#and i also can't have music on because i've got to hear the words to make captions and i don't want to keep flipping between photoshop and

[dovveri]

strike a pose

synopsis: momo’s the best photographer in korea and she’ll be taking your pictures for the annual haute couture magazine

warnings: swearing, 69, mutual masturbation, filming during sex, taking pictures during sex, reader has a praise kink

w/c: 4.6k

a/n: can be read as a standalone but also follows directly from sana’s part

⌞ ⌝

"momo!"

a pretty girl with bright blonde hair pokes her head out from around the corner, eyes brightening when she sees her assistant with you in tow.

"come in! i've been expecting you! y/n right? sana told me all about you!"

"s-she did?" you gulp nervously, unsure of what exactly sana told the world-class photographer.

momo grins, "enough anyway. c'mon- let's get you changed. we've got quite a few shots i want to try out today. sana really outdid herself with the outfits this time. i can't help but think she was a little more inspired than usual." there's a teasing lilt to her voice, like she knows something you don't.

you can only allow yourself to be ushered along as hands start pulling at your clothes, makeup brushes touch up your face, and hair rollers are placed into your curls.

after your appointment with sana, she had managed to get your contact number, either through your agency or whatever else. it was mainly just for business though, she’d ask for your opinions on certain colours or ideas she had, treating you as if she didn’t fuck you senseless in her workshop upon your first meeting. you just took her lead and pretended it never happened, though every time her name lit up your phone screen you’d feel a little tingle down your spine at the memory.

"alright! let's get going team we have a lot of shots to take today!" you hear momo's stern yet excitable voice over the pop music in the studio. momo's reputation was just as prestigious as sana's, though she was admittedly a lot less intimidating. people said it was because of her general airy obliviousness that made models feel at ease and comfortable when posing for her that made her a pleasure to work with. of course, that never diminished from her actual job at hand, she was the best photographer in korea, always booked out and only shooting for the best magazines and companies across the country. she could be a little awkward but her work spoke volumes, she was simply better at communicating with her tool than with her words.

you're rushed over in your first outfit of the day, an extravagant, floral piece with a set full of colour and vibrancy. once all the stylists are done touching you up and hurriedly move out of the camera frame, momo wanders up last, smiling and adjusting your body to her desired position.

her touch is soft, barely there, it leaves goosebumps on your skin, or maybe it was the fact that the a/c was on high.

"alright?" she checks in on you, eyes twinkling.

you gulp from her proximity, the only thing separating your bodies the camera hanging around her neck. you nod sheepishly, unsure of yourself.

she smiles, "just let me know if you want to take a break or anything yeah? remember you're the most important person in the room here, if we don't have a model, we don't have pictures, so don't be afraid to make any demands at all."

you nod again, not trusting your own voice to speak, but you appreciated momo being so accommodating of you.

with that, she steps back, holds the camera up to her face, and starts taking photos.

⌞ ⌝

momo isn't the type of photographer to yell out compliments or directions while she's working. she stays quiet most of the time, only asks you to keep natural and do whatever feels comfortable. it's not awkward though, you could tell how focused she got when she was working, how much effort she put into her job, what a perfectionist she was.

soon enough, you've run through all but one of the outfits and backdrops, the swimsuit segment.

your hair is being curled into wavy, ocean-swept locks when the stylists pull out the skimpiest bikini you've ever seen. after they're done clipping together the pieces, some of them even have the shame to look away despite having seen you in all your naked glory multiple times during the shoot. you thought it was a piece that was perfectly reflective of its maker. covering almost nothing yet leaving everything to be desired, teasing in the most erotic way imaginable.

the studio has already been cold enough with the air-conditioning on full blast, but now with the new beach backdrop and a mist fan blowing directly on your body and face to give your hair the appearance of being freshly blown through with a sea breeze, you're near shivering.

it doesn't help the chills going down your spine every time momo glances over at you. and momo makes it known when she likes something and when she doesn't. and the way she was stalking towards you like you were her prey, her eyes dragging over your body again and again, licking her lips, until she's almost nose to nose with you, it was pretty safe to assume she liked what she saw.

"alright?" her voice is husky, like she's controlling herself from doing something not so work-friendly.

you can only nod, breath hitching.

"hmm... are you sure? you don't look alright."

"h-how do i look?"

she gives you a devilish glare, "i don't think you want me to answer that y/n."

"why n-not?"

she leans in even more, you almost close your eyes out of habit before you realise she's breathing next to your ear, voice low, only meant for you, "is that how we're playing this? you're gonna act stupid? or... do you have a praise kink y/n? want me to tell you what a pretty girl you are? to tell you about how i think you look absolutely succulent and how badly i want a taste? how i want you riding my face with your perfect tits swinging back and forth while you leak into my mouth, my camera set up recording every movement, every sound, every scream you'll be making because of my tongue? is that what you want to hear?"

your ears were always sensitive, even momo breathing near them has you squirming and the inside of your bikini bottoms soaked. you whimper as she whispers filth into them, feeling light-headed and desperately needing to hold onto her or you'd be at danger of falling over and exposing just what she made you feel to all of her staff.

she smirks, turning on her heel quickly and barking , "out! everyone out! good job today but I'll be finishing up these final shots myself. thank you all for your hard work."

her staff exchange glances a little uncertainly, never having been told to leave early by momo before, so they were unsure if that was what momo really meant.

momo tuts impatiently, "did you not hear me? pack up! let's go!"

her staff are prompted into movement, hastily running around and collecting their personal items before bowing out of the studio. momo glares down anyone that looks to be dawdling for too long, tapping her foot and ensuring her studio was empty before turning back to you.

you gulp, grateful the makeup on your face was covering the bright red blush on your cheeks. you both knew what was going to happen. it was a little absurd this was happening to you a second time when both times it's been 2 of the most influential people in the fashion industry. you're still in disbelief that they wanted you.

momo eyes you again with a smirk, fully appreciating you without the burden of her staff bustling around and calling for her attention in the background.

"alright gorgeous. let's do some standing poses first. whatever makes you feel the most confident."

you nod, taking in her direction and pushing one hip out, raising both arms to mess around with your hair, face morphing into a practiced smile, going for the sexy, energetic woman on the beach.

momo starts snapping away, humming and checking the photos every now and then, there were a few she took from certain angles that were a little... questionable, but you weren't one to question, so you let her do whatever her creative freedom asked her to.

"now can you lean forward? hands on your knees please."

you blush, this was a classic swimsuit stance, it would be fine, there was nothing to be shy about.

you do as she asks, switching your happy-go-lucky smile to one that’s a little more seductive.

momo takes a second to raise the camera to her eye, staring at your chest like she had lagged out. but once she does, she’s back to work, making sure she gets all the best shots.

“now lie down. on your side.”

you gulp, following her instructions. momo moves the fan to be at your face level, so it’s still blowing through your hair. she lingers a little, adjusting your face, hand on your chin. her eyes are stormy, the hint of a smirk permanently etched onto her lips. her hands drift from your chin, down to your shoulder, gliding fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breath hitches audibly when she slips down to your side. she hums approvingly, her smirk growing as she traces your side, your stomach.

then she slides backwards, leans back on her knees and brings the camera back up to her eyes. you’re caught as her shirt lifts, her very visible abs peeking through.

momo clears her throat, “camera’s up here darling.”

you lick your lips, not even needing to fake your next look, reeking of pure sex. all you can think about is momo’s abs, her thighs, the way her knees are spread, her biceps, her well-endowed chest, all that muscle she was packing underneath a teasing smile.

she takes the picture.

then she’s the one leaning forward, going on all fours, crawling towards you slowly.

you hold your breath as she reaches you, nudging your hip lightly so you’re lying horizontally. and then she’s hitching a leg over your side and sitting on top of you.

your hands instinctively go to her hips but she catches them, pushing them above your head, her chest smothering your face in the process.

she leans back too soon, bringing the camera to her face, adjusting herself to sit better on your hips. “there we go. you’re a pretty girl.”

you blush brightly at her comment, looking away shyly. she starts snapping immediately, grinning. you compose yourself and look back towards the camera, biting your lip, drooping your eyes, satisfied when you hear the stutter in momo's work before she starts clicking again.

once she's happy with those shots, she moves off your body, but keeps a hand on your stomach to keep you there, pushing down slightly letting you know who was directing you, who owned you. then she's propping up a beach ball, or an umbrella, you couldn't really tell you were too focused on the way her abs tensed as she lifted and shuffled things around.

she leans you back, then slides her hands down from your stomach to your thighs, pushing gently.

your eyes widen, unable to resist as she spreads your legs, licking her lips as she stares.

“m-momo.”

“hmm?”

“um- the- the photos?”

she clicks her tongue, “impatient are we? just let me enjoy the view for a little.” her eyes track back up your body, smirking at the hooded look you give her, breaths coming in and out visibly harder, your arousal too obvious to ignore.

after what feels like forever sitting in your own slick, she finally moves backwards, bringing that goddamn camera back to her face, her smirk only growing wider with each passing second, before she starts to click.

she takes a few shots, then feigns disapproval, frowning down at her camera in the most exaggerated pout you have ever seen, so you know it’s just for show.

“y/nnnnn~” it’s cute, too cute. “i don’t like these. will you… spice it up a little?”

you take a breath before responding, steadying yourself, “spice it up?”

“yeah. y’know…”

“…i-i don’t.”

momo’s expression changes immediately, scowling, her cutesy show over in a flash, “don’t be a brat y/n. you know what i’m talking about. you think i can’t see you dripping for me? you think i can’t see the way you’re squirming, how you’re imagining the way i’d feel under you, inside you? don’t make me spell it out for you. be a good girl and do what you want to do.”

she's completely right of course. her words only encourage the thoughts you've been keeping locked away since the moment you saw her. you didn't think it was professional for this to happen a second time, hell the first time you didn't think it was professional.

but you gulp, hesitantly bring your hands down to your stomach, tracing the skin there lightly. you feel your nails dig in just lightly and you gasp, hyperaware of your body and all its sensations. the cool air of the room, that fucking fan that's been blowing wet mist at you for the past 20 minutes, momo. god momo. she was so fucking hot. in that sleazy, greasy, nice-guy way straight girls found film bros hot. except momo had the face and body to match the arrogance she hid under practiced professionalism and niceties.

you whimper as a hand trails up and captures a breast.

momo grins, bringing her camera back up to her eye, more vocal now than she has been the entire photoshoot.

"there we go. now we're getting somewhere."

you feel your breaths go heavier, no longer able to hide yourself as you ache to rub your thighs together.

she notices of course. she notices everything about your body.

"don't you fucking dare. tease yourself. make it worth it. make yourself earn it."

you try and take a breath to steady yourself again, though you don't know why, each breath hasn't been helping at all, only making the matter worse as you become more and more aware of your arousal.

with difficulty, you bring your other hand to your chest, now groping both your tits, moaning fully, completely on display for her while she snaps away.

"there we go- that's good- more like that- mhmm-"

momo mumbles praises and compliments that make your head dizzy and your pussy clench. your fingers find two hard nubs that have been begging for attention since you had gotten in this glorified piece of cloth. you pinch simultaneously and let out a pathetic sound of lust.

momo gets it all on camera. zooms in even.

knowing you had an audience, that this was being recorded, it gave you a sick sort of thrill that made each squeeze of your hands feel that much better, each click of momo's finger, like she was rubbing your clit with each photo.

one hand slips under the bikini top, doesn't reveal it to the camera, but it's obvious where it is, pulling and twisting as you writhe, legs shaking, sweat collecting, desire building.

momo comes closer, sits right between your legs, keeps them open, captures your face mid-moan, anyone could hear the pornographic sounds you were making without needing film, the pictures momo took were enough. she was that good.

the heat of another person near you makes you grow desperate. "m-momo- p-please- i- i- i need-"

"hmm? what do you need darling? tell me. remember i said you're the most important person in the room. without you, we don't have pictures, without you, i don't have a job. so, what do you need?"

"y-you! please-"

"me? what do you want me to do to for you?" she cocks her head, acts confused, you know better.

"w-what you said e-earlier! p-please i'm please- i'm begging-"

"oh you're begging? why are you doing that? i'll give you anything you want darling. there's no need to beg. do you think i'm that mean?" she pouts, has the audacity to look completely innocent even while she has you under her, dripping onto the floors of her studio, hands groping at your chest, back arching trying to get closer to her.

"m-momo!"

"what?!"

you almost cry, sliding your right hand down your stomach, straight into your bikini bottoms, the waterproof material did it's job too well. you couldn't tell from the outside, but the inside, it was drenched. you moan as your fingers meet your folds.

momo doesn't even glance down, keeps staring at you in mock ignorance.

you slide a finger up and down your slit, gritting your teeth as you rub your clit harshly. too harsh, you would come too soon. you ease up, sliding back down to your entrance, hips bucking up, other hand still twisting at a nipple.

snap!

you roll your head back as your hips rock against your hand, letting her slide down and position herself right in front of your cunt, lens pointed directly at it. you can't look at her, too embarrassed as you push your fingers in and out of yourself, just centimeters away from her face, from her instrument.

you've been groping at your chest enough that the material has ridden up, half of your chest exposed to the studio, to the flashing lights at each click of momo's fingers, and fuck you needed more space. so you hastily pull at the strings tying the bottoms together, just one side while your other hand keeps pumping in and out of you. it falls away easily and you feel yourself clench around your own fingers at the gasp momo lets out, snaps growing quicker in succession.

the hand that untied your bottoms goes right back to your neglected tit, rubbing and squeezing while you hump your hand.

you risk a glance down, and you almost cum at the sight.

momo's got one hand on her camera, the other down her pants.

it's a little pathetic, the way she's grinding down on herself, trying to alleviate the tension that's built up in her lower stomach, such a pretty girl reduced to a horny loser at the sight of pussy, but it gets you so hot knowing she was affected by you.

your eyes focus in on the hand trapped between the floor and her cunt, the rapid movements giving you an idea of what was going on inside her pants. you start to match her pace, bringing the hand that was palming at your breast to rub at your clit, pushing it around in little circles as you gasp and moan and clench for her.

momo curses under her breath, cheeks flushed as she stays on her stomach, a shaky hand still clicking away, changing settings, zooming in and out, capturing every moment of your build-up.

it was too much, her focus, the way you're pulsing, the flashes of the camera. you cum.

your vision whites out, throwing your head back, unable to hear the little curses momo lets out as she pulls her other hand out of her pants, frantically grabbing for her camera to be able to capture your full glory in your orgasm, her fingers still covered in her own slick, zipper undone as she scrambles to her feet.

you keep pushing in and out of yourself, slowing down the circling on your clit until a full stop, breathing heavily as your vision returns.

you blink, looking around hazily, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a wet squelch.

you find her eventually, stumbling around with her pants fallen to her knees while she fiddles with different cameras and light settings.

your post-orgasm haze finds her adorable. so different to the woman who said she'd have you screaming on top of her tongue. she was unpredictable, your initial canvas of her was wrong. she was simply... momo. she was unique, the only person who could possibly understand her was herself, and you doubted she understood herself. but that didn't matter, because she's good at what she does and she gets what she wants.

she notices you watching her after a little, blushing and kicking off her pants fully.

"sorry y/n just gimme a second."

you smile, shaking your head, "it's alright."

you watch fondly as she finishes up, but with her legs now exposed you can't help but feel the twinge of arousal in your core as your eyes follow the muscles of her thighs, her calves, her ass when she turns and bends. she acts so oblivious but she must know what she's doing.

you sigh, leaning back and running your hands up your stomach again, appreciating the view. you finally take off the bikini top, freeing your chest and groping freely at them as momo stands back up.

she checks the camera once more, then takes off her top. her bra follows quickly after, and she turns.

her eyes narrow as she stalks towards you, chest swinging proudly as you whimper, pinching your nipples and wishing you could just bite down on hers.

"i see you started without me."

"mhmm~"

"i told you to give me a second didn't i?" she stands above you, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts together sinfully. you notice the wet spot on her underwear, trying to hide a giggle but failing.

she raises an eyebrow, pulling her panties off. that gets you to stop, your mouth watering at her cleanly shaven, dripping cunt.

"something funny?"

"n-no."

"c'mon. i like funny things. tell me."

"nothing's funny."

she kneels down in front of you, on all fours, your eyes go straight to her chest.

"impatient and a fucking liar."

you whimper.

she juts a finger behind her, her eyes never leaving yours, "i'm giving you what you wanted now. what i said. that camera's filming us, so are three others around the room, just so we get every angle. now you're gonna sit on my face and look pretty. understand?"

your eyes widen, wet already from your first orgasm, fresh arousal starting to build up. you nod.

"good girl."

you squirm at the term, watching as she lies down, then pulls on your thighs to get you to kneel on top of her. you're a little embarrassed as you lower yourself, but momo doesn't give a shit. she yanks you down and starts eating like it's her last meal.

your hand comes up to your mouth in an automatic reaction, trying to stifle the sinful moan you let out as she starts lapping at you. you can't control yourself. you never could around her. your body reacts on it's own. riding her face.

momo sucks your clit into her mouth and your knees buckle. you're afraid of suffocating her but she shares none of the same concern. arms pulling you down as you try to pull away, licking and suckling.

you look directly into the camera she has set up in front of you, imagining how messed up your hair was, how utterly ruined you looked.

momo's hands are on your ass, pulling you down still, but she lands a slap, the sound echoing throughout the empty photo studio.

you yelp, gushing into her mouth. she happily drinks it up, spanking you again.

the ripple of your cheeks must be captured on the camera behind you, maybe if momo had the quality settings right, it could even see the slick flowing from your cunt into momo's mouth, onto her tongue.

you can't bear to look into the camera anymore, eyes drifting down to momo's chest.

god you could finally see her. pretty dusk-coloured peaks sitting on top of the breasts you'd only be able to conjure up in your wettest dreams. her abs flex as she huffs with effort, making sure not to let a single drop of you go to waste, working efficiently and thoroughly at your pussy, licking into every wall, every corner. her cunt glistens, you notice her thighs rubbing together and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. you do it anyway but only because momo has her tongue inside you, hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

you test her, placing a little more weight on her face. she moans eagerly around you, pulling you down further.

satisfied she can hold you up, you shift your weight onto one hand, the other tracing down momo's chest, circling a nipple.

momo groans, vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure up your core.

you grasp the flesh, squezzing as her tit spills out between your fingers. momo bucks her hips, almost shakes you off of her, but her grip on your ass is tight, she wouldn't be letting you go until you came all over her tongue.

you're still moaning uncontrollably when you lean down, still groping a tit, pressing your own chest against her abs that feel absolutely heavenly flexing under your nipples, rubbing and moving giving just the barest amount of friction that drove you insane.

you grip her thighs, resting the front of your body on hers so you could part them, licking your lips at the sight that greeted you.

her cunt was pulsating. clenching around nothing, slick dribbling out of her. she talked so much but she was just as turned on as you. you planned on giving her what she was too proud to ask for.

you dive in.

momo moans into your cunt, hips rocking up before you push her back down, lapping at her pussy.

she tastes divine. otherworldly. salty and sweet, uniquely hers, just like everything else about her was uniquely hers. momo's grunting and moaning so prettily, and you're cleaning her up, even while she continues making a mess, you know you're not much better.

you grind down against her while she rocks up into you, chasing your highs. you find her clit, sucking, reveling in the moan she sends through your body, not wanting to be beat, she doubles down, growing almost overly aggressive as she sends another slap down on your cheeks when you're least expecting it.

you can't hear each other, can't scream out the curses, her name, all you can do is grind and moan and suck.

the blinking red dot of the camera gets it all. every brush of nipples against stomach, every flick of tongue, every squeeze of ass.

it doesn't take much longer.

not when she just keeps sucking. you're sure she could draw your pussy by now, that she's memorised it all. you could probably draw hers.

your back arches as you cum, and you make sure she falls apart at the same time, massaging her thighs as she writhes and cums, whining into your pussy, drunk off your taste.

you roll off of her before she can get you going again, lying on your back, your elbows pushing you up as you finally get a look at her.

she's covered in you. huffing, throwing her head back to breathe, cum dribbling down her chin. you can't help but crawl towards her, licking it up, towards her lips.

she lets you kiss her, still catching her breath as she pants into your mouth, the taste of the both of you mixing on your tongues.

you break away, licking your lips and wiping your chin.

momo grins lazily, "i think we got some good content."

you snort, "you think?"

