seen someone more shocked before.
He shook his head, looking me in my eyes, "Your family is wrong. You're gorgeous, don't listen to them," he said, trying to comfort me, "And, you're one of the best agents in the world, and I say that with full confidence. You're amazing, please don't listen to them darling." He held me for a little bit longer, continuing to comfort me.
Soon he got up, getting ready for bed, as I did the same. We got situated in bed for the night. There was only one bed, but we decided to be mature about it and just sleep in the same bed. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, and it's just for two nights.
We were originally somewhat far apart from each other, before I turned towards him, "Anthony," I said, my voice rather small.
He turned towards me, "Yes, darling," he said, his voice low and tired.
I took a breath before I asked, "Did you really mean what you said?" thinking that maybe he only said it to be nice.
"I meant every word, love," he told me, moving his hand to wrap around my waist pulling me close to him, "Why don't you get some sleep. Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it in the morning," he told me.
I didn't know what he meant, but I was tired from the day's events, and drifted off into sleep in his arms. He held me close the entire night, my head on his chest, with his arms wrapped around my waist.
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