"mhmmm. mina will definitely be happy."

your eyes widen, "you're not showing these tapes to myoui mina?!"

"and to sana. she asked for them."

your mouth falls open, gaping dumbly at her while she laughs, patting your cheek.

"let me know if you ever need any shots done. i'll be happy to help. i'll send you the tapes too once it's edited." she winks, wobbling back up and going to check the footage.

you stare after her, still in disbelief that the three of them really were in kahoots this whole time. and then the self-consciousness hits. they were going to watch those tapes. they were probably going to cum to those tapes.

just what the hell kinda industry did you get yourself into?

[breezilis]

something that makes me soooo insane about telemachus in i can't help but wonder (and also in the wider context of epic the musical) is that telemachus says in i can't help but wonder,

"i can't help but wonder what your world must be / if we're like each other, if i have your strength in me / all this time i've wondered if you'd embrace me as your own"

because — for so much of his life, telemachus has probably been told stories about king odysseus, his father, cunning strategist, favored of athena, etc etc, and wanting to live up to that ("i know life and fate are scary, but i wanna be legendary!", "and i would fight them if i was half as strong as you" from legendary)

he has also spent so much of his life being terrorized, and watching his mother being terrorized, by suitors for her hand — and he probably thought "well, FATHER would be able to drive them off!"

and then odysseus does come. and he kills them all.

and. yes. father has finally returned. finally driven them off. but his father also had to save telemachus from melanthius, the one suitor who threatened to "break the kid's hands" to cow odysseus.

there must have been something in telemachus that thought, "ah. so you are exactly as legendary as everything i've ever heard about you, father. and i am...not."

reminder that, in we'll be fine, telemachus says that his time with athena has been the best day of his life "'cause [he] got in a fight and [he] didn't die" — that was probably his first ever fight.

plus, with the way the suitors mock him and speak about him, he's probably VERY AWARE that he is constantly compared to his father, and found lacking.

so of course he's thinking about how his legendary, cunning, kingly father might ALSO compare them, and might come to the same conclusions as everyone else. he might well decide that telemachus would not be WORTHY of being, to borrow telemachus' own words here, "embrace[d] as [odysseus'] own".

of course, odysseus has never once thought about his son as anything other than HIS — "my boy", "my son", "sweetest joy i've known", a driving force to getting him home in the horse and the infant ("penelope, telemachus, i'm on my way") and in keep your friends close where you can hear telemachus as one of the voices urging odysseus to keep his eyes open — but i wonder how long it would take telemachus to really believe that his father isn't disappointed in him, because he has spent TWENTY YEARS being put and putting himself in the shadow of this man — and it might even make him self conscious, that odysseus spent all that effort coming home to his Ideal Family™ only to be met with the reality of what they really are.

i firmly believe that to ody, the reality of his family will always be better than the "ideals" — and that probably ody's "idealized family" is literally just. whatever penelope and telemachus are like now.

but idk. it's just something i feel like they'd have to work through, now that odysseus IS home, and it is just such a consistent part of telemachus' character that i haven't really seen anyone discuss.

[stellamarielu]

hi! I’d like to request Declan x younger reader and they are at a party at his house and he hears someone (maybe even Patrick??) flirting with her so he whisks her away to go dance so he’s the only man who can touch her

like father, like son

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: declan overhears his son flirting with you and he can’t help but get a little possessive

content: 18+, cursing, sexual themes, alludes to smut but no actual smut, jealous declan!!!

author’s note: hey so i went a little rogue on this request my bad. patrick is such a cutie i had to🤭 also why am i incapable of just writing a little blurb lmao. i always end up a with a whole ass oneshot

—

it was the annual o'hara new years eve party that doubled as patrick's birthday celebration and you were pushing your way through the overly crowded foyer of the priory.

that's when patrick saw you, he was convinced he had never seen someone so captivating. he immediately leaned over to his younger sister.

"who the hell is that?" he was yelling over the music.

"oh that's daddy's new assistant!" taggie answered with a bright smile as she watched people dancing in the room ahead of her.

patrick's jaw nearly dropped in shock.

he recalled his father mentioning a new employee being hired to help with all of the prep work for his show, but he just figured it was some dorky, young 20-something desperate to get their foot in the door of the investigative journalism world.

never in a million years had he pictured it to be an intoxicatingly gorgeous young woman.

as soon as he's processed this newfound revelation, patrick's feet are moving in pursuit of his father.

declan was across the room laughing with freddie jones when his son found him.

"there he is. the birthday boy!" wearing a proud smile declan was clapping patrick on the shoulder.

judging by the overbearing greeting, patrick could only guess his father was on his second- maybe third drink of the evening.

"yeah i was hoping for just a minute with you really quick." patrick reached for his dad's shoulder, returning the greeting.

with a quick "happy birthday" to patrick and a friendly gesture to declan, freddie saw himself off to the dance floor.

"you didn't tell me your assistant was hot."

the words are rolling off patrick's tongue the second he's alone with his dad.

"i'm sorry? didn't realize i had to disclose that to you."

declan was laughing– genuinely chuckling, at his son's implied accusation as he took another sip of his drink.

"I mean jesus dad, she's insanely hot. she can't be that much older than me, tell me i've got a chance?"

patrick is speaking to declan but his eyes are scanning the room, hoping to catch another glimpse of you.

declan all but chokes on his drink.

there was no way on earth he would set you up with his son.

obviously it would be innapropriate and unprofessional. you dating his son could only lead to an eventual messy breakup which would just make things awkward at the office.

oh and there was also one other tiny little thing that kept him from wanting to pair the two of you together,

declan had been fucking you for the past three weeks.

the relationship between you and declan may have been a confidential matter, but he was very much enthralled with you. what started as a quick release ended with him begging you for exclusivity. of course you agreed to secretly date the man because you were equally as smitten with him.

so hearing patrick talk so openly about wanting to 'get with you', had him tensing up. declan didn't share and especially not with his son.

"you know I think she may actually have a lad back home now that I think about it." declan is lying through his teeth as he smiles at his son.

"guess i'll go find out."

patrick is patting his dad on the back and throwing him a cheeky wink as his eyes finally find you in the crowd. you’re walking into the kitchen and he’s now trailing off in the same direction.

you had barely entered the room, quiet and hidden away from the rest of the home, when you heard footsteps behind you.

when you turn toward the noise you’re met with a handsome young man with dark curly hair and a gorgeous smile. who was this guy and how on earth had you never noticed him in rutshire before?

"I don't believe we've met." he's extending his hand to you and you find his voice just as charming as his smile.

"no we haven't." your giggling at how upfront the kid is as you shake his hand and give him your name.

"such a lovely name." he's complimenting you, keeping your hand in his. he’s fixated on how delicate your touch is.

"and you are..." you initiate his introduction while he's busy staring at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

"oh god, yeah. uh- patrick." he finally gives you his name at the end of a chuckle.

everything about him is just so endearing. normally guys around your age are repulsive and pretentious but this guy seems so genuine. his eyes are kind and his smile is so adorable and- oh my god. patrick. as in patrick o'hara. the birthday boy. declan's son.

"shit you're declan's son." your outburst has patrick’s eyes wide with amusement.

"oh, it's so nice to finally meet you, he's told me so much about you.”

you're recovering from your embarrassing outburst of realization, laughing at yourself and smiling at the young man in front of you.

you can see the resemblance now; the curly hair, the gentle eyes, the dreamy smile. it was all so declan.

“all good things i hope.” his sweet smile was now somewhat sultry.

“well of course. you’re his pride and joy you know?” your voice was playful. patrick was obsessed.

“please tell me how you ended up working for my father. i can’t imagine how someone as stunning as you is being sent on silly errands and making copies all day.”

if he weren’t so damn cute you would’ve been a little offended by patrick’s comment, but he was only trying to compliment you. his charming demeanor proved to be the motivation behind his words.

“i do a lot more than run errands and make copies.” you say to him with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on your lips.

his smile suddenly drops and you can see him beginning to regret his previous statement.

“sorry that made me sound like such a dick.” his words were rushed and you could tell he felt truly apologetic.

“it’s okay, really. i’m just flattered you called me stunning.”

you were grinning at him, hoping to reassure patrick that he didn’t need to apologize.

“you are stunning. breathtaking actually.”

he’s taking a step toward you and your body instantly freezes.

“i noticed you the minute you walked in. couldn’t take my eyes off you.” his tone is enticing- almost sensual, but his facial expression is still so warm and kind.

you’re both locked in on one another when you hear someone clear their throat in the doorway. you take a step back from patrick, a little too quickly.

declan comes waltzing into the kitchen, an empty glass in his hand.

“well if it isn’t my favorite assistant and my favorite son.” he’s smiling to himself as he strides across the room, barely paying the two of you any attention.

“sorry to interrupt.”

he doesn’t sound very apologetic as he opens the cupboard and retrieves a half empty bottle of expensive looking liquor.

“caitlin’s out there looking for you, i told her i’d hunt you down.” he’s eyeing patrick as he pours himself another glass of whiskey.

“okay uh yeah.” patrick is fumbling over his words as he looks between you and his dad.

“i’ll find you later yeah?” he’s giving you a hopeful gaze as he gently touches your forearm.

“sounds good.” you reply giving him one last smile as he turns to leave.

declan waits until his son is long gone before he speaks.

“looks like patrick’s got the hots for ya.” he’s stalking toward you with a devilish grin on his face.

“must run in the family.” he’s chuckling darkly at his own joke as he stands just inches away from you.

“very funny.” your voice is dripping with sarcasm.

your remark has declan bringing his hands to your hips, pulling you into his broad chest.

“i’m not surprised though. i think every man in this town would flirt with you if given the chance.”

with his hands still on your hips you can feel him swaying to whatever song was coming from the next room over.

you reach up, slinging your arms around his neck. the two of you dancing sweetly to the slow beat of the music.

“he’s a good kid.” your head is resting on declan and you can feel his words like a hum on his chest.

“maybe you’d be better off with him.” declan’s words are quiet as they leave his mouth.

you pull away from his chest but keep your arms in their place on his shoulders. leaning back just enough to look at him in the eyes, you give him a stern stare.

“shut up declan.”

“i’m serious. he’s nice and gentle. would probably be good for you to be with someone like that.” he was looking off in the distance as he talked, your bodies still swaying side to side.

“maybe i don’t want gentle.” the words trickle from your lips like honey.

the second he hears the purr of your voice declan’s eyes are on yours. he’s peering down at you and the look on your face is pure sugar. god he can’t get enough of you.

“maybe i want someone older, someone more mature.”

your looking up at him as you talk, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. he can’t help the weight that lifts from his shoulders and the smile that takes over his face.

“maybe i want someone who’s not afraid to be rough with me.”

at those words declan feels something stirring in his chest– or maybe his pants.

you can feel his grip on your hips tighten as his eyes stay trained on yours. his gaze is spellbinding.

“i don’t think your son could fuck me the way i like to be fucked.”

you see declan’s eyes darken when he hears your whisper.

he lifts one of his hands from your hips in order to move your hair, bringing it all to one shoulder, leaving the other one fully exposed. he leans down and places a soft kiss right at the base of your neck, dangerously close to your collar bone.

your tilting your head in pleasure and soaking in the warmth of his lips on your skin when you feel him gently bite down in the same spot.

the stinging sensation of his teeth on your neck has you instinctively clenching your thighs together.

“i’m the only one who can fuck you the way you like to be fucked sweetheart.”

his voice is deep and rich as you feel his breath on your neck.

you’re just about to beg declan to take you into one of the many bedrooms in his house and ruin you; but he abruptly pulls away from you, detaching your bodies.

“let’s go celebrate the birthday boy shall we.”

his voice is normal, like he wasn’t about to take you on his kitchen counter two seconds ago.

“i have a feeling he might be waiting for a dance with you.” declan is smirking and holding his hand out to escort you back into the party.

you left the kitchen with one thought in your brain, declan was the only o’hara man for you.

my masterlist

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Boyfriend's Best friend | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Like the embers shared between you and your boyfriend's bestie, boundaries are burned away until there's nothing but smoke and ash. Can you come back from being too badly burned by the mistake you two made? Or will the bitter taste remain, ruining everything?

•Pairings: Han Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, heavy use of weed, betrayal, lies, secrets, regret, heartbreak, college au, friends to ?

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

Your boyfriend of one year is cheating on you.

You knew that; he just doesn't know that you know. Even his best friend knows you know, but out of respect for your wishes, he's kept quiet. Why? Because despite Danny and Jisung being inseparable since diapers, Jisung has been a true friend to you since you met Danny at the coffee shop years ago. Jisung isn't just someone you share music theory class with; he's also the vocalist and lead guitarist of the band Respirator, where you play the drums.

So you've got an alliance with Jisung. He was there for you the night you found out. Alone in the campus auditorium, you texted Jisung. Your first instinct was to call your best friend Ana, but interrupting her date with Chris was out of the question. Jisung stayed with you in that cold, creepy theater and let you cry into his chest for hours. He just couldn't understand why you continued to stay, why you continued to let Danny fuck you, knowing he's fucking someone else. He knew where his friend was before he'd come back to their shared apartment and yet he'd hear your moans through the poorly insulated walls.

“I have no excuse for him, Y/N. He's an asshole for playing you like this. I've tried to get him to see the error of his ways, but fuck… he's only thinking with his dick,” Jisung says, shaking his head and glancing at his friend who's fast asleep on the couch.

A night of forgotten textbooks and study notes overtaken by weed, beer, and pizza has knocked your boyfriend out cold. You don't look in the direction of the couch; instead, you inhale the hot smoke from the joint between your fingers, letting your head fall back before blowing the smoke into the air. You lay down on the hard cedarwood floor, your foot lightly bumping one of the many pillows piled up in one corner where Jisung sits.

“Yeah, there's no point in talking to him, Ji. He'll only do what he wants, not what's right,” you say, taking another hit and passing it over to Jisung.

Your fingers brush when he reaches for it, and you feel tempted to crawl over to him so he can hug the numb feeling in your chest away. You could use some genuine affection after watching Danny sneak off earlier with the excuse of needing to speak to his Tech professor. But if Mr. Campbell has turned into a little blonde with pigtails and a short pink skirt, then he most definitely wasn't in a meeting with his professor.

The little blonde… you don't even know who she is or if she even goes to college. The only thing you know is that you are nothing like her. Where her wardrobe is probably ninety percent pink, yours is ninety percent black. Typical style of a girl in a band: your jeans have rips in them and are either too tight or too loose. Your shirts are a bit of the same; sometimes they hug the curves of your breasts and waist, other times they swallow you up. Your thoughts are heavy in your smoky, hazy mind, and the soft strumming from Jisung's guitar sets the ambiance of your momentary self-pity.

“Maybe I should change up my style, Ji. Do you think then he might love me again?”

God, that sounds awful, you think as soon as the words leave your mouth. You cover your face with your hands and then drape them over your stomach. The baggy My Chemical Romance band tee has bunched up, and your midsection feels the occasional breeze from the open window, making you shiver.

“Nah, Y/N, don't think that. Your style is what makes you, you. If he can't see how hot you are no matter what you wear, then that's his problem, not yours,” Jisung says seriously.

You hear him suck in the smoke and exhale slowly. With heavy lids, you turn your head to the side and look at him. He smiles as his fingers glide over the strings of his fiery red guitar, his eyes half-lidded and pink with a lazy smile.

“Thanks, Ji,” you mumble and return the equally lazy smile.

He keeps his eyes on you, his gaze lingering longer than usual, and it unexpectedly makes your pulse race. There's something about his eyes that has always had a hypnotic effect on you. Siren eyes, they lure you in, making it impossible to escape unless he lets his gaze drop. He closes his eyes when the smoke threatens to get in them, breaking the hold you weren’t even aware he had on you.

The joint hangs from his lips, a thin trail of smoke billowing up around the rim of his hat and curling toward the ceiling. He inhales slowly, the smoke filling his lungs before he exhales and opens his eyes, watching the way you look at him. So laid-back with that dreamy expression on your face, his thoughts betray him for the third time tonight. An image created from smoke appears in his mind: you're looking at him exactly the way you are now, only you're on your knees as he cradles your face in his hands, fucking himself into your warm mouth. That’s the tamest fantasy he's had tonight. The others are far more explicit, like scenes pulled straight from a hentai.

Throughout the night, Jisung struggled to focus on any of his study material. It wasn't just because he was mentally drained from studying. Sure, that was part of it, but the sight of you chewing on your lush pink lips while you went over your notes for music theory kept distracting him. They looked so soft and your constant chewing made them red and puffy. He wondered if you dug your teeth into the flesh just like that when Danny was inside you. He couldn't help but picture you whimpering and whining past your trapped bottom lip while he drilled his dick into your sweet pussy. He already knows what you sound like so it's not hard to imagine the faces you would make.

He couldn't shake the image of those same lips of yours being covered in his warm, sticky cum. His imagination was too vivid with you right in front of him and the weed from the gummy he ate before you and Danny showed up. He had been rock hard and throbbing for hours, making studying beyond frustrating. It turned into a battle with his own mind. So he was more than happy to welcome the smoke sesh. Sure, he felt a bit guilty for daydreaming about his buddy's girl, but it's not like he'd ever act on it. It's all just harmless thoughts, he told himself. It's not like he was in love with you or anything… he just found you to be the embodiment of perfection in human form. Seriously, Danny calls you Jisung's twin more times than you're aware, so it's natural for him to think of you as the coolest chick he's ever met. You wouldn't be in the band he created if he didn't think highly of you.

“You want another hit?” he asks, holding the joint out to you with his index finger and thumb.

Your eyes lock onto his hands, noticing the multiple silver rings that decorate each of his long fingers and the veins that crisscross the back of his. More times than you can count you've heard girls talking about how sexy his hands were and you never noticed how right they are until now. Noticing the way his fingers loosely wraps around the neck of the guitar, your brain goes to the gutter and starts wondering if that's how he holds his cock when he's jerking off to the sound of you getting fucked. You know he does it. You could see it in his face one day when you bumped into him on the way to the bathroom. His hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks were flushed and the large swallow he made when your bodies connected told you what he was doing in the next room.

With a slow nod, you sit up and move closer and take it from him, your fingers brushing against his again only this time there's something that passes between you but you ignore it, bringing the joint to your lips and taking a deep drag.

You inhale deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs before you exhale slowly, watching the tendrils curl into the air. You feel the heat, the burn of the smoke and it feels almost euphoric. The room feels warmer, cozier, and everything with your boyfriend is forgotten for now with more thc in you. Jisung watches you, completely captivated by the way you wrap your lips around the filter end gently and suck in the smoke. His eyes darken for just a second before he pats the space in front of him on the floor.

“Come here, I'll teach you the basics,” he says, his voice low and inviting.

“Really?” you ask excitedly after taking another puff and setting the joint into the ashtray. He chuckles, nodding with a large smile your way.

You close the distance, settling between his legs with your back to his front and it feels like the most normal natural thing in the world. He hands you the instrument resting it in your lap, and his arms encircle you as he guides your hands to the strings. The heat of his body seeps into yours, and you can feel his breath against your neck, slow and even. His breath is warm, smelling faintly of the weed you just shared, and sugary soda that's oddly comforting to you.

“What song do you want to play?” he asks, his voice a soft hush against your ear. The sensation to your ear and the deep rumble on your back from when he speaks, makes you shiver involuntarily.

You think for a moment, your mind swimming through the smoky haze and then you smile. "Thinking Out Loud?" you say phrasing it like a question.

He chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. "Ah, my man Sheeran. Good choice, y/n. Not gonna lie, I thought you'd pick one of our songs." he murmurs, taking your hand in his and begins to guide your fingers over the strings.

The notes are clumsy at first, your movements unsure but Jisung is patient, his hands steady as he teaches you the chords. You giggle softly as you fumble through the chords, “Good thing I'm a drummer. This is harder than it looks.” You say with a laugh and Jisung’s laughter mingles with yours.

His hands are warm and strong, his touch firm but gentle. He's the perfect guitar teacher, kind and informative. Once you start to get the hang of playing, he lets you play on your own, his arms still loosely around you, elbows resting on his knees. He begins to sing softly, his voice smooth and melodic fills the room and your heart with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"... People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand,"

His voice is mesmerizing, hypnotic even and you’re impressed. You've heard him sing but nothing as soft as this. Each note wraps around you like a tight embrace. You join in on the last four verses, the thc boosting your confidence and your voices come together sweetly. The song ends with the last note and chord lingering in the air. You’re giggling excitedly, so lost in the music, that you almost don’t notice the hardness pressing against your back until your laughter subsides. Your body feels suddenly hot when you do, a flush spreading across your skin. You turn your head slightly to look at him, intending to say something, but the words catch in your throat.

He knows you can feel it, how can you not? He's rock hard. It's not that he was thinking of anything particularly sexy. It was your singing voice that did it for him. The way your voices mingled together sounded hauntingly beautiful to him. Not to mention the barely noticeable vibration through your body when you sang. He has no control over the effect you had on him. He willed is dick to go down the entire time you two sang but there was nothing he could do but pray you wouldn't notice. That was out of the question once your laughter shook your body. His cock twitched  inside of his shorts, pulsating against your back. He held his breath and hoped you wouldn't say anything but you turned to look at him. You parted your lips prepared to speak but said nothing, only quiet panting made its way out of you. The way you looked at him, the way you felt in his arms and your lips, right there so close to his, made something inside of him crack.

Before you can react, Jisung’s lips are on yours, kissing you with sudden urgency. Your mind goes blank, every thought drowned out by the intensity of the kiss. His hands are on your hips, pulling you back closer to him like you'll drift away like the smoke of the joints from earlier. You can’t help but respond, your fingers tangling in his hair knocking his hat off as you kiss him back desperate for more. Jisung’s grip on you tightens as his tongue explores your mouth with a desperate need. The guitar is forgotten, pushed aside as he shifts, turning you so that you're facing him. He gently lays you down onto the pile of pillows on the floor, his body pressing you down into the pile that feels like clouds. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch, every kiss, it's all amplified by the cannabis coursing through your veins.

"Y/N," Jisung whispers, his voice rough with desire, as he presses his clothed erection against your core. The friction is maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you and you moan in response as your hips come up off the ground, bucking against him.

You're not thinking anymore, your hands just move on their own seeking more of what's making you feel so good. Everything around you is hazy and black around the edges like a dream. All you’re aware of is the incredible sensation that seems to take over your entire body.

"Jisung…" you breathe, your voice trembling.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. He silently pleads for you to tell him to stop but you can't. You don't want him to stop. You want him, need him in a way that you can't describe with words.

"Don't stop." you whisper back, your voice barely audible. “More.”

He growls low in his throat, his hands squeezing your hips as he starts to move faster, the pressure building, driving you both closer to the edge. It feels incredible, each rub, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through you. Jisung’s hips move faster, his breath coming in harsh pants as he grinds against you. You can feel yourself getting close, building to a crescendo and you know he's close too, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He doesn't care that he's about to cum in his pants just from dry humping you. You feel so damn incredible in his arms. But you stop him suddenly, your hands on his chest and he looks at you with wide glassy eyes. 

"I need you inside me." you say, your voice breathy and husky.

He stops his movements, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your hands moving to his shorts, tugging them down. "Yes. Please. Fuck me, Jisung."

In the haze of weed and pleasure, a thought cuts through the fog. This is wrong. Danny is just a few feet away, sleeping peacefully in Jisung’s bed. But the thought is fleeting, quickly drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of Jisung’s body pressing into yours. He fumbles with his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. You lift your hips, helping him slide your leggings and panties down in one quick move. Back between your legs, he positions himself at your entrance and a bead of precum forms, dripping down and disappearing into one of the pillows. His eyes meet yours as he rubs the head of his cock up and over your folds, collecting your arousal and getting tip nice and wet. You shudder keeping your eyes locked onto his. 

He rubs the length of his cock against you, teasing your clit in a circular motion. Maybe if he doesn't actually fuck you, it's not that big of a betrayal to his friend, he thinks lamely, knowing how idiotic that sounds. Still, Jisung convinces himself that if there's no actual penetration, maybe he won't feel so guilty. If he just gets you both off like this, he could somewhat live with himself.

Your body shakes under him each time he thrusts upward, and he can feel your pussy getting wetter, making things far more slippery. "Yeah, you can cum like this, y/n, I know you can. Just cum like this for me. Fuck, let me cum on your stomach, and we can innocently continue our night," he coaxes you inside his head, his hips moving faster. You're so wet that Jisung slips and slides over your pussy with ease. He misjudges when he goes to push up again, moving far too quickly and slams hard into your cunt, making you both moan louder than intended. Both of you freeze, glancing over at Danny as he shifts in his sleep and rolls over to face the back of the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you and Jisung groan quietly in unison, trying to stay still with your hearts beating fast with fear.

"Fuck, you're so tight, y/n," he groans, his voice quiet and strained. "You feel so fucking good."

He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. But it doesn't take long for the need to take over and soon he's fucking you forcefully and fast, his hips slamming into yours with a desperate intensity. Each thrust hits a spot deep inside you, that makes you want to scream. You close your eyes and see spots of lights behind your lids in the same purple hue that glows around the TV in the room. You can barely form coherent thoughts, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. All you can do is moan his name, over and over, as he takes your pleasure higher. The room is filled with the slapping sounds of skin against skin, the wet, obscene noises of your arousal mixing with your moans and his grunts.

He leans down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His tongue explores your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts and you can taste the sweet saltiness of his sweat on his skin. His hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through your bra, adding to the onslaught of sensations. You can’t keep your hands off him, your fingers dig into his back as he fucks you hard, gliding down his skin making thin faint red lines. Jisung's thoughts are a mess. He's never felt like this before, never been this out of control. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, that he's betraying his best friend, but he can't stop. Your pussy feels too good to him, too perfect. You're perfect. The way your pussy pulls him in and squeezes his cock. It's heaven to him.

“So wet… oh god. So fucking perfect, y/n. Fuck,” he whispers, looking down at you.

You can only moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrusts harder, faster. The pleasure is a flame setting you both ablaze. It’s messy and intense, growing bigger and wilder with every touch and movement amplified by the high.

“Say my name,” he demands, his voice rough.

Jisung’s dominance surprises you, the way he takes control, guiding your body with a confidence that leaves you breathless. You open your eyes and gasp at the expression on his face. His face is a contradiction of emotions.

“Jisung!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit. He rubs it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling toward the edge. “Just like that, baby,” he groans, with a smirk on his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Ji… Jisung, I’m close.” you gasp, your hands pulling him closer. He speeds up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you.

"Cum when I tell you to, y/n. Just a little more." he moans, closing his eyes. "Ah! Little more, a little more, baby. Yeah... oh fuck." He whispers, slowing his pace to pull out of you completely and thrust back in quickly.

He can feel himself getting closer and he starts to move faster. His thrusts become more frantic, more crazed, and you can’t hold back any longer. You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pleasure is too overwhelming. You cry out, arching your back and squeezing your eyes shut tight as your body tenses and the orgasm hits. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure floods through your veins leaving you breathless, shaking.

"Ji, Ji I'm cumming!" you gasp, your hands gripping him hard feeling him batter your cervix with the head of his cock.

Jisung’s grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Yeah, cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck!"

Your walls clench around him, milking his cock as he continues to pound into you. With a loud moan, you fall apart. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you feeling utterly and thoroughly fucked and incapacitated.

"Fuck, I'm cumming, y/n! I'm cumming-Ah!" he groans loudly, eyes squeezing shut.

He thrusts a few more times before he cums, spilling into you as he moans your name. The feeling of his warmth filling you is almost too much and it prolongs your orgasm, leaving you trembling and spent beneath him.

For a few seconds you both don't move, panting hard as your breathing slowly returns to its regular pace but as the high of the orgasm fades, reality crashes down like a tidal wave. Jisung pulls out of you quickly, his face full of panic and regret.

"What the fuck did we do?" he mutters, more to himself than to you. His hands shake as he runs them through his hair, over and over, looking like he's on the verge of a breakdown.

“What did I do? I'm dreaming... yeah. I gotta be,” he screams internally. But the warmth of your pussy around him, still lingers, insisting otherwise. He glances down, seeing his cock slick and creamy with your cum, more undeniable evidence of what just happened. This wasn’t a weed-induced wet dream; he’s done the unthinkable— he's fucked his best friend's girlfriend.

You sit up and reach out to comfort him, but he flinches away from your touch, the gesture cutting you like a knife. "I don’t regret it," you whisper, your voice trembling but sincere. But the look on his face is clear; he does.

"We can’t do this again," Jisung says, his voice firm but soft. "No matter how amazing it felt, we can’t. I... I can't betray Danny like that again, jagi. Fuck, y/n. I'm sorry."

Despite knowing you shouldn't, you can't help it; you lean in and your lips meet his. For a sweet, blissful second, Jisung kisses you back. You could blame your actions on the weed but you know you're more aware when you're high than when you're drunk. Jisung breaks the kiss and covers his mouth with his hands, glancing over at his sleeping friend.

“This is wrong, y/n. So, so fucking wrong,” he whispers, his voice filled with pain. “I've known Danny since we were in diapers. What happened... It was a mistake. We can't…”

His face is full of pain and confusion, tears threatening to spill over. You want to reach out, to comfort him, but he doesn't even want you near him let alone touch him now. That realization shatters you. Your own eyes sting with the threat of tears and you turn away, quickly gathering your clothes to hide your face.

You nod, fighting back tears as you get dressed. The lingering taste of weed on your tongue now tastes like ash and guilt gnaws at your insides at seeing Jisung so conflicted. He watches you, his silence heavy with all the words he wishes he could say. He wants to stop you, to pull you into his arms and kiss away the tears that threaten to fall but he knows he can't. You're Danny's girlfriend even if he doesn't deserve you. Jisung's already fucked up once, he can't again no matter what his heart is telling him.

Your hands are trembling while you fumble to pull on your pants, wishing there was something you could say to make things better. The silence is deafening, broken only by your shaky breathing and Danny's soft snoring. You gather your textbooks and notes, desperately trying to hold yourself together, to not break down before you can make out the door. Jisung lets you go, his heart breaking with every step you take. Inside, he's screaming for you to stay, but he doesn’t move. He just lets you go because he knows that it’s for the best.

"I'm sorry, Ji." you say, your voice cracking. "I’m so sorry..."

Your voice sounds broken and It's barely audible, but it feels like a scream in the silence. When your hand turns the knob, the tears finally spill over and you rush through the open door. The door closes behind you with a finality that feels like a knife to the heart.

Jisung stares blankly at the door as it shuts, the lingering scent of sex and weed hanging in the air. The bitter taste of disloyalty and heartache, like poison, is bitter on his tongue. He collapses onto the floor after pulling up his shorts and buries his face in his hands. The room feels emptier than ever and Danny's sleeping presence is a constant reminder of the betrayal, making him want to throw up.

"Y/N... what the fuck have we done?" he whispers to himself, his voice breaking with a choking sob, wondering if you two will ever get through this without being burned even more.

★𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱★

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst @jeonginsbaee @leftovercigarettes @redstayrosie @krayzieestay @c4y27 @shadowqueen26 @jazskz-blog @Seungcheolshole @stephanieeeyang

If you'd like to be tagged in future posts let me know here

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Oct 25th

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1. Hi. I’m looking for a fic and I don’t have a ton to go on, so here’s hoping someone knows which fic! I’m looking for a canon divergence, possibly a fix it or time travel fix it. It’s NOT the dynasty fic where WWX is WRH nephew and he disappears from the lectures. The specific scene I have in my mind is WWX avoiding the arriving sects at night less city, no one knows he’s been with the dafan wen or I guess where he had been. I know it makes a point to stress he’s dressed with care and in robes that are much nicer than he ever had with the jiang, I know they are using wen yuan to distract him bc he’s nervous about madam yu and the jiang arriving, I know wen Qing gives him an aggressive supportive pep talk in an inner courtyard while he basically is sitting there catastrophising. I can’t remember who is meant to be the wen sect leader, whether it’s wen Qing, wen Ning, or popo or maybe WWX?? I don’t think HE is the sect leader. LWJ might know he’s there and anticipating the sects arriving as well because he’s nervous how people will react seeing him there. I can’t remember if when Qing and wen Ning are time travelers. It’s KILLING MEEEE. I’ve been hunting thru my bookmarks and all the tags I can think of and I’m not finding anything. I know it’s complete and most likely over 20k words. (I’m wondering now if it’s that one he uses a talisman to make a lightning trap to save dafan village from a legendary beast??? And there’s flooding?? And LWJ and JWY happen upon him afterwards Idk I could be wrong) @takemitchyleaps

FOUND? We'll Build A Dynasty (one the heavens can't shake) by One_eyed_God (T, 66k, WangXian, canon typical Jiang family dynamics, BAMF WWX, Canon JC Characteristics, POV Outsider, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, WWX is a Wen, Sect Leader WWX, Genius WWX, The Casual Intimacy of Hand-Holding, Minor XuanLi, Not JC Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It)

FOUND? Cultivating immortality by KizuKatana (E, 231k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Mutual Pining, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, unreliable narrator, Found Family, First Time, novel canon relationship dynamics) Is this the one mentioned in #1 parentheses

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2. Hello ! I was searching for a fanfiction where WWX was under Lwj care who spanked him and punished him but also took care of him . It comes in series... Lwj master in CR. In one series LWj beat Wwx so much that he himself got punishment in ancestral hall. I remember reading it a few years back but can't find it now

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3. Hii!!! Can you help me find a fic where wwx dies in guanyin temple and promise lwj that he will return. Then wwx is reborn in the modern world where he is a scientist and a politician son. He sometimes remember lwj through dreams. He also has a girl best friend who helps him. Later he makes a machine to return to lwj in cloud recess and they reunite.

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4. Hello! i'm not entirely sure if i've mashed two together in my head or if it really is just one fic but here it goes: Lan zhan and wei ying are neighbors. a-yuan is wei ying's son, lan zhan works with a class of students on music cultivation. wei ying and a-yuan are actually hiding out from the wen's and the culminating scene has a-yuan possessed and needing to be cleansed and lan zhan and his students helping. I believe it was a multi chapter fic too. thank you so much!!

FOUND? Hear a song this deeply by so_shhy (T, 87k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, Kind of academia AU, Music, Kid Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Action/Adventure, To An Extent, canon-typical JGY behaviour, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Fluff and Angst, we love us some tragic backstory, Happy Ending, for wangxian at least, [slaps fic] this baby can fit so much plot in it)

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5. Hello, I'm looking for a fic I've read before. Wei ying is at the lectures in CR and sees that Lan Zhan receives presents from people but rejects them. He was befriending him and thinks that lan zhan won't reject his present ..so he gives him a jade pendant. But lan zhan crushes it and WY gets mad about it and starts to avoid lz.

It was completed and I think just one chapter. Thanks in advance @smarti1997

FOUND? For you by 10thNoNamePerson (T, 16k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Canon Divergence, No War AU, Teen Wangxian, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Jealous WWX, Soft WangXian, No Sunshot Campaign)

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6. good day! so i was reading this wangxian dimension travel fic and i suddenly remember that one story; a student from modern world lost her way in the forest and kinda met wwx who just became yiling patriarch. i think her name is lily? or something close to that name. i know that i bookmarked it before and i dont know why but i cant find it (not sure if im using the correct tags or what) pls help me find it. thank you for ur help! 💙

additional info:: i think her bag is color yellow? she also went with wy to kill wen chao and thats how jc and lz met her. theres also a scene where she stopped wy during "the soup" encounter with jzx and she got hurt. @httpskaixx

hello! actually, the "i told u when i came i was a stranger" was the story i was reading when i submitted my ask. i followed the note and search it with "isekai" tag and i found it!! the story i was looking for is "wait a minute!" thankyou so much!

NOT FOUND! i told you when i came i was a stranger by Caramelized (M, 50k, OFC/LXC, minor WangXian, Isekai, Transmigration, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Amateur cartography, Butterfly Effect, Sunshot Campaign, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, No Golden Core Transfer, Dimension Travel, Politics, LXC the politician, Self-Insert, Foreknowledge, Angst with a Happy Ending) If not, the requester might want to search "isekai" for The Untamed or Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù on AO3.

FOUND! Wait a minute! by Anonymous (T, 45k, WangXian, World Travel, Dimension Travel, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, Crack Treated Seriously, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Angst, Attempt at Humor, I've Been Told That OC has Kagome From Inuyasha Vibes, Isekai)

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7. JGY kills nie huasaing and delivers his saber to NMJ which reveals what actually happened to him so now Wei Ying, with the help of Lan Zhan, must resurrect NHS (at NMJ’s “request”) wen Ning style before NMJ kills like everyone. I’ve been looking on AO3 but the fic might have been on tumblr or cross posted. @i-cant-think-of-one-meh

FOUND? Digging Graves by nirejseki (Not rated, 13k, NHS & NMJ, WWX & XY, wangxian, Revenge, Broken Moral System, Non-Graphic Violence, the masterless sabers)

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8. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where Wei Ying is an ex-model who had an iconic magazine photoshoot (inspired by Burt Reynolds apparently), and a younger Lan Zhan is a big fan of him. Lan Zhan encounters him on a coffee run and they get together. I vaguely remember Wei Ying shouting that he's a cougar. I guess the title is along the lines of "came for the coffee" but I'm not sure anymore since I really can't find it. Thank you so much!

FOUND? 8 Is "Came for the coffee, stayed for the wet dream". It's one of Pancho's hidden works, but it is available on wayback machine

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9. Hi I’m looking for a fic that might have been deleted but I’m really hoping I’m just missing it. It was a one shot on the longer side, ABO dynamics, where LWJ turns WWX into an omega when they end up quarantining together over the pandemic. It used to come up pretty high when I sorted by kudos, so hopefully someone’s heard of it :( thank you so much!

FOUND! the twisting of secondary genders by HeavenlySkyfarer (E, 7k, WangXian, Modern, A/B/O, Non-Consensual Secondary Gender Modification, Extremely Dubious Consent, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Forced Heat, Baby Trapping, Questionable Use of The Quarantine As A Plot-Device For Questionable Porn, Dark LWJ)

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10. hii!! i've been looking for this specific fic thats on ao3 for a while.. the jist is lan zhan and wei ying are living together post-canon as a happy couple until they go night hunting together to figure out this pattern of suicides in a town or something? they don't really find much and head back home but it turns out lan zhan has gotten cursed and is now slowly declining mental health wise-- he pulls away from wei ying (to which wei ying is very sad about) and eventually tries to leave on bichen in the middle of night to go commit suicide, but wei ying catches him, realizes he's cursed, and helps him and then yay happy ending? thank you! @hyperizzation

FOUND! What lies beneath the bones series by seachronicles (E, 104k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Trauma Recovery, Rape Recovery, PTSD, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Disordered Eating, Survivor Guilt, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Sex, Hurt LWJ, LWJ Needs a Hug, LWJ Whump, POV LWJ, Character Study, LWJ is Not Okay, Mental Health Issues, Post-Canon, Sad LWJ, Depressed LWJ, Self-Esteem Issues, Canonical Character Death, LWJ-centric, Touch-Starved LWJ, Case Fic, Night Hunt, Ghosts, Curses, Suicide, conversations about suicide, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Child Abuse, only referenced, WWX Takes Care of LWJ, Soft WWX, Hurt WWX, but differently, Guilt, WWX gives him the hug, POV WWX, Self-Harm, nothing too graphic, Established Relationship, Mystery, Hair Washing, Wound Tending, WWX is So Whipped, wangxian literally live their cottagecore dream, WangXian in Love, Secrets, LWJ has a secret, Vulnerability, Drunk LWJ, Protective WWX, Miscommunication, Soft LWJ, Eating Disorders, Suicidal Thoughts, Recovery, LWJ needs therapy, he gets that therapy, LXC Tries, LQR Being an Asshole, Dad LWJ, Chronic Pain, Dissociation, LWJ Has OCD, Sex between Wangxian, Dubious Consent, because they don't know how to communicate, They Learn, Happy consensual sex, Mild Smut, Eventual Smut, Aftercare, Fluff and Smut)

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11. Searching really hard for a fic where wwx adopts a-yuan without telling anyone but lwj thinks a-yuan is wwx's bf, so when wwx finally asks him out and kisses him , lwj refuses and tells he never knew wwx was the kind of guy to cheat. He apologizes to wwx later when a-yuan visits him in university, I think. @maskdmafia

FOUND?🔒 breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm (T, 27k, WangXian, Modern, assumed cheating, Miscommunication, gc transfer modernised as hand-wavey illness (referenced/implied), 5+1 Things)

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12. I read a fanfic awhile back where child Lan Zhan meets child Wei Ying while Wei Ying is still on the streets as an orphan. Lan Zhan gives him something, I can’t remember if it’s a toy or food. Then for the following years Lan Zhan spends time trying to find Wei Ying to check up on him using musical cultivation. There’s a woman who he calls to find him, one day she does find him. I believe it’s around the time Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng arrive at the cloud recesses.

I also think, and I might be combining two different fics here but hopefully I’m not, but the following plot is them falling in love while Wei Ying comes to term with the horrific and graphic abuse that Yu Ziyuan put him and other servants through and they end up investigating, finding proof, and she faces punishment. Pretty sure it’s an A/B/O fanfic where Yu Ziyuan forces Wei Ying to hide he’s an omega(?) for some reason. I think a chastity belt is involved that Yu Ziyuan put Wei Ying in. Jiang Cheng’s father resigns as sect leader when her crimes come to light.

Any help would be greatly appreciated, this has been a thorn in my side for the past few weeks. @staykookedsuga

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13. Hello! I have an ask for the fic-finder 😅

It's been a long time since I read this one, so it's an older fic (at least more than 3-4 years ago). It was centred around MDZS as a story with Jiang Wanyin as the MC and YLZ as the villain. Our main characters had a whole fandom around it, where LWJ is a famous author and WWX a not-very-popular artist who drew fanart of the most hated character in the book "Yiling Laozu" (I think he was an artist, could also be a fellow writer).

I remember there was lot of fandom discourse about WWX and his choice of character to support and how YLZ was always jealous of JWY and did actually maliciously cause everything he was accused of in this alternate MDZS canon. Then, suddenly, LWJ + WWX end up pairing up for a fandom event (a big bang or smth similar), and WWX has the idea of a story where canon divergence occurs and YLZ is a good person instead (like actual canon) and LWJ agrees to write for it.

This was as far as I had read for it. From I remember it was a WIP. Thanks <3 @indelibleme

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14. Hello :) I could use your help to find a fic: Modern AU, LWJ is an epidemiologist, at the start LWJ finds A-Yuan alone at a train station and waits with him until WWX shows up, WWX and A-Yuan move in with LWJ, A-Yuan locks himself in the bathroom and LWJ kicks the door in to get him out, WWX reenters Uni to finish a degree, LWJ sort of punishes him so he concentrates on work?, LWJ starts the process of adopting A-Yuan, WWX and LWJ confess in the bathroom during a family party. Thank you so much! @die-or-worse-be-expelled

FOUND? 🔒 Lost Boys by raitala (E, 115k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, Modern, Kid Fic, Gen or Pre-Slash, hints of wangxian, finding your found family, A-Yuan is a sweetie, Emotional Baggage, LWJ is on the Asexuality Spectrum, Neurodivergent LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, sugar daddy LWJ, LSZ is the bestest boi, LWJ is trying his best, WWX needs a hug, background societal homophobia, Grief/Mourning, Under-negotiated Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Mild Painplay, Sharing a Bed, Family Feels, Nice LQR, Adoption, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Spit Kink, Slow Burn)

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15. Heyy. Just wanna start of by saying your account is an absolute life saver. Thank you so much for the hard work you guys put into getting fanfiction.

I need help finding a fic: Jiang Cheng, blaming Wei WuXian for soemthing he did (can't remember), finds a magical array to erase Wei WuXian from this world. Only to find out they loose the Sunshot Campaign without Wei WuXian and his demonic cultivation so he works together with Lan Wangji to bring him back and save everyone in this universe.

There's alot of angst and family bonding as well as feels. I remember that the heirs of the great sects were taken prisoner in the world Wei WuXian was erased and that's when Jiang Cheng wants to solve his mistake.

FOUND? The Way It Wasn’t by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

FOUND? Not This Time by Marinelifeclub (M, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Angst, Dark LWJ, Protective LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Resentful WWX, Established Relationship, POV Alternating, Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Minor XuanLi, not for jc fans, eventual 3zun, Kid Fic)

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16. Hi! I’d love your help in looking for a fic on AO3. I can’t remember if it was a long one-shot or a series, but here are plot points I do recall:

- Lan Wangji stays behind at Yiling with Wei Wuxian

- the Lans don’t hear from him for a long time, until people report sightings of him in Yiling

- Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren take a few other Lan disciples with them to investigate

- They almost don’t recognize Lan Zhan because he looks different - he is happy. He now wears a painted symbol of a cloud on his forehead, and allows the village children to braid his hair with beads. He is considered pretty, and either a deity/god or just someone special by the villagers.

I hope this rings a bell, I’ve been trying to find it for ages and I’ve had no luck! @ogfangirl93

FOUND!🔒Unpack Your Heart by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 22k, wangxian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Wangxian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies)

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17. Hello! I’m looking for a fic, I can’t remember a lot of it and some of the plot points might be off but here’s what I remember; WWX dies but is approached by the previous wielder of the sword that was in the xuanwu of slaughter’s cave and they say smth I forgot and then wwx is back in the past and he can wield said sword and then I can’t remember anything else. Thanks for the help!

FOUND? Did I Not Explain Why the Sunset Turns Red? by 3988Akasha (E, 110k, wangxian, time travel, canon divergence, Canonical Character Death, Soulmates, Demonic Cultivation, Original Female Character(s), Emotional Constipation, Minor Character Death, Hand Jobs, Sexual Content, Bathing/Washing, Idiots in Love, Poetry, Mild Gore, Anal Sex, Angst, Rimming, Blow Jobs)

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18. Hello! For Fic Finder, please! I am looking for a canon au where some people were shapeshifters and during the Sunshot Campaign Wen Ruohan was poisoning the shapeshifters and forcing them under his control. I remember one scene in particular where a Wen dire owl was shot down and it ended up being one of these kidnapped/enslaved shapeshifters. I think the poison was some kind of dust that had to be inhaled? Thank you for your help! @gloriousclotpole

FOUND! 🔒 Unstoppable by Netrixie (T, 150k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Slow Burn, Minor Original Character(s), Cloud Recesses, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Angst, Wolf-shifter WWX, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Fix-It, Werewolf, Shapeshifters, Sunshot Campaign, Translation Available, Russian, Canonical Lan arm strength)

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19. Hi. I am looking for a fic where Baoshan Sanren knows about Wei Wuxian’s fate. She can’t interfere directly so she trains Mo Xuanyu as a cultivator. Mo Xuanyu joins the jin sect and has a good relationship with Madam Jin helping protect jin Ling. He leaves the sect and the cultivation world to write the ministry exams for the imperial family. But he is assassinated before he can write the exams. Instead, Wei Wuxian, who wakes up in Mo Xuanyu’s body writes the exams and rises high. Soon enough, he catches the eye of the emperor because his genius and tendency to modify talisman. The emperor then finds out what happened in the cultivation world and gives them an eye opener. Mo Xuanyu’s ghost also appears and reveals Baoshan Sanren’s plan and his agreement to go along with it. Lan Zhan, then finds out that Mo Xuanyu is Wei Wuxian, leaves the sect to go live with him on his lands outside the cultivation world. @darkshadowgrief

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20. I'm looking for a fic where Wei Ying babysits A-yuan for Lan Zhan? I think it was Modern AU but that's all i can remember maybe he taught him art?

I'm number 20 in the recent fic finder and I don't think paint smears is the one I'm looking for, not sure about the other since it's been deleted but I remember Wei Ying actually babysits A-yuan in his house or at least teaches him art at his house in his play room? And lan zhan is still at the house he just lets them be I think. I remember them learning about colors or painting something and also that lan zhan wanted to offer Wei Ying a permanent job as A-yuan's private art teacher and offered more than his regular job.

FOUND? Light travels faster than sound by Anonymous (E, 25k, wangxian) wwx is an artist commissioned to make musician!lwj's album cover, than to give a-yuan art lessons), but I think the author deleted their works?

NOT FOUND! 🧡 paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 (E, 53k, WangXian, Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Everyone Is Alive, Modern AU, Dadji, Mutual Pining, Happy Ending, Brief Alcohol Mention, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Accidentally co-parenting with your son's art teacher, Fatherhood)

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[messedupfan]

Chapter 24

Summary: Billy and Tommy are celebrating their 12th birthday.

A/n: Hellooooooo! I'm so sorry this has taken so long to post. It's been a ROUGH few months. But through it, I've been able to write a bit when I can. I've also fallen behind on a few episodes of Everything Is Fanfiction. I'm working on getting them out soon, just beware, they were meant to be posted in October/November. But November was so disappointing I needed a BREAK. Haha. Anyway, hope y'all are well. Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist  | All Chapters

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“The kids told me that Y/n is going to be at their birthday party,” Vision says as he leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. His facial features are contorted into what he assumes is a threatening expression. Once upon a time, his expression did cause Wanda’s stomach to twist in knots and her body to tense up so tightly it was as if she'd turned to stone. But now, all she sees is a man child. Just a boy throwing another fit because he can't have what he wants. She is no longer afraid of his glare and she has to refrain from grinning at the realization. 

Wanda is picking up her boys since it's her week with them. She got caught in this conversation because she was left waiting for Tommy and Billy to say their goodbyes to their younger siblings. They love Vin and Viv wholeheartedly and they feel guilty every time they leave. Even more so because of the relief and safety they feel when they are with their mom. Something they don't know if their siblings will ever feel since Vin and Viv live full time with their father.  

“Y/n will be there with Rachel, their daughter. A lot of parents will be there with their children,” Wanda says with a small shrug. She's trying her best to hide her annoyance over the fact that Vision continues to have this insecurity towards you. As if you're going to replace him in his role as a parent. Of course part of Wanda wishes it could be as simple as that. But she won't ever admit that in order to protect her kids.

“Well I won't be there if they slash them is going to be there,” he states firmly. “I'm the boy's father, so I have to be there.” 

Once again, Wanda has to refrain from laughing. “Vis, you're not even invited. We agreed to do separate birthday celebrations when we got divorced,” she pauses as a fact pops in her mind. “Actually, it's written in our custody agreement. I just haven't held you responsible until now because I was trying to keep you from disappointing the boys at least on their birthday. So, you better think of something for your Saturday with them because I'm not letting you piggyback off of me anymore.” 

Vision opens his mouth to say something but Tommy and Billy are dashing by as they race each other to the car to try and beat the other out for the front seat. Now that they're getting older, they're getting taller. Wanda can't keep them from fighting over the front seat the way she used to. She doesn't give Vision another second as she follows the boys, who are shoving each other, to the car. Billy is claiming that Tommy cheated and Tommy claiming that Billy is just too slow. 

“Boys! No one gets the front seat!” Wanda shouts as she pulls them apart. “Both of you, get to the back!” She demands and they both scoff and sigh as they crawl into the backseat. As Wanda starts the car the boys start to argue over who gets to be in charge of the music. 

“Mom, tell Tommy it's my turn! He played his music last time!” Billy shouts from the backseat. 

“No, that was at dad's house that doesn't count!” Tommy defends. 

“It does too!” Billy fires back. “I'm tired of your music! It sucks!”

“No it doesn't! My music is cool! Your music is for fags!” Tommy says the word a little too harshly. Wanda is shocked to hear Tommy say such a thing but knowing her ex-husband, it was only a matter of time. 

Wanda looks back through the rear view mirror to see that they're still fighting each other. “Hey!” She demands their attention. “Because of that, no one gets to play their music. I'm very disappointed to hear you say such a thing like that Tommy. We do not use that kind of hateful language,” she states strongly to get them to stop fighting and hopefully to get Tommy to never say that word again. 

Many Years Ago 

“Ugh he's so gross,” Crystalia says as she watches Professor Stark pass by while he's in mid conversation with another faculty member. 

Wanda is taking a bite of her food as she hides a nervous chuckle. “What are you talking about?” 

“I'm talking about the rumors going around about him sleeping with students,” she says as she leans in close and speaks in a low tone. Wanda nearly chokes on her food. 

“What? What are you talking about?” She wipes the corners of her lips as she feels Vision’s eyes on her. She subtly shakes her head in hopes that he'll stop looking her way. He looks ahead of him as he continues to walk and talk with his colleague.

“You haven't heard?” Crystalia says as though it's something that everyone on campus is talking about. Wanda shakes her head. “Oh my goodness! Okay. So. Apparently his TA saw a student go into the professor's office and a few minutes later he heard a bunch of moans from both of them. He isn't sure if he should turn him in because he really needs the scholarship that the professor helped him get. But he’s worried about the students' safety. I mean how gross. Professor Stark is in a position of power. I feel bad for whoever the poor girl is.” 

Crystalia’s words begin to fade away as Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was certain they were super careful about what they were doing. She knew she shouldn't have met him in his office. It was a bad idea from the beginning. She cannot believe she let him talk her into it. But he really wanted to try being intimate in his office because the idea was thrilling. She couldn't deny that it was thrilling, she had never been so terrified and turned on at the same time at the idea of being caught. But knowing that his teaching assistant did catch them has her stomach doing somersaults. She has to push her plate of sushi away from her because she's too nauseous to eat anymore. 

“Are you okay?” Crystalia asks with concern. 

Wanda nods, “Yeah, yeah, I'm just, I'm not sure that the sushi is good is all.” She puts on a fake smile as her mind continues to race with what could happen to her if the teaching assistant were to turn them in. What it could do to her reputation of being known as a girl who screws the professors. It wouldn't matter that he's the only professor that she's been with or that she wasn't his student anymore and hasn't been for a year. It won't matter that they've been in a relationship that was beyond the physical. She would be ruined if anyone found out the student was her.

She knows she should have never started seeing him in the first place. She knew it was against the rules. But she couldn't help herself. It started off as fun and now it's too late to stop. She's so in love with him that she can't imagine life without him. 

Present Day 

A couple of days later, Wanda is sitting on her back porch and watching you lift the finished furniture that you'd made. Taking it from the backyard all the way to the driveway. She licks her lips as her eyes follow your every move, noticing the way your muscles flex as you hoist the chair up. She was starving for your touch again. With the kids' starting middle school and both of you having work piling up, neither of you have been able to find time to spend together. Not since the night the two of you slept together. 

Neither of you really got to enjoy the moments after because shortly after the two of you finished she received a phone call from a nearby hospital. Her mother had fallen and broken her wrist. Wanda rushed to her mother's aid as soon as she was dressed and you drove her to the hospital. Her mother played the injury off as if it was nothing but the doctor stated otherwise. So, Wanda had her mom move in with her for the time being so that she could look after her mother. 

You drove them back to Wanda's once the mother was released from the hospital. It was hard to deny anything going on between the two of you in the disheveled state you and Wanda were in. Not to mention how late into the night it was that the two of you were together. Her mom didn't ask any questions. She simply smiled and squeezed your arm. A silent approval in a sense. 

Then you and Wanda said goodnight to each other because she thought it would be best for you to go home. You agreed as you figured the focus needed to be on her mother's health and not Wanda and yours relationship status. Thankfully, her mom hasn't been pressing her for details of your relationship with Wanda but she has been making comments. “You look happier,” she'll say as she sips coffee. “There’s a glow about you,” she'll say as she walks by the home office. “I think you’re doing the right thing,” she whispered once while the four of them were watching a movie about a blended family. “If you want to have someone over or go out, feel free. Don't let me stop you,” she stated on a Friday night when Wanda didn't have the kids and added a wink when Wanda gave her mother a funny look. 

“Wow, Y/n made those all on their own?” Ms. Maximoff says as she sits next to her daughter while she sips her coffee. “They must have talented… hands.” 

Wanda's eyes widen as she sits up, “Mom!” She scolds softly. “Stop,” she turns around to make sure her boys aren't within ear shot. “Just, please, the kids can't know. Not yet okay? So please, stop with the comments.” 

Ms. Maximoff rolls her eyes and sets her mug on the table in front of them. “I was just paying your friend a compliment. You don't need to get flustered over nothing. I did not raise you to have a filthy mind.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Oh please mother, who are you trying to fool?” 

“Okay, I won't say anything anymore. I just,” she looks around and notices that you and the kids are nowhere to be seen. Noting that they're alone. Even so, she leans in close to her daughter and asks, “Is this a secret because it's far from being serious?” 

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she contemplates a simple answer. After a moment she starts to shake her head. “We're taking it slow. We're getting to know each other and figuring out if there is a future here. We're also protecting our kids.”

Her mother nods and places a hand atop her own. She gives her a light squeeze. “How do you feel about them?” she asks in a soft motherly tone that strikes a chord in Wanda. 

The woman grows emotional. Tears spring to the brim of her eyes and threaten to fall as a lump forms in her throat. She takes a shaky breath to calm down. “I'm in love and I'm scared that I'm going to mess it up. I'm scared that I'm not seeing something majorly wrong with Y/n and it'll ruin my life when it comes out. I'm so happy and secure yet I'm so terrified that my instincts are wrong.”

Ms. Maximoff nods and moves her hand further up on Wanda's arm. “Vision did quite a number on you, didn't he?” She asks and Wanda looks away. She often avoids talking about her former marriage to her mother because she doesn't want her mom to think that she failed as a mother. 

“Mom, please,” Wanda wipes her eyes and clears her throat. 

“Honey, I'm only,” Ms. Maximoff doesn't get to continue because you are opening the back door, startling both of the women. 

“Hey, I just wanted to warn you that I have to deliver the orders to the post office,” you say as you fail to notice the vulnerable state that Wanda is in. “Do you mind if Rachel stays behind, I'll only be a couple of,” your words fall as Wanda breathes through her stuffed nose, giving away her current state. You crouch near her to get a good look at her. You put one hand on her shoulder and your other gently takes her hand. “What's wrong, Wanda?”

Wanda shakes her head and clears her throat as she forces a smile. Her body responds to your touch, releasing the tension that was building from the conversation with her mother. “Nothing, nothing. It's only allergies,” she tries to lie and you tilt your head as you catch her eyes to make contact. When she finally surrenders and gazes into your eyes you have a nonverbal conversation hoping she will open up without having to verbalize her emotions. She tells you that she is fine and you nod as you accept her answer. You gently wipe a tear that has escaped before you stand up and let go of her.  

“I need to drop off the furniture at the post office. Rachel isn't ready to leave yet, do you mind if I leave her here for a bit? I'll bring dinner for everyone on my way back,” you ask as you look at her carefully. Still concerned about how she is feeling. 

Wanda takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, it's no big deal. I'm sure they're all distracted with a video game or something. I'll be here to keep them alive otherwise.” You laugh at her statement and thank her as you step away. 

“How's the wrist Ms. Maximoff?” You ask as you step closer to her. She smiles and tells you that she's never been better. You give her a half hug goodbye and tell the ladies that you'll see them in a bit. 

Ms. Maximoff looks at her daughter once you're gone and she smiles. “Honey, you have nothing to worry about.” Her confidence in her statement startles Wanda. Her mother had never been so approving of a partner that she's had. It felt different to have this kind of approval from her mom. At one point in her life, she could care less if her mom approved or not. But she didn't realize how much energy it took to be constantly defending her decisions. It overwhelms her once again. She fears how easy all of this is and she isn't certain that she can believe that this is real. 

Many Years Ago 

Wanda paces the bedroom nervously. She couldn't believe that she was in this situation again. She doesn't believe she'll be lucky a second time. What is she going to tell people? What is she going to tell her parents? 

“It's not that bad,” Vision says as he stops Wanda in her tracks. Her pacing was irritating him but he is doing his best to remain steady, for her. “This can be a good thing. You won't need to worry about graduating or what kind of job you need to get. I can take care of us. I can take care of our family.” He puts his hand on her belly. Wanda melts into his touch as her eyes focus on his hand. There could be a baby growing inside. A baby that will change her life. But she doesn't want to fall into the trope. She refuses to give up her dreams of her career just because she had gotten pregnant by a man with means to care for her. She won't be seen as a gold digger. She won't have people believing that she trapped him into marrying her. She looks up at him with tears in her eyes. She shakes her head. 

“No, I still want to work. I would never expect you to take care of our family on your own,” she says softly. Vision's features twitch slightly but he doesn't react too much. He nods and pulls her into a tight embrace. That was not his plan. He wanted a stay at home wife, not a career woman. But he had to be careful. He knew that he could convince her eventually. When she would inevitably get stressed, he knew he could point out that it's not healthy for the baby. He knew that when she couldn't keep up with the housework and the baby and work that he could tell her to quit her job. He just had to be patient. In the end, Vision always got what he wanted.

“Okay, just know that you have the option. You might feel different later on and that's okay,” he says as he strokes her hair. Doing his best to sound supportive. 

Wanda grows emotional as she clutches his shirt. “I'm scared, Vis. I don't think I'm ready,” she admits against his chest with a shaky tone.

Present Day 

That Friday you arrive at her house an hour before the party is supposed to start so that you can help her decorate and set up. She is grateful for the help but she acts a bit standoffish. Since her conversation with her mom about her relationship with you, she has been spiraling. She skipped her therapy session because she wanted to see if she could manage her emotions on her own but unfortunately that only left her to be shut off from the world. 

You could sense that something was off about her but you couldn't ask about it because part of you knew it was something that needed time and care and couldn't be solved in a brief conversation. So you did your best to be helpful and out of the way. 

As the party began and parents and their children began to arrive, you noticed Wanda begin to perk up. But something still felt off about her. You tried not to linger around her too much. You stay with Pietro for some time. Chatting about how exciting it is to be done with one building and starting construction on another. The conversation moves to him asking you questions about your small business and how that's going. 

Later on you're talking with Carol and Val about their wedding plans and you get excited about their ideas for their wedding and offer to build them an arbor as a gift. They try to shut you down and offer to pay but you convince them otherwise. Insisting that it's the only gift idea that you can actually pull off successfully. 

Wanda’s gaze wanders over to you every now and then. She watches you laugh and engage with her friends and family. She watches you play with the kids when they start running around you. She doesn't want to, but she can't help but compare you to her ex husband. How he would have only paid attention to who he deemed the prettiest woman at the event. Even or especially if she was married. How if the kids came up to him, he would brush them off and tell them to go play with other kids. And when he remarried, the only reason he would talk to people was to show off his new wife. 

Eventually you catch on to Wanda staring at you and you relax a little. You casually walk towards her and tip your head towards the stairs. Inviting her for a private conversation. She subtly nods and you make your way up the stairs without anyone noticing. 

For Wanda, it isn't as easy. She has friends come up to her. She has a kid that's never been to the house before asking where the bathroom is. She is pulled every which way until finally, her mom steps in to get her out of conversations and helping others. 

It takes her roughly thirty minutes to join you upstairs in her bedroom. She finds you sitting at the edge of her bed, patiently waiting. 

“Hey,” she says in a soft tone as she enters the room. Carefully shutting the door behind her so that it doesn't draw any attention. 

You perk up and sit up with a warm smile. “Hey you,” you greet her. “Are you doing okay?” You ask as she sits next to you with a deep sigh. She lays her head on your shoulder and you grow worried again. 

“It's hard to talk about with you because it's about us and you. But it's mostly about me. I don't want to hurt you or scare you,” she tries to explain her complicated feelings that she is struggling to voice. You nod and take her hand in yours to provide her some comfort as you listen to her. 

“Have you talked to your therapist about it?” You ask as you rub your thumb on the back of her hand. She nods her head. The fact that this is still bothering her tells you that this isn't something that can be solved in an hour session with her therapist. “What about with your mom?” You ask in order to understand her a bit better.

“I have, somewhat. She's very encouraging of you, by the way. I wouldn't be surprised if she has started a Pinterest board for our wedding.” She jokes as she starts to move her fingers. You huff out a breathy laugh at the idea. You tilt your head to lean against hers.

“Alright, well none of your friends know about us. So I believe that leaves me as your only option,” you keep your tone light, not wanting her to think you're making a joke of her dilemmas, but still trying to cheer her up a bit. “Look, I want you to be able to come to me about anything. No matter how uncomfortable it may be for the both of us. But I'm not going to pressure you into talking to me if you're not ready to do that yet. That's part of taking it slow. We're gaining each other's trust in order to have difficult conversations.” 

Wanda stops moving her fingers and wraps her hand around yours to give it a soft squeeze. “Thank you,” she says. You squeeze back and kiss the top of her head. 

“We should get back to the party,” you suggest. Wanda nods and rises. She looks down at you, finally looking at you for the first time since she walked in. She doesn't see any anger or frustration in your expression. She only sees love and concern. She couldn't express herself to her ex-husband without him appearing annoyed or upset in some way. 

Wanda surprises you with a soft chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you,” she whispers. 

You smile and kiss her again. “I love you,” you say before letting go of your hand. You step out of her room first and rush to get away from the area without anyone noticing. Then Wanda rejoins the party a couple of minutes later. 

Many Years Ago 

“Wanda, I thought you were mature enough to handle this!” Vision shouts at her. They were celebrating his birthday but with that, came his favorite foods that were triggers for Wanda’s morning sickness. She had to run out of the room as soon as he brought the food out. The retching sounds disgusted him. Vision could hardly stand it. 

Since Wanda was a great student and had enough credits to graduate early which she opted to do because she didn't want to have to answer too many questions about her pregnancy. It upset Vision because he expected her to simply drop out. He got scared and as though his plan was falling apart. Then she agreed to wait on getting a job until the baby could be put in daycare. It was a huge relief for him.

The two moved in together shortly after she completed her final class. Since she was no longer a student, she gave up her dorm room. It was a major adjustment for the couple. They were not very compatible as cohabitants. She wasn't as neat as he expected her to be. She was exhausted from the pregnancy and it was hard for her to pick up after the both of them. Vision got upset every time he had to clean his own messes that he expected her to clean up before he returned. But he thought he was able to keep his cool. 

Wanda is in tears as he snaps at her yet again. She doesn't understand what she is doing wrong. This pregnancy is hard on her. She's nauseous much longer in the day than the morning. She isn't able to keep fit the way Vision keeps asking her to be. Nothing feels comfortable to wear. She can't go anywhere anymore. 

“I'm sorry Vis,” Wanda says through her tears. “The boys are just-” 

“What did you say?” Vision’s tone shifts into one of shock. 

“I-I-I shoot! I ruined the… hold on,” Wanda walks away to grab one of the presents she bought to surprise him. It was a T-shirt with the ultrasound of the twin boys she was carrying. The shirt said “Boy Dad” along the top of the ultrasound image. She hands him the gift and as he opens it she explains, “At my last appointment I found out that we're having twins. And they're both boys.” She wipes her tears as she watches Vision for his reaction. 

“We're having two boys?” He gasps, stunned by the news. Then he looks at Wanda with a wide grin. “We're having boys!” He envelopes her in a big hug to hold her close and kisses her in celebration. 

Present Day 

“Mom!! Look!” Billy proudly holds one of his presents up as him and Tommy unwrap their presents. The party was over, everyone had gone home except for Pietro and his family. The boys were eager to open their presents as they arrived with the guests but thankfully the other kids distracted them until the party was over. 

“Wow! That's a nice present, who is it from?” Wanda asks as she writes down the name of the toy on a notepad. Billy rummages through the gift bag to find a card or tag. He finds a small gift card at the bottom of the bag and hands it to his mom so she can read it. She marks it down. 

“Uncle P! Thank you!” Tommy shouts as he pulls out a box with a picture of a drone on it. Wanda shakes her head and groans. 

“Why did you get him that? I told you not to,” Wanda sighs. 

“Because it's cool!” Pietro cheers. 

“It's so cool!” Tommy says with a grin.

Billy gets a saddened look on his face and Pietro notices. He pushes a box of similar size towards his nephew. “Don't think I forgot about you, pal,” he says and Billy lights up as he tears into the wrapping paper. Another drone is revealed as Billy and Pietro cheer. Wanda can't help but imagine all of the ways the boys will get in trouble with the drones. “Happy birthday boys,” Pietro says as his nephews pile on him to thank him with hugs. 

Once the mess from the presents is cleaned up and Pietro and his wife have left with their sleeping girls and the new toys are put away, Wanda is tucking her boys into their beds. 

“Mom?” Billy asks softly as Wanda smooths the blanket over her boy. 

“Yes, Billy,” Wanda asks in a soft tone. 

“I'm glad we didn't invite dad today,” he says as he looks down at his hands. “He can be mean sometimes. And he really doesn't like Y/n. We have to lie sometimes so he doesn't get mad that we saw Y/n.” 

Wanda takes a deep breath as she smooths Billy's hair down. “I'm sorry that you have to lie to your dad.” 

Billy shrugs, “It's okay. I like hanging out with Y/n. They're cool. They never get mad at me when I'm talking and they help me when I have problems. And sometimes when I don't understand some of my school work and they're here, I ask and they will show me so it makes sense.” His eyes get bright as he talks about you to his mom. It warms her heart to know that you're helping her boys with their school work. 

“Yeah, they are really good at making things make sense,” Tommy says from his bed. “Dad just says we should know this stuff and walks away. The only thing dad wants to teach us is sports. Which I like but he gets really mad at Billy.” 

Wanda looks between her boys, paying attention to the one that is speaking each time. As she hears about how her ex-husband treats their kids she shakes her head and mentally curses him out. He always claimed their kids would be smart because they were his kids. They are smart kids, but they both struggle with school work. It's not their fault, it can get confusing and sometimes they just need it to be explained in a different way in order for them to really grasp the subject. She knows this and so does Vision. But Vision is a lazy parent in this aspect. He believes that whatever explanation the teacher gave is all the boys need in order to get their homework and school work done. And because he teaches all day at the college, he refuses to come home and have to teach again. Which meant Wanda was left to do it on her own and is one of her biggest concerns when her boys go to his house because she's not there to help them with their homework. 

“Is that true?” Wanda looks down at Billy again. Her son nods with a frown and scratches his nose. 

“Yeah, I don't like sports. I like dancing and I even want to try out for the school play this year. But dad said no. I have to stick with sports,” he sighs, his expression of disappointment squeezing Wanda's heart. 

“Don't worry about him. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Okay?” She says as he combs her fingers through his hair. Billy smiles a little as he looks up at his mom. 

“You're the best mom ever. Did you know that?” Billy says sweetly. Wanda smiles down at her boy. Right now she feels like the worst mom for having chosen Vision to be their father. But she can't go back in time and change that because then she wouldn't have Billy and Tommy. She can't imagine life without them. 

“Alright boys, get some rest. I'm sure your father has something planned for your birthday tomorrow,” she says as she gives them each one last kiss on their foreheads. As she is about to leave the room, she stops at the light switch. “I love you both. Happy birthday,” she smiles and flips the switch and closes the door before heading to bed. 

Twelve Years Ago 

Wanda is lying in the hospital bed, sweaty and exhausted. She has one of her newborn sons in her arms, her second child is in the arms of his father. She has tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe it. She is a wife and mother. She has a loving husband who hasn't stopped staring at the baby in his arms since the moment he picked him up. 

“They're perfect,” Wanda whispers. 

“Of course they are. They came from us,” he says happily. His eyes never leave the baby in his arms. He can’t stop gazing at his boy. His first born son. “You are perfect Billy,” he whispers to the baby. He chose the name William after William Shakespeare because it's a well recognized name. One day he hopes that William Vison Stark is just as recognized because he plans to raise him to be one of the most brilliant, powerful and successful men in history. Before, second, or equivalent to his brother Tommy. He was named after Thomas Edison. A great inventor. He hopes that his son gets the Stark genetics in that regard. His family is known to be great inventors. One day his brother, Anthony, will be a thing of the past because his son Thomas Erik Stark will be known as the greatest innovator. He will make certain of it. 

Wanda is gazing down at her son Tommy, the baby is kicking slightly and she knows that he was the baby that kicked the most. “I can’t wait to know you,” she whispers. “I promise to protect your hopes and dreams. She smoothes down his tuft of hair and kisses his forehead. She is excited to tell her father her son’s middle name. Since she told him about her pregnancy, he would jokingly ask her that if the baby is a boy, she should name him after her father. Then she revealed that she was having two boys and he said “That’s perfect! One is named Erik, the other Magnus!” Wanda shakes her head at the memory. The remainder of her pregnancy, she spent fighting the men in her life on naming her kids after them. Then Vision came up with a compromise of having their middle names carry on his name and her fathers name. 

“We are going to raise great men,” Vision grins at his wife. 

Wanda giggles, “Let’s enjoy them as babies while we can.” 

“Okay,” he says and leans over to kiss her lips. “I can agree to that. I love you.” 

Wanda gives him a sleepy smile, “I love you too.”

Chapter 25

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @diealittlesometime @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm @casualreadersstuff @neopolitan-torchwick @inarayofmoonlight

[nonnewtonianracoon]

Okay, I was listening to music and my mind hurt my own feelings so I spent four hours expanding on that! All characters and storyline is from @scientificallywrongsoap and his heart wrenching countdown series on tiktok, the song lyrics are Thank You by The Jolly Rogers, and the pain is ours to share. Grab a pet or stuffed animal, some tissues, and whatever other comfort you need, and strap in because it's long and painful 🙂

We all laugh and tell old stories

Just sittin' in the dark

And not one of them knows that

When we land I'll disembark

Pain, unlike Smith has ever felt. He thought he knew pain, but fuck, it feels like Zed injected lava instead of Ed’s serum. Cuts, breaks, bruises, even bullet wounds he’s nursed time and time again, but this is different. All consuming, stealing his breath as his body begins to mutate. He can feel it before the changes become visible, and he gasps and tenses, hands trembling as he rips off his mask. His desire for privacy is overtaken by the desperate ache in his chest, lungs screaming for fresh air, and he barely notices Zed’s eyes widen as he sees his face, *his* face, for the first time. It’s like looking in an old mirror, the streaks and chips distorting it slightly, a myriad of scars that don’t match, but the base is the same, faces nearly identical even as they’re currently masks of a Venn diagram of expressions: one shocked, one tortured, both terrified. Smith’s racing heart sinks in his chest as a cold feeling of dread washes over him.

We've spent so much time together

Out prowling on the sea

That somehow this strange group of men became a family

Family. What a strange concept. Foreign and familiar all at once. He’s got the Shadows, certainly, but since coming here it’s been…different. He loves his brothers, deeply and fiercely, but it feels almost programmed into him to do so. Not necessarily an obligation, but an unquestionable fact. But the others, the men he’s met since coming to help the doctor with this project, the ones he begrudgingly calls friends only within the privacy of his own mind… they grew on him, like a particularly stubborn fungus, or a wart he just couldn’t dig out the root of. Love is a bit of a strong word, but as his mind whirls through years of memories, he’s surprised to find a lot of them are from the last few months, as opposed to the collage of solely memories of his unit as he had expected. They say the last seven minutes of your life, your brain tries to comfort you by playing a highlight reel; who’d have thought this bunch of chronically ridiculous bastards would have wormed their way into mine so quickly?

We started out no more than boys

With more guts than brains

Doing what they said could not be done

They thought we were insane

But of course, as expected, there are many memories of his brothers. Well, brothers and sister, he mentally amends. I wonder if she’ll ever work up the courage to tell Graves. We all know he’d accept her, but I also understand the fear. How my heart was pounding almost as fast then as it is now when he followed me to that bar, and how worried I was about his reaction, and his dumbass idea was just to throw a paper airplane of “wingman” tips at me with a wink, leave a list of resources and surprisingly helpful books on my bed, and an offer to listen or pretend it never happened. Memories of explosions, fireworks and C4, laughs and screams, kites and drones, life and death, all flashing before his mind’s eye even as the ceiling blurs above him, tears and sweat stinging his eyes as his hands tangle in Zed’s shirt, fighting to stay as aware as possible, time warping around him.

One by one they wandered to their bunks, ready for another day

And I'm left alone here with the stars

Where they can't hear me say:

Thank you, lads, for all you are

And all you've been to me

Thank you for the laughter and

For all the memories

Thank you, for being there

Through the good times and the bad

And thank you for being the best mates I've ever had

Nobody knows. Nobody but Zed and Doc. It was never even discussed to tell the others; not the specifics, anyway. Everything was relatively normal tonight, heightened emotions and anticipation hidden by a practiced facade of disinterest and sarcastic humor. The König brothers had made dinner for everyone; Jack found a new recipe for some ridiculous dessert. It was so bad, but everyone mutually agreed to eat it anyway and choke it down with a smile. The kid had worked so hard on it, and nobody wanted to hurt his feelings. While Jack is a grown man too, every bit as capable and vicious as the rest, he has a fragile quality that tugs at Smith’s protective side. Not quite like WZ and his ridiculous projected naivety, he thinks as a choked laugh bubbles in his aching chest and burning throat, the stupid little pink cat ear headphones he manipulated his way into possession of popping into his head unbidden. No, Jack has an optimism and hope that’s managed to stay untarnished through everything, and the way the kid had literally started radiating a soft yellow when everyone complimented his efforts was worth the horrendous experience of the dessert currently re-appearing all over the floor, forced from Smith’s body as he writhes in agony as a raw scream tears from his throat.

We have seen success and we've watched our fortunes grow

And we have shared more happy times than many men will know

We were all there together when each of us found a wife

Love was something he had never envisioned for himself. Didn’t think it to be possible before coming here, not for someone like him. Stained from the moment he entered the world, designed instead of conceived, honed instead of raised. But watching Swagger and 7-1, as well as WZ and Ghost, he had started toying with the idea, and now the what ifs swirl through him, as bright and hot as embers in the breeze, pinpricks of pain that have nothing to do with the serum overtaking his entire being.

And we proudly watched the children grow

And have a happy life

Childhood. What a novel idea. The thought of being so small, so defenseless and helpless, utterly dependent on the adults around you… it terrifies him. Children terrify him, he’s always known he wanted nothing to do with kids, even as Graves made sure they had as much of a chance to be kids as he could provide. Decorating a Christmas tree, brightly wrapped boxes, chalk and stuffed toys mixed in with new weapons and survival guides. Days where they’d run around a training field with paintball guns or bubble wands instead of actually doing something useful, or watch animated movies with popcorn and candy, building impressive but sloppy forts with blankets and pillows. Graves has his faults, to be sure, but he also did his best to balance what their existence was curated for with the life he said they deserved, and Smith finds himself more thankful for that now than ever before.

And we have shared great tragedy

That none should bear alone

And with every loss and heartache

Our brotherhood has grown

I'm not the first to leave, it's true

Some have gone before

I know without me the crew

Will reinvent once more

Zachariah. Victor. Aaron. Jacob. Eric. They’re skilled, but they’re not perfect, and sometimes good plans go bad. It’s like losing a limb every time, a part of his soul going cold, a corner of his mind going dark, a nail in the coffin of his sanity every time one of his brothers falls. But they always come back stronger, angrier, out for revenge. Some of their best ops were carried out in the name of vengeance. He distantly hopes nobody that doesn’t deserve it gets hurt, the only ones at fault being himself and Ed. Zed and the rest have no blood on their hands, they don’t deserve retribution for his choices.

Thank you, lads, for all you are

And all you've been to me

Thank you for the laughter and foe all the memories

Thank you, for being there

Through the good times and the bad

And thank you for being the best mates I've ever had

As the pain intensifies, Smith hears yelling. A small flicker of hope in his chest as the doctor walks in, but it quickly fades as Ed’s eyes fill with disgust and distant loathing, looking at him like nothing but the bodily fluids pooling around him on the floor, cold and clinical, nothing like the warm amusement he thought had been there mere hours ago. Broken tools aren’t worth their space on the shelf, he thinks bitterly, hands tucking under his chin as Zed shoves them off him. A bolt of panic shoots through Smith’s heart, sharp and white hot. “Please,” he tries to say, but the thick, swollen lump of his tongue won’t move right and all that comes out is a disheartened wheeze as his teeth enlarge and change shape, morphing to razor sharp fangs within his gums. Please, he thinks desperately, please don’t leave. I don’t want to die alone, I don’t want you to go, please don’t walk away too. Don’t leave me, please….

With that the coughing starts again

The crimson hard to hide

Hands, on his throat. A sharp pinch, different enough from the agony of the mutations that it stands out. Heat flowing into him, but not the burning flame of the serum; comforting, like sunshine on a spring day. His eyes fly open, eyes he didn’t realise had fallen shut. The foolish engineer crouched above him, silhouetted against the glaring fluorescent light like an angel, even as he curses himself for thinking something so repulsively, dreadfully cliche. But Zed is visibly irate, trembling with righteous fury even as he handles Smith like he’s made of porcelain, touch achingly tender as he monitors the flow of something into the cannula he’s inserted into Smith’s jugular. The substance becomes apparent as the mutations slow, the pain easing slightly, and hope buds again as he stares into the same eyes that greet him from his reflection, as dizzying now as every time before. The weirdest deja vu, even with his unit, he’s never been able to get used to it.

I'm sorry my brothers

Hope you never know I lied

Omission. The guilt is eating him alive; he thought they’d never need to know. His friends here, his family there, he was foolish enough to believe he’d be able to handle this tonight and go back to life tomorrow. Hubris, pure and simple. He had too much faith in himself, and didn’t think to so much as leave a video or note. He thought he was being noble, thought he’d be doing a good thing by helping them, but now he just feels selfish for not having a backup plan for this. He’d had too much faith in the doctor, blind faith, and now he’ll be little more than a cautionary tale once they find out exactly what happened.

But this one won't get better, lads

And I know it's true

So I choose to walk away before I burden you

The pleasant warmth is fading, the australium not doing enough to counteract the serum, and Smith now knows with certainty he’s going to die tonight. There’s no peace, no grim satisfaction of a job well done, no morbid excitement at the possibility of reuniting with his fallen brothers, just the cold claws of failure sinking into his heart as Zed’s tears fall on Smith’s face, the former having noticed the pain creeping back into the latter’s eyes and reaching the same bitter, cold realization.

I will say the time is right

For me to go my way

And I know you'll understand

Or at least that's what you'll say

The excuses he’d made when he came here, the cajoling and borderline begging he’d had to do to try to get permission, the way it failed and he slipped out in the night because this felt so goddamn important he was willing to risk everything to help. The excuses he’d made to himself to justify it, staying in contact with a couple of his brothers to keep them from panicking and launching a search party. How he’d had the lecture of his life when Graves found him and called him back, and he had to explain everything and promise seventy three times, in ninety two ways, seventeen silly voices, twelve ridiculous accents, and four languages to ***be careful*** and here he is, dying on a cold tile floor because he overestimated his abilities; something they’d all been warned against from the start. He’d been so sure he was making the right call, but now he’s no longer able to justify it to himself. The harsh reality is unforgiving and he finds himself wishing for just one more. One more stupid movie in a blanket fort, one more adrenaline crazed mission, one more stupid dad joke from Ghost, one more day of chasing bubbles in the sun and drawing chalk flowers and practicing penmanship on the concrete parking lot, one more godawful meal that’s somehow undercooked and burnt but still tastes better than the most expensive restaurant because it was made with care…

I will wish you luck and watch you sail upon the sea

For the first time in forever

I will just be me

What will it be like? To not be part of a unit? Every day, dozens of iterations of his own face swarm around him. Tiny differences, but nearly identical. He’s always had his own opinions and preferences, but he’s never been a singular person. Even here, he’s nearly a carbon copy of Zed. How nobody ever noticed is beyond him….. He’s never considered the afterlife, never really felt drawn to; now is probably the best time to do it, he muses as his mind starts to separate from his body and the growing distance between his mind and the soul shredding agony allows his thoughts to begin to clear and grow more cohesive. But what’s the point in speculation? He’ll be finding out soon enough, anyway.

Thank you, lads, for all you are

And all you've been to me

Thank you for the laughter and for all the memories

Thank you, for being there

Through the good times and the bad

And thank you for being the best mates I've ever had

A conversation, words exchanged between himself and Zed, each breath growing more shallow and ragged. Tears from both men, twin expressions of guilt for different reasons, and a twin hatred for the man they butted heads over for so long. Animosity for each other morphing and joining, aimed at the doctor who’s hands are now stained with Smith’s blood even though it’s Zed’s that spilled it.

Thank you, lads, for all you are

And all you've been to me

Thank you for the laughter and

For all the memories

Thank you, for being there

Through the good times and the bad

And thank you for being the best mates I've ever had

Forgiveness and acceptance, even as the fire within him grows unbearable, even as words start to lose meaning and become abstract shapes in his ears, the world going dark around him. Hearing is the last sense to go, and through the heavy darkness overtaking him, Smith hears a variation of the same vow he himself has made, five times over. A vow of revenge.

Thank you for being the best

Mates I've ever had

I hope you laughed and cried, and I am immensely proud of this so be nice or I might cry. Alas, Glitch has set these characters loose in the world and they have been plaguing me, so I decided to take the muse and skedaddle. (Also this is my formal written apology for the Graves slander in your comments, Glitch. I hope it suffices.)

I hope I did them justice, and I hope you suffer as much reading this as I did writing it 😁💜

[trainer-from-unova]

day on the green

𖤐 bandom blog: @princess-lvcifer 𖤐 english ao3 𖤐 spanish ao3 𖤐 edits 𖤐 kofi 𖤐 𝄞 𖤐

ship: eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you travel with your best friend through the country to go to a metal festival in San Francisco with him

a/n: lots of metallica references as usual / i wrote this in summer 2022 / english isn't my first language, sorry if something's weird expressed

cw: fluff, best friends to lovers, sexual and romantic tension, sexual humor, affectionate insults

word count: 12'1k

"______, Eddie's calling," said her mother, entering her room without knocking or asking permission. She was listening to Metallica at full volume and knew she probably wasn't going to hear her.

"I'm coming," she said dropping the magazine she was reading, leaving it at the foot of his bed and getting up from it to go downstairs to where the house phone was. "Hey, what's up?" She wanted to hold back the urge to smile like the lovesick fool she was, since her mother was circling the house like a shark, and she didn't want her to know she liked him, not because she was ashamed of him or because her mother thought he was a bad influence — on the contrary, she and Eddie got along well, she didn't see him as a bad guy, but who would want her mother to know which boy she liked? And on top of that he was a close friend who often went to her house.

"Are you at home?" he asked nervously.

"Can't you see I am, asshole?" She asked now. "What's wrong?"

"Okay, don't move from there, I'm on my way," he said, and hung up.

"You fucking asshole," she whispered to herself, she hated being left wondering, she was worried, but knowing Eddie it wouldn't be serious. The most serious thing that could happen was that he'd get caught smoking or selling weed.

She didn't hear Eddie park his van in front of her house because her music was on full blast, but if it wasn't for that, she would have heard him. She had good hearing and recognised the noise made by the engines of his loved ones' cars. She could also recognise the sound of keys or footsteps as they walked.

What she did hear was the doorbell of the house in the distance. She got out of bed and turned the music down, it was obvious that Eddie was there to tell her something, although she had no idea what, but she'd better be able to hear it loud and clear, she'd listen to her favourite songs loud and clear at any other time.

The door to her room was open, so he didn't ask permission to enter. He was practically at his houss, but he did leave it ajar when he entered.

"What is it?" She asked indignantly as she sat cross-legged on her bed. "You've got me fucking intrigued!"

"Boom," he said, raising his right hand, in which he held a pamphlet. She could clearly see names of rock and metal bands she knew: Scorpions, Ratt, Y&T, Metallica, Rising Force, Victory.... Though his eyes went to her favourite band, Metallica, hardly paying attention to the others, as she didn't care that much about them.

Eddie took off his shoes and sat down on her bed, facing her, also with his legs crossed.

"It's this year's Day on the Green," he said, handing her the sheet, "Saturday 31 August. The next day it's Wham! and some other pop bands I obviously don't want to see. I've always wanted to go. We have to go, I won't take no for an answer."

"18'50$... It's expensive, and in Oakland! How are we going to get there, if we go at all?"

"But it's worth the price! And we can go by bus, or by plane, or in my caravan... Yeah, I think my caravan would be better. Think about it, you and me, travelling around the country in a caravan, listening to our favourite songs and shouting them out, and then listening to them played live by their creators and together with more fans..." He couldn't fit the smile on his face and his eyes were shining, it was adorable when he looked so excited, you could tell he liked what he was talking about. "It's a great plan, you can't say no," he said pointing his right hand with his index finger.

It was true, it was a great plan and she couldn't say no to him. And she really wanted to live such a unique experience with him, and alone, but the money issue put her off, and she didn't know what her mother would say about it.

"And on top of that, it's the summer holidays, you can't give me the excuse of school."

"Yes, but the money and my mother..."

"Don't worry about the money, you know..." He whispered.

Yes, it was true, he was loaded from selling weed, but it was bad for her to accept that he paid her entrance fee and everything, and that he drove and paid for the petrol.

"Even though you're failing all your science subjects, you're a good girl, I'm sure she'll let you have a whim like that. And I'm sure she doesn't think too badly of me, does she?"

"I hope so... But before we say anything, we should organise it a bit, so that she sees that we're not going on a wild adventure, that we're organised, and get her in a good mood."

"I see the logic of it, but it has to be as soon as possible, tickets may fly."

"Then let's get down to work. We must go to the library to consult maps and their routes."

That's what they did. They worked out how long the trip would take to get there and back, when they would have to leave Hawkins and when they would be back, motels to spend the night in, gas stations, how much money each of them would have to take with them to pay for expenses, how much the whole trip would cost, and a little emotional and psychological blackmail to use on _______'s mother if needed.

The next day, she let her mother know that Eddie would be going to dinner in the evening and that they wanted to tell her something important. The second she thought they wanted to tell her that they had been together for a long time or even worse, like a pregnancy, but she cleared her worries by telling her it was nothing of the sort.

"I want you here at six o'clock sharp. Get ready," she told him as she got out of Eddie's caravan in front of her house. Her house was between the school and his house, so he was her taxi driver.

"I know, I know."

"Isn't he coming in yet?" asked her mother when she saw her walk in the front door alone.

"No, he's going home to get ready," she said as she made her way to the stairs and took her backpack off her shoulders, "or did you want him to get ready here?"

"What should I make him for dinner?"

"Whatever you want, he'll eat it all pleased," she said on the first floor.

Hours passed and the doorbell rang. It was time. Luckily, he had been on time. For what he wanted to do, he was, but not for his early morning classes at school.

Eddie wasn't that uncomfortable, because he already knew the mother of his best and only female friend, but she had told him that her mother saw him as a possible boyfriend, so he knew what was going through her mind when she saw him with her daughter (the same thing happened with some people at school), and that made him ashamed, because on top of that, at least on his part, he did feel something for _______, something more than friendship.

And well, besides, it was the first time he had dinner and spent so much time with her mother, and of course, there was also the main plan, the mission they had to achieve: to convince her to let her go with him on a trip around the country and go to that metal festival. Technically she didn't need her permission, since she was already 18, but being a woman and still living under her roof, for things like that it was better to have her approval.

"Well, what is it that you wanted to tell me? Intrigue kills me," said her mother, as the three of them sat down at the table.

"Like mother, like daughter," he thought.

"Well, mom, as you know, I love metal, and so does he. It's a music that has helped me a lot in many ways for a long time, and so has Eddie, even though we've known each other for half a year. There's going to be a festival in Oakland on Saturday the 31st of August and we'd really like to go. We've thought about going in his caravan, both of us driving every couple of hours. Also, because of the proximity, we'd like to visit San Francisco and Los Angeles for at least a day, and we'd come back through the south, through the Bible Belt. He has insisted on paying for everything but I have told him no, I could pull from my savings or start working a bit. We've also looked at routes and motels to sleep in, and if anything should happen to the car Eddie is a good mechanic and has all the necessary equipment. I would call you every time we stopped at a place with a phone box. And I think I deserve to go to the festival, plus it's something that would make me very happy and travelling around the country in a car would be an experience..."

"And of course I would look after her in every way, you don't have to worry about anything," he said as seriously as she did.

"Of course, of course," she pointed her index finger at him, giving him a quick glance and a quick nod.

She looked at each of them and a smirk appeared on her face. They were both already fearing the worst.

"All this to ask me to take you on a trip and go to a concert?" she asked incredulously while holding back her laughter.

"...Yes?"

"For God's sake, you don't need to worry so much, you're both old enough to ask my permission. Besides, I can't wait for you to see the world and get wise," she said looking only at her daughter.

"So, ma'am, does that mean yes?" asked Eddie.

"Of course it does," she replied, and they both looked at each other smiling from ear to ear and high-fived.

She looked at them tenderly. It was obvious to her that they were both in love with each other.

Time passed ridiculously slowly.

During the months of waiting before the festival began, Eddie slightly increased the prices of the weed he sold, and started giving private guitar lessons to kids in town to earn a little extra and to disguise where he was getting the money to afford the trip. Meanwhile, she started giving drawing, English and Spanish classes to other kids.

On the first day of May Live Aid was announced, but despite being closer than Oakland, as it would be held in Philadelphia and would be no more than a day's drive (not counting the return trip), it was too expensive. 35$ each ticket. The price was understandable, as the event was going to be an unprecedented spectacle, where many people would be working for a good cause, but they already had enough expenses with what the Day on the Green tickets cost and the trip they would be making. Besides, even if they didn't go to the festival, raising so much money in such a short time was quite difficult, as Live Aid would be on 13th July, and tickets flew quickly, and rightly so, seeing the list of artists who were going to attend to help the cause.

Anyway, they watched Live Aid together on TV and that made them want to go to Day on the Green even more.

And finally the day came for them to go on the trip. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't climbing the walls like Spiderman herself because she was so nervous. She had never left Indiana, she had never made such a long trip, both in terms of distance and days, and she had never been separated from her mother for such a long time. But at least she was going to experience all that with her best friend and the boy she was in love with.

She had been ready since the day before and had gone through her luggage four times, and was about to do it for the fifth time, when a clack sounded outside her house. It was him, no doubt about it. She almost had a heart attack. It was time to go.

She left the house with the luggage and she and her mother pretended to put the things in the caravan, but he got off them and insisted on doing it himself.

As it was almost the end of August, and it was so hot, he was wearing no shirt and shorts. Both young friends were embarrassed for her mother to see him like that, but it was an understandable outfit because of the heat.

She hugged her mother goodbye and told her that she loved her very much. As the mother she was, she could feel her nervousness.

"Don't worry about anything, silly, you'll have a great time, you'll see," her mother whispered in her ear as they hugged.

"I know, but..."

"Before you go, I have to take a picture of you!" said her mother as they parted, "Come on, get together."

Eddie put his arm around ______'s shoulders and pulled her close to him, resting his head on hers, and she posed, making a peace sign with one of her hands. He made a devil sign with his free hand.

Her mother took the camera off her neck and handed it to her, they got into the car, both waved goodbye to her mother and Eddie drove off.

"I CAN'T WAIT!" he shouted.

"Same," she said, laughing a little nervously.

"Well, it doesn't look like it from you," he said, looking at her strangely, "what's wrong?"

"It's nerves, don't worry."

"Nerves about what?"

"To make such a trip, to be so far away from my home and my mother for so long, my comfort zone."

"I mean, it would fuck me up at this point, but if you don't want to go, there's still time for me to turn back..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?! No way, of course I want to go on the trip and to the festival, and I've got you on top of that. I wouldn't do this madness with just anyone."

"Do you consider going on a trip and to a festival a crazy thing?" he asked with a mocking smile.

"No, but yes, if it's that far away..."

"As long as you don't tell me to turn around when we're in Nebraska or something like that, it's all right," he said jokingly.

"You know I won't."

On the way they listened and sang along to the cassettes he had, and she brought her own too, so they wouldn't always be alone listening to his.

It was around lunchtime and Eddie had already been driving for a couple of hours, so they stopped to rest and eat.

"Wait, I have to put sunscreen on again," she said before getting back in the car. She had just finished talking to her mother on the phone. She had little to say to her, evidently.

"Really? That's a scam, it's not necessary."

"You're telling me you've been driving around shirtless in the sun for hours without sunscreen?"

"Of course I am."

"You're going to burn, you idiot!"

"No way, you exaggerator."

"Put it," she said, offering the bottle of sunscreen.

"No," she said with disgust.

She poured cream into her free hand, moved closer to him and directed her cream-filled hand to his collarbone, rubbing her hand over it, and trying not to look at his tattooed chest or his tablet, making a superhuman effort not to let her eyes wander to those areas of his body. That took him by surprise, but he kept still and quiet, accepting the gesture.

"Dampen down a little," she asked as she rubbed cream back into her hand, looking up, meeting his eyes. "Do you see how necessary this is?" She asked as she creamed his left cheek, inches from each other. "You're already red."

He was sure he wasn't red from the sun, but he shut up.

"Turn around," she asked again, and he again obeyed.

For a second she stared at his back. She thought is was beautiful and couldn't believe she was about to run hee hands over it. She pushed his hair forward with her little finger so as not to get even a little cream in it.

"Don't you want to put your hair in a high ponytail or a bun?" She asked as she ran her hand down his back. "You'd be cooler."

"I look ridiculous."

"I'm sure you wouldn't. Besides, what difference does it make if I see you like that?"

"A lot," he thought, "you're the only person whose opinion really matters to me."

When he noticed she was done, he turned and she offered him the bottle of sunscreen again. His arms, legs and torso remained. It was understandable, she wasn't going to rub it all over him, he was too old to follow and it would be very uncomfortable in many ways, especially touching his torso, although they both wanted to.

When he finished applying the cream, he gave her back the pot and hugged her tightly.

"You idiot, you're going to stain me and you're sweaty! Ugh!" and he laughed wickedly.

"Do you want me to help you lie on your back?" he asked as he let her out of his grip.

She was wearing shorts and a crop top.

"Okay," she said as she turned around. She didn't need to, she could do it on her own, but she wasn't going to refuse help, especially if it was about him touching her.

Eddie put cream on his right hand and directed his hand to her back. He was nervous, more so than he had been before, when she was creaming him. He didn't know how to touch her, but he knew he had to act normal, so he rubbed his hand across the uncovered part of her back with the mission to get the sticky cream off his hand as quickly as possible. He tried not to look too closely at her back, and his fingertips ended up inside her crop top, unintentionally brushing her bra for a second. Then he slid his hand down her right side to remove what little cream he had left, stopping when he brushed against her trousers. She loved the feel of his hand right then, in that place, like that, even though it probably wasn't a big deal and she was making a movie in her head. Then he pushed her hair forward and decided to rub cream on her neck, massaging it lightly.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

He got into the car, in the passenger seat, where she was before, and she quickly rubbed cream on her belly and legs, then sat in the driver's seat, where Eddie was before.

"Turn around and face the window," she said.

"For what?"

"You listen to me, okay?"

"Well... Okay."

She took off the extra hair tie she wore on her wrist as a spare in case she lost the one she was wearing and grabbed Eddie's hair, doing him a bun.

"Tell me, are you cooler right now?"

"Yes, but I'm sure I look ridiculous."

"You look gorgeous, as always," she said matter-of-factly, as she settled everything in the car so she could start driving.

After a few more hours they stopped again to stretch their legs and change drivers, had dinner at a fast food place and finally ended up at a motel, almost on the outskirts of the state.

When they entered the room they saw that there was only one bed.

"I'll go and ask for a room with two beds," he said, turning away.

"Eddie, it's night, and you're exhausted," she stopped him, taking him by the arm. "Come in, come on," she said, nodding her head.

"You don't care?" he asked, referring to sharing a double bed.

"I don't give a shit," she was even excited, but of course she wasn't going to say that, and she couldn't know that he did too, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way, so that's why he offered asking for a room with two beds.

They arranged their things and the first thing they wanted to do was to take a shower, they were exhausted, sweaty and sticky from the sun cream.

"I'll shower first," they both said at the same time, standing in the middle of the small room after sorting their luggage and taking things out. "...You first," they both said again at the same time, and laughed at the synchronicity and telepathy they sometimes had.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" she asked.

"Come on," he said, leaning closer to her.

They both kept their dominant hands behind their backs and recited the chant of the game at the same time.

"...and... three!" They both pulled their hands behind their backs at the same time, making their hands and fingers make the shape of the object they had chosen in their minds. She drew paper and he drew scissors, but as soon as he saw that she was losing the game, he turned his hand from scissors to stone, and then put his arm around her shoulders, making her walk towards the bathroom.

"You win, you first," he said.

"Dude!" she said, annoyed but laughing.

"Shhh."

"Well okay, but at least let me get some panties and my pajamas, or do you want me to come out of the bathroom naked?"

"All right, all right," he said letting go of her and raising his arms in the air as if he was being mugged.

She grabbed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Meanwhile, he pulled on his pajamas (aka boxer shorts), turned on the TV that was there, looked for MTV and sat on the edge of the bed to watch it. He wanted to lie down on the bed, but he didn't want to stink up the bed with the stench of his sweat or stain it.

When she came out of the bathroom her hair was wet, she was wearing only panties and a baggy T-shirt, and clearly no bra.

"Your turn," she said as she made her way to the bed to lie down on the left side of it.

He got up from the edge of the bed and went into the bathroom, which was full of steam.

"Did you take a hot shower, you crazy woman?" he asked before closing the door to get undressed and get into the shower.

"Yes," she replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world for the month they were in.

"It's the middle of August."

"Do you think I don't know that?" she asked, holding back her laughter, and then he, still surprised, closed the door.

She flicked through the television herself, but ended up back on MTV, then picked up the phone on the bedside table and called her mother again to let her know where they were and that they were okay.

He came out of the bathroom shortly after, wearing only short but baggy black boxer shorts and still with drops of cold water sliding off him, mostly running down his tattooed chest and back from his wet hair.

"Anything interesting on TV?" he asked as he lay down next to her on the bed.

"No, but we should turn it off now anyway," she said, referring to the fact that they had to get up early the next morning to continue driving.

"Yeah," he said, getting out of bed.

He went to turn off the television and the light, then turned on the ceiling fan and opened the window, then took off all his jewellery and watch, and finally lay back down on the bed with her, on her side, resting her head on his right arm. She moved into the same position facing him, and he could see her silhouette perfectly thanks to the little light coming in from outside the motel. Her T-shirt rode up slightly, revealing her belly.

She moved closer and snuggled up to him, which he gladly accepted and wrapped his free, left arm around her.

"I still can't process all of this, if you told me about this when we became friends..." she said as she looked at her friend's tattooed chest.

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe it either," he said, stroking her arm with his thumb.

It was the 27th of July last year, in the morning. She drove to her nearest record shop before they opened first thing in the morning. There was a queue of metalheads waiting in line outside the door, and she assumed they were there for exactly the same thing she was: to buy Metallica's new album, Ride the Lighting. Last year, having just released their first album, Kill 'em all, she had fallen completely in love with them and their style of music, and couldn't miss out on having the new album the instant it was released. She walked past all the metalheads standing there, until someone called out to her, catching her attention.

"_______!"

There he was, standing like the others, impatiently waiting for the shop to open to get his record.

They both knew each other from high school, despite not being in the same year or classes, and not being from popular groups, they understood and respected each other.

"Are you coming to get the new Metallica album?" he asked.

"Yes," and a big smile broke out on Eddie's lips as he gestured for her to come with him, standing next to him in the queue. "Thank you," she said for being a sneak. The person behind him pouted but fortunately didn't protest.

"I didn't know you liked Metallica, let alone knew them," he said, smiling. It was always a pleasure to meet people with the same musical tastes, especially when your tastes were considered strange and living in a small town.

"I can't say the same," she said smiling sideways, "it's pretty obvious looking at you that you do know them and many more rock and metal bands."

During the little while they waited in line they talked about how they met Metallica, their favourite songs from Kill 'em all, their favourite band members and asked each other if they liked other bands.

They went inside and went straight to get their copies of Ride the Lighting to take home.

"I'd love to listen to it together," he said as they left the shop after paying for the records, "and know each other's opinion of the songs instantly."

"Yeah," she said as they walked to the car park.

"I'd invite you to my place, but since my uncle works nights he sleeps in the mornings, and I'm going to have to listen to it," he said, referring to the record, "with my headphones on..."

"It's all right," she said. She could invite him to her house, since her mother was working and she had the whole house to herself, but she had just met him formally, she wasn't going to just invite him to her house. "I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"As soon as we get home we'll listen to it and when we're done we'll call each other to talk about it, what do you think?"

"That's fine with me."

They exchanged phone numbers and got into their cars and headed home to listen to the album for the first time.

Two minutes after she finished listening to the album, the phone rang. She knew it was him.

"What do you think?" he asked expectantly.

"I'm in shock, man."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"What do you think? Let's see."

"Good? Because come on, I loved it."

"Me too! Although I didn't like all the songs," she said with a wince as she ran her finger along the phone's curly cord.

"No? Really?!"

"Yes."

"Which ones didn't you like?"

"Fade to Black and The call of Ktulu or whatever the fuck it's called," she could hear a small chuckle on the other line.

"I don't think they're bad."

"No no, I'm not saying that, it's just that they're not my style, I need a lot more rhythm, apart from the fact that they're too long."

"Yeah, it's understandable. I do like them but they're not my favourites either."

"And which ones are?"

"I couldn't tell you, they're all very good..." he was thoughtful for a few seconds. "Maybe... My favourite is Creeping Death. The riff, the lyrics, James's voice... It's tremendous."

"I loved that one too! And For Whom the Bell Tolls. Ride the lighting too but not as much as those two. I need to listen to them on loop for hours, I swear, I loved them."

Who knew in that moment that that album would quickly become a gold album and that just over a year later they would hear them live with him on the other side of the country?

The next few days of the trip were pretty much the same as that day: driving for hours, changing drivers, putting on sun cream, stopping to eat and go to the toilet, calling her mother and his uncle, filling up with petrol, listening to their cassettes at full volume and singing loudly in the caravan, smoking tobacco, laughing, talking about silly things, taking pictures with the camera of _______, and taking showers and sleeping in motels.

It was Thursday night, and they were already in downtown Nevada, resting in the motel where they stayed that night. They were also in a room with only one bed, a double bed, but they didn't mind.

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight, I can't believe we'll be in Oakland by tomorrow. I could just keep driving right now," he said as they huddled together, and knowing him as well as she did, she knew it was true.

"Yeah, me too," she said, smiling as much as he was.

"I'm so glad you're my friend, I wouldn't be having this magical experience without you... I love you so much," he said smiling sweetly.

He really wanted to say so much more, he wanted to tell her how much he loved her, that she made him crazier than he already was, that he wanted to hold her tight and never let go, to kiss her and take care of her, but... He had to keep quiet. They had a precious friendship and if he confessed and she didn't reciprocate, which he assumed was most likely, it would probably make things very awkward between them and if he confessed during the trip, they wouldn't be able to run away from each other, having to share a car and rooms for days. It would be the worst-case scenario.

She assumed that he meant that he loved her very much as a person and as a friend, and nothing more. And he did mean that he loved her in those ways, but he also meant that he secretly loved her as a partner.

"I love you too," she said, smiling in the same way.

They stood for a few seconds looking into each other's eyes in silence, and for microseconds at times their eyes would wander to each other's lips.

Maybe it was the emotions running high, maybe it was the tiredness, maybe it was the night, maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the way they were cuddled up in that marriage bed, maybe it was that she was sick of hiding her feelings, maybe it was that she was too brave when she liked someone, maybe it was Eddie's words and that she wanted to have even a little faith that she could have more than friendship with him, or maybe it was all of the above at once, but she decided to bring her face close to his, ridiculously slowly for fear of screwing up.

He noticed and almost had a heart attack. He didn't know what was going through his best friend's mind, he didn't know how she felt about him, but according to him, it looked like she was getting close to his face to kiss him, which if it was true, he had to take advantage of the opportunity, so he decided to do the same as her: get close to her face in a ridiculously slow way.

But then they were stopped by noises from the people in the next room, and they weren't just any noises; they were noises of bed springs and moaning, especially from a woman.

They both stopped dead in their tracks, frozen in their tracks, staring at each other with wide eyes and trying not to piss themselves laughing.

"This is ridiculous, I swear," she whispered as she moved slightly away from him and lay on her back, "I can't believe it," she said, pillowing her ears, to no listen the moans.

"Why are you whispering? You aren't the one who should be quiet. Do you want me to knock on the wall?" he asked as he raised his left arm and put his hand on the wall.

"No, let them have a good time," she said, her pillow no longer acting as a hoof against the noise. "Besides, if you hit the wall, you'll break her," she said as he lay on his back like her.

"We're not going to sleep tonight, but not for what we thought."

"It probably won't be long before they're done."

"They'd better."

And there they were, lying on their backs staring at the ceiling, taking in what had just happened, or rather what might have happened... if it hadn't been for the two shamelessly scandalous people who were fucking like rutting animals in the next room. They were uncomfortable in many ways, although they had to admit that the situation was funny at the same time.

The next evening they were in Oakland. They went to dinner and to stretch their legs a bit, seeing a bit of the city, and then to rest at the hotel where they would sleep.

"There are a lot of good looking guys around here," she said as they walked back to the hotel, noticing that there were a lot of metalheads around town, and she assumed that many of them might be like them: not from there, not living there, but had travelled there to attend the festival. "Something tells me they're here for the same reason we are."

He didn't say anything, he knew perfectly well that his best friend was crazy about long-haired men because she said so on several occasions, but still, he didn't think he had a chance with her even if he had long hair.

They still couldn't believe that they were already there and that the next day after lunch they would be at the stadium enjoying themselves like crazy.

The next morning they decided to take the car and go sightseeing in San Francisco, passing over the Bay Bridge of course. They were aware that with how big the city was and how little time they had before they had to be ready to go to the stadium in Oakland they wouldn't be able to see much, but they weren't there for sightseeing and seeing how different it was to Hawkins was enough for them.

The concert started at two in the afternoon.

She insisted that they had better be there as soon as possible to get parking in the stadium car park and to queue as soon as possible, so they drove back to their hotel in Oakland to get their tickets and then to the stadium. They were both wearing Metallica T-shirts.

Fortunately Eddie bought the tickets a few days after the event was announced, so they had tickets to be on the field and not in the stands, which was too boring and far away from the stage. As soon as the gates to the field opened, they and everyone else ran as if they were being chased with a chainsaw to get to the front row, in front of the stage.

"Do you see how I was right to come early?" she asked. They were almost in the front row.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I saw on TV once that this kind of thing happened at concerts in stadiums, at a Michael Jackson concert."

The first band to play was Victory, then Rising Force, then Metallica. At last the moment they had been waiting for the most, the moment they had travelled thousands of miles from their hometown on the other side of their big country had finally arrived.

_______ started screaming with excitement, jumping of joy and grabbing Eddie's arm, almost cutting off his circulation and digging her nails in when she heard The Ecstasy of Gold, a song by Ennio Morricone from the soundtrack for the film The Good, the Bad and the Ugly that they always played at the beginning of their concerts two years ago as they went on stage and prepared to play.

"Are you all right?" he asked, laughing.

"AAAAAAH!" she said, waving his arm.

"I agree," he laughed, "Ride on my back," he said, bending down.

"Oh," she thought the suggestion was a good idea, but she felt bad for him, because he would have to carry her weight for all or most of their performance and he wouldn't be able to enjoy doing headbangs, or pogos, or even raising his hands in the metalhead's signature horns symbol. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, "ride."

"Okay, thank you very much, really."

"You don't have to give them," he said as she mounted his back and grabbed it.

She had her favourite band member, Cliff Burton, practically a few feet away from her. She felt like if she reached out and lifted her arm she could touch him, even though he was actually about 20m away.

They started playing one of their favourite songs: Creeping Death.

She wasn't the only one going crazy with excitement and singing her lungs out for the song, there were many more people in the audience full of excitement to see the band playing live, and she was happy for them. They were a very good band, and it was one of the first times, if not the first, that they had played in a stadium in front of so many people.

"DIE! BY MY HAND, I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND, KILLING FIRST-BORN MAN! DIE! BY MY HAND, I CREEP ACROSS THE LAND, KILLING FIRST-BORN MAN, DIEEEEEE!"

Eddie looked up and saw her singing loudly with a smile from ear to ear that didn't fit on her face. He had never seen her so happy, and his smile grew bigger. Then he turned his attention back to the group in front of him.

"OH YEAH?" shouted James Hetsfield, the band's vocalist and rhythm guitarist, into the microphone, and then he tilted his head towards the audience and put his hand to his ear, as if trying to sharpen his hearing. He was clearly playing with the audience.

"OH YEAH!" they shouted, and many more.

"OH YEAH?" James shouted again, doing the same as before.

"OH YEAH!" they shouted again.

"FUCKING RIDE THE LIGHTIIIIING!" shouted James into the microphone, and he and the rest of the band started playing that song. "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! ARE YOU FUCKING OUT THERE?" he shouted raising his hand, encouraging the audience to be loud when they were already halfway through the song. "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY!" he shouted in the same way almost at the end of the song, "I CAN'T FUCKING HEAR YOU!" he shouted as he put his hand to his ear. "HEY!"

Then he walked away from the microphone and stood next to Cliff. They were both doing headbangs and were perfectly in sync without even trying. Meanwhile, Kirk Hammett, the band's lead guitarist, on the other side of the stage was going more his own way.

When the song was over James walked over to the foot of the drum kit, where Lars Ulrich was standing, and picked up a small bottle of beer, probably fresh and alcoholic, and walked back to his microphone.

"ROCK AND ROOOOOLL!" shouted Eddie, and she laughed and shouted back.

"ARE YOU DOING ALL RIGHT?" asked James, and everyone shouted, "We've come here to kick some assess! [ . . . ] You know Cliff Burton over there?" He asked the crowd, pointing to his bandmate, the bass player. "Everyone, "Hey Cliff, how ya doing?"" he said waving his hand in greeting.

"HI CLIFF!" she and a few others shouted.

James stepped away from the microphone as he took a sip from the bottle of beer he had just picked up next to the drum kit, and Cliff began to play a bass solo while doing a light headbang, his head bent low and focused on the strings of his black bass while his hair moved incessantly, as did his fingers.

The best words to describe that bass solo were "Epic", "Legendary", "Magical", "Iconic", "Mind-blowing"... And it sounded like he was playing thunder instead of an instrument. ______'s eyes and mouth opened slightly without her noticing, and the hair on her body stood on end. Absolutely everyone was shocked, including Lars, who forgot to start playing the drums, and Cliff himself had to turn around and tell him he had to start playing. As soon as Lars started playing the drums, Cliff came back and played another epic bass solo.

She would recognise that rhythm anywhere, in any situation. It was For whom the bell tolls, and it was a song entirely written by Cliff. The smile on his face throughout the whole show, but especially during that song, was priceless. He kept doing headbangs, moving around the stage, gesticulating with his hands and singing to himself. You could tell he was excited to play that bass solo and his song in front of so many people enjoying it.

Then they started playing The Four Horsemen, a song from their first album, and it seemed that she wasn't the only one who was running out of voice, because she noticed James' voice faltering a bit.

The song was followed by Fade to Black, despite a boy in the audience shouting out Whiplash as a suggestion.

"Thank you! That was Fade to Black, from the album Ride the Lighting...! ...ARE WE GOING TO FUCK UP TODAY OR WHAT?" The crowd screamed in response, and he threw the pick at a person in the audience. "Good catch! ...WANT DESTRUCTION?" the audience shouted back in response. "By the way, this one goes... There's no other way, on the Kill 'em all album. We want to hear you scream! This song is called... SEEK & DESTROY!" The crowd screamed again for the third time, and more than the previous times. "I can't fucking hear you," said James pretending to be disappointed as the crowd sang the chorus. That was the song where the crowd was the loudest.

And last but not least, and finally for the fan in the audience who kept shouting it: Whiplash.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH!" said James as the song ended, "THANK YOU!

The crowd started screaming "Metallica!" non-stop, and seeing that they wanted more of them and that Y&T weren't ready to go on stage yet, they were allowed to play more songs. They chose to play half of Diamond Head's Am I Evil? and Motorbreath.

"Good day, whatever!" said James, waving goodbye to the audience. "Cheers! Thank you very much!"

As they left the stage, Eddie crouched down and she got off his shoulders.

"Well, we can go now," she said jokingly. "Thank you very much. I'll give you a massage later."

"Don't worry about it."

"That was amazing, my God!" she said as they walked out of the stadium after all the performances were over.

"I told you you had to come!" he said. "Thank goodness I convinced you into it."

"But can we talk about Metallica's performance? Oh my God, it's still not sinking in!"

"Cliff's bass solo in the intro of For whom the bell tolls made the hair on the back of my neck stand up," he confessed.

"Me too, man! And his smile throughout the whole song?! I love him, he's a genius and super adorable, I could tell he was living it up."

It took them a while to get out of the car parking and around the stadium as it was packed. Being from Hawkins, they had never seen so many cars together and so much traffic.

"Where do you want to go now?" he asked as he drove. It was still daylight, but it was late afternoon. "Are you hungry? Shall we go to dinner?"

"I'm not hungry yet, are you?"

"Neither am I."

"Not as hungry as the concert, but I can't wait to go to the beach and see the ocean. I'd like to see the sunset there."

"Then there we go."

They crossed back over the bay bridge and missed directions to the locals, peering out of the caravan windows. They were told that the best beach to enjoy the view, including the Golden Gate Bridge, was Baker Beach, so that's where they went.

They arrived at just the right time, at sunset. They took off their shoes and for the first time felt the sand under their feet and between their toes. The ocean breeze made their manes and their wide shirts move as the wind wanted them to, and for the first time they smelled the salty water. The eyes of _______ were fixed on the sun hiding behind the Pacific Ocean.

She decided to take her camera out of her bag and take a picture. Meanwhile, Eddie was looking at her. He thought she was prettier than the sunset. When she finished taking the picture, she put the camera back in her bag, put it on the ground and looked at the sunset again for a second, then looked at Eddie.

"This is the best day of my life," she said, teary-eyed but smiling.

"Hey hey hey," he said worriedly, "why are you crying?"

"I'm crying from happiness," she said as she smiled at her friend's concern and ran her fingers across her eyes to wipe away the tears, "it's a good thing."

Eddie put his arms around her and kissed her head repeatedly. She was too adorable, she could handle him. He loved her madly.

"It's the best day of my life, too," he said when they broke apart, and he placed one of his hands on her cheek, rubbing his thumb gently to wipe away the trace of the silent tear that had fallen down her face seconds before.

They both couldn't wait to tell the other that they loved each other, that they loved each other madly and not just as best friends, to kiss... But the fear of rejection and ruining the moment, the day, the trip and their friendship outweighed those desires.

"We haven't tasted water yet, how is that possible?" he said, grabbing her by the shoulders, trying to make her laugh and trying to distract himself from the impulse he had felt to confess and kiss her at that moment. "Come on!" he said, taking her by the hand and making her walk towards the shore, leaving her slippers, socks and bag behind.

"It's warm," she said, slightly surprised with her feet in the water.

"It must be because it's been in the sun all day. How about a swim? It's perfe-"

"Ugh, something touched my foot!" She said in disgust, lifting her foot and moving towards him.

"It's seaweed."

"I'm not taking a bath," she said, still disgusted.

"Because of the seaweed?" he asked, raising one of his eyebrows and smiling mockingly.

"It's too disgusting... For that I prefer swimming pools or bathtubs."

"It's just a plant, but a sea plant," he said, bending down and picking it up. He stretched out his arm to pull her closer but she pulled back as if he was holding a cockroach, and seeing how her body and face reacted, he couldn't help but laugh as he let go the plant. "Look, there's a very clean area over there," he said pointing with his head as he approached her, and while she was distracted for a second looking at the area he had pointed out to her, he bent down and grabbed her behind her knees and her waist, like a prince carrying his princess in a fairy tale that mothers told their daughters in bed before they went to sleep at night.

"What-" She didn't mind him grabbing her like that, in fact, she obviously liked it if it was him, but she stopped liking it when she saw Eddie start to go into the sea, into an area with too much seaweed for her liking. "Eddie, no! Don't even think about it!" and he laughed a wicked laugh, like when he saw his fellow Hellfire Club members in distress in a Dungeons and Dragons battle.

"Don't be a pussy!"

"Eddie I'm literally a pussy!" she said refering to her vagina.

"Not everything could be perfect this day, baby!"

"Eddie, if you drop me there, your uncle will never hear from you again! And I'm wearing clothes, not a bikini!"

"So what? The clothes are drying."

"Not in this air and it's getting dark, and I don't have a towel."

"Weeeell," he said, turning around while smiling and setting her down on the shore, on the sand.

They walked back to where they had left their things and she sat down on the sand. He decided to sit behind her, wrapping his legs and arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"You're stupid," she said, annoyed but smiling at the same time.

"And you love me for it," he said, poking her lightly in the side with the tip of his index finger.

"Yes..." He sighed deeply, "very much, as you have no idea, much to my disgrace," she thought.

It was getting colder and colder, so they decided to go somewhere for dinner and then to the hotel to rest, trying to catch up on sleep while they were snuggled up to each other, as they were used to.

The next morning Eddie woke up with a horrible neck ache from doing so many headbangs and some back pain from holding _______ during Metallica's performance, so before leaving the hotel she lay on top of him on the bed and gave him the best neck, shoulder and back massage she could. She was smart and knowing how much her neck would hurt the next day and how fragile it was, she decided not to do headbangs.

Then they headed for Los Angeles and by lunchtime they were there, on Venice Beach with a few litres of alcoholic beer they had bought, and now they had their swimming costumes and towels on (and sunscreen, of course).

"We had rock and roll..." he said, referring to the festival, "we've had 'drugs', if we can consider them drugs...", he said, throwing his hands up in the air, one with a bottle of beer and a freshly lit cigarette in the other. She had forbidden him to bring weed for fear of being caught in a checkpoint. "The sex is the only thing missing."

"I don't feel like fucking any guy here," she said, "they all look like Barbie's boyfriend."

"And they all look like Barbies here," he said half-heartedly, to her surprise.

"But Barbies are pretty."

"Have you seen the sculptures of the ancient Romans? They're made of rock, they're quality and there are few of them. On the other hand, there are a lot of plastic ones, of poor quality and copies of each other. I prefer a woman made of rock."

"How do you know that, Shakespeare?" She asked with a mocking smile. "I thought you were bad at history."

"Yes, but not at art."

"Anyway, even if we wanted to fuck with someone here, I don't think they'd want to fuck with us."

"Speak for me, but not for you. You're beautiful."

"I'm not that much."

"Said the one who always has several guys behind her."

"But they're not Kens because I'm not a Barbie, I'm not popular."

"You are popular among the "weirdos" at school, and you know it, don't tell me you're not."

"Well, I didn't say I was ugly, I admit it, but..."

"You're beautiful. End of discussion."

"Well, all right, if you say so..." She looked away, holding her smile and blushing a little, "Thanks, I guess. You too," she looked back at him.

"Oh, you think I'm a pretty girl, too!" He said in a squeaky voice and put his hand to his chest, pretending to be surprised. "Thank you very much! Aren't you roasting? Shall we go in the water? Or are you still terrified of seaweed?"

"Mm..." Yes, actually yes, she was too disgusted by that.

"At least come and soak your feet, right?" he asked as he stubbed out his cigarette in the sand and got up.

"Well, okay," she said, doing the same as she made a bun with one of the hair ties around her wrists.

"The tide brings the seaweed to the shore," he said, pointing to it as the two of them stood there soaking their feet, "but look, it's all clear up ahead. You only have to go the first few yards. I can carry you and get you there without you touching any seaweed."

"Uh..."

The beach was full of people and she was embarrassed to be seen being carried, as if she didn't have the legs to walk and go into the water on her own. It would be more embarrassing if they found out how disgusting the seaweed made her feel, but it was not her fault that she found it disgusting, especially as an inland girl who could only swim in clean pools. But then she thought that she shouldn't give a shit what strangers thought of her and that she didn't want to miss the experience of swimming in the Pacific Ocean with her best friend after an epic and unforgettable trip, so she accepted the proposal.

"Well, okay," he thought he was going to carry her like he had carried her at the festival the day before, but he carried her like he had carried her on the beach in San Francisco, like a princess. That was a little more embarrassing than being carried like a little girl on hia back. "How are you not disgusted by stepping on them?" she asked, disgusted, referring to the seaweed as he began to walk deeper into the ocean.

"They're just plants," he laughed, "you act like they're cockroaches."

"But their touch is disgusting."

"I don't think it's that bad."

"Well, lucky you."

"You know there are people who eat them?"

"Good for them," she said indifferently, and he laughed again at her answer. "Oh, it's freezing!" she said, referring to the water when he was already deeper in, the water coming up to his waist, and she was wetting her butt.

"It's not that bad! Besides, what did you expect? Don't be a pussy!"

And when he finally reached the area without seaweed, he suddenly let her go, making her scream at such an abrupt change of temperature. She, annoyed, splashed him with her arm. He laughed.

"It would have been worse little by little, if you do it all at once it's less bad," yes, he was one of those who jumped in the pool, "or did you want me to baptise you?" He closed his eyes, shut his mouth, covered his nose with his hand and bent down, putting his head completely in the water. When he pulled it out, he shook her hair like a shampoo advert and splashed her a little.

They stayed on the beach most of the day, until it got dark and they went to the hotel where they would be staying that night.

On Monday morning, 2 September, they would start the journey home, back to Hawkins. It was a bit depressing, as they didn't want the trip to end, they had had too much fun, and on top of that they didn't feel like going back to school, especially as they had to repeat their last year.

It was the second time that Eddie had repeated his last year and the whole group of friends from ______ had graduated and left town, but at least they would be in the same class together.

The last night they spent together they were sad for that very reason, because it was going to be the last night they would sleep together. And the last morning they spent together Eddie woke up before she did, so knowing how little his best friend wanted to go back and start her last term again, he decided to wake her up by tickling her, making her squirm in bed, crying with laughter and screaming for him to stop.

They returned to Hawkins on Saturday evening. Eddie helped get their luggage out of his van and into their house, and her mother offered to stay for dinner with them, so she could listen to the stories of the trip told by the two of them. Knowing that his uncle would not be home when he arrived because of his work schedule, and knowing that his best friend's mother's food was better than anything edible in his house, he gladly accepted the invitation.

"The beaches were amazing. The one I liked best was the one in San Francisco, because of the view of the Golden Gate," she told her mother when the three of them were at the dinner table.

"But she was afraid to go in the water because she was disgusted by the seaweed," said Eddie, "and the next day in Los Angeles I had to carry her like a Disney princess to get her into the water without being brushed by any of the seaweed."

"I wasn't afraid, you exaggerator!" she said in her defence, "just disgusted."

And then it was time to say goodbye. They both felt it would be a long time before they would see each other again, but in reality they would see each other in two days, on Monday morning at the school.

"I had a great time," she said in front of him, holding his hands, looking at him and smiling wistfully beside his van, parked in front of her house, "thank you for convincing me to come, thank you for everything."

"Thank you for coming," he said, looking at her and smiling in the same way, squeezing her hands and then letting go to give her a long, tight hug. "I'll see you Monday at school, okay?" he said as they parted.

"Unfortunately," she didn't even have a spark of desire to go back there, who would? Only popular people or people who find it easy to study or the poor bastards whose validation depends on having high numbers on papers after spewing out useless data for everyday life. "Goodbye," she said as she began to walk backwards, waving her hand as a final goodbye, and then she turned around. He stood there, watching her walk away from him and through the door of her house, making the last direct eye contact with her eyes quickly before she closed the door behind her.

As much as she was looking forward to seeing her mother and being in the comfort of her home, and especially in the comfort of her room and bed, she felt that she had missed something of utmost importance along the way, that she was missing something important: it was him, and the post-concert, post-trip depression. The same thing happened to him, and on top of that his uncle wasn't at home to greet him when he arrived from dropping off ______ at her house, but he knew that was a likely thing. He would see him on Sunday at noon, as he had a night shift, and in the morning he slept.

Their beds were supposed to be their greatest source of comfort, especially after almost two weeks of travelling around the country, from motel to hotel and back again. So why couldn't they sleep? They were not stupid, they were aware of their feelings, but they didn't think it would affect them so much. They missed each other, they wanted each other to be there beside them, lying down and cuddling. He tried to hug his pillow but it wasn't the same. She wanted to hug a crappy stuffed animal he gave her off the arcade hook a year ago but it was too small to be cuddled.

Eddie could have perfectly well drugged himself to calm down and fall asleep as soon as possible, but instead he decided to do something even more stupid: get out of bed, leave the house, get in the van and drive to his best friend's house. Hopefully she was still awake, hopefully they could sleep together that night, hopefully he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of her for having such a need like a little kid.

"Shit," he thought as he got out of the van, which he had parked in front of the house. He didn't see any light inside, everything indicated that mother and daughter had already gone to bed in their respective rooms.

But then he thought that just because she was in bed didn't mean she was already asleep. She decided to go to the side of the house and stand under her bedroom window. He bent down to the floor in search of pebbles to throw at the window to get her attention in a quiet way, without waking her mother or her neighbours.

He threw a pebble at her window, calculating his aim with his mind and throwing it hard enough so that it would reach the window but not break the glass even a little bit. It didn't rattle against the glass because there was no glass, the window was open because of the heat, but he thought that wasn't a problem, and maybe it was more effective for the pebble to go inside her room.

As it happened, the pebble ended up inside her room, bouncing on the floor, making noise, but he didn't know that for sure, he didn't know if that had woken her up if she was sleeping or if it had caught her attention enough to make her get out of bed and look out the window to see what was going on, so he decided to throw another pebble, and just as he was about to throw it, she looked out of the window.

"Eddie?" she asked in a whisper, surprised and confused. "What is it? What are you doing here?" He dropped the pebbles and took a few steps forward. It was the moment he was waiting for, what he had planned and wanted was happening, but he opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out of him. He didn't know what to say, because there was really a lot he wanted to express. "Do you want me to come down?" she asked, and he nodded his head quickly, but it was dark and she couldn't see it very well, so she decided to ask. "Yes?"

"Yes," he answered, "please."

"I'll be right there, wait a second," she said, who had to put on a pair of trousers because she was in her panties, go downstairs and get her keys.

"No hurry," he said as he moved away from the window. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The longer it took her to come down, the more time he would have to calm down. He was restless, more than usual. He never used to get this nervous before playing in front of people from the school.

He heard the door of the house open and close and she approached him with the keys in the pocket of the shorts she had just put on. Crickets could also be heard not far away, and the leaves of the trees rustling in the thin breeze.

"What's the matter?" She said, approaching him with concern. "Has something happened?"

"No, no, it's all right," she saw how nervous and uneasy he was and knew he was lying, but she took his hands to calm him in every way. He gladly agreed, and he did calm down somewhat.

"So?" she asked, even more puzzled.

"Well... You see... I know it's stupid, but... Well, you know me, don't you? I'm like that, I can't help it..." There was a brief silence in which he didn't know what to say, or rather how to say it, trying to find the words in his mind while she looked at him and waited for whatever he was going to say. She didn't really know what to expect from him, and the situation was strange. "I couldn't sleep and I think it's because I'm missing you by my side," he laughed nervously again. She smiled and tightened her grip.

"The same thing was happening to me."

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

"Really."

"So...? Are we sleeping together tonight?"

"Please and thank you. At your place?"

"Okay."

"I'll come in for a moment to write a note to my mother for when she wakes up tomorrow and doesn't see me at home," he said, holding up her hand, pointing to her house with her thumb behind it, "okay?"

"Sure."

After what she said and did, they rode in his van to Eddie's house in absolute silence, no music, no talking. They didn't need to, and they didn't have anything to talk about since they hadn't seen each other for only two hours. The silence was not uncomfortable, they wore smiles on their lips and their hair swayed in the breeze coming through the lowered windows.

"If your uncle sees me and finds out that we slept in the same bed, he'll think badly," she said as she climbed into his bed and snuggled against him.

"Let him think what he wants, I don't care," he said as she settled her head on his arm, "he'd be happy and everything. Your mother is not the only one who matches us," which was true. Some people in town, especially in high school, just assumed the two of them were a couple.

"Yeah."

He started stroking her head, or rather her hair, with the hand on the arm she was using as a pillow. The other was on her back. They were pressed against each other. He had his neck in front of her face, and his tattooed chest exposed. They both felt at last at peace, completely calm and ready to sleep if they wanted to, but they didn't want to, they wanted to enjoy this moment of being conscious.

"You could have fallen asleep smoking weed but you didn't, why?"

"You're my favourite drug," he dared to say. The night made everyone feel vulnerable and sensitive, and he was no exception. Maybe he shouldn't listen to the things that went through his mind at night, but there were times when he couldn't help it, and that was one of those times.

That phrase and him going to her home to tell hee that he needed to sleep with her definitely had to mean something, something good and important, but she couldn't assume that either if it didn't come out of his mouth in a more explicit way. She didn't want to get her hopes up, make an Oscar-worthy movie in her head, and then get the shock and the downer.

Luckily for her, Eddie spoke without her asking any questions.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you..."

"What's that?"

"The problem is... I'm afraid to tell you."

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, Eddie. I love you madly and I'm going to be there for you no matter what."

"I don't know how to express it either..."

"So, if you can't put it into words.... Express it with an action," she said, believing where he was going.

Emboldened by his best friend's words and the late hours of the night, he decided to move the hand on her back to her cheek. With his thumb he brushed her lips to find out exactly where they were, for they were in their room in complete darkness, unable to see each other even if they were inches away from each other. Then he raised her head slightly and bowed his head, and at last did what he had wanted to do for more than half a year: he kissed her, confessing at last his deep feelings for her. She quickly returned the kiss, while a big smile formed on her lips.

"So... Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes, for a long time," he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

"How long?"

"More than half a year ago."

"Well, it seems we're in sync even for that."

"Do you feel the same way I do?" He asked, surprised and confused but happy at the same time.

"How do you feel about me Eddie? Please tell me, I want to hear it come out of your mouth," she said, now she was caressing his cheek.

"I love you. You are my Arwen to my Aragorn. When I hear love songs I can't help but think of you. You make me so happy just to be by my side. You are beautiful in every way and I have so much fun with you. You are not only my best friend and the person I love the most after my uncle, you are the woman of my dreams and I think you are my soul mate" with every sentence he said she got more emotional and it was hard for her to hold back the urge to cry with happiness, while he was still not processing that he had just kissed her, that his kiss had been reciprocated and that he was finally telling her out loud what he'd been keeping quiet and so deep inside for so long, "and I can't wait to fucking graduate so I can start working a full time job and save up to get married and live on our own and together in our own house, our own home. ...Although any place is a home if you're there," he suddenly heard a sob and felt a drop fall on his arm, the one that was being her pillow. "_______?" he asked frightened with fear that he had completely screwed up.

"I love you so much," she said crying out of pure happiness, her heart couldn't fit in her chest from all the happiness she was feeling, "you have no idea how happy you make me right now."

"So you're crying from happiness again?"

"I couldn't cry for anything else," and now it was she who jumped up and kissed him. Then he hugged her tightly.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"You didn't even have to ask."

"I wanted to ask you, I've wanted that for a long time and to hear a yes for an answer from you," she smiled even more, almost laughing at what he had just said.

"Yes, silly, I do."

"Now I'm completely yours, more yours than ever, more than I've ever been."

"I'll say the same."

They kissed again, and then he moved his free hand to her pillowy arm, and took off one of the three rings he wore. He took off the skull-shaped one and handed it to her, leaving it on her hand. She could tell which ring it was by touch.

"I want you to have it from now on, as a token of my love and our relationship."

"Thank you," she said, putting it on her thumb, as it was too big on the rest of her fingers.

Little else happened after that, just a few more kisses, caresses and the occasional playful touch but nothing more. They were exhausted from the journey and finally felt at peace, ready to sleep now that they were together physically and romantically.

[drdemonprince]

so first off, sorry bc this is super fucking heavy.

re: commonalities between cis and trans men, and that other ask. something I've had to come to terms with is how even as a teenager before I had the concept of transitioning in my head - I still got all of the societal messaging wrt misogyny, etc. I totally benefited from it, even as a woman. I put other girls down. I was the cool chick. I cashed in where I could with it. i was absolutely a chauvinist when I transitioned. I felt inhuman as a woman, but I understood that ultimately that's the way women were *supposed* to be, as much as I wished otherwise. it took a long time to unlearn that.

my personal experience makes me very uncomfortable when I see other trans men talking about gendered socialization, or how overly negative people are towards men as a class. I wonder if they have ever sat down and really reconciled with the way they have, and do, benefit from their gendered position, or if they've convinced themselves they can't be a "bad person" by virtue of their birth sex.

I can't find a nuanced way to talk about this that won't be read in bad faith as essentialist rhetoric. rape culture is the system by which consent violation is normalized, its all the music and books and movies and bad relationships I assumed were normal and romantic as a young adult. I really, really hurt people, and I did it as men are encouraged to do, and as they are rewarded for doing. I found affirmation in hurting people, and it is so fucking easy to do this without even really thinking of it because it's the entire culture you've come up in.

I'm not even talking like, obvious cases here like phyrical domestic abuse & intentional date rape. there are so many subtle boundary erosions, there's weird gray areas around drugs & alcohol, there's attitudes and expectations in established relationships, there's the potential to exploit community for personal gain. there are partners who will fear you, and freeze and fawn and will not tell you "no."

a lot of the "we need a special word for masculine transphobia" types seem to also disavow the possibility that they hold male privelege. but we need to look at that shit, sexual or otherwise. it's scary to see guys who see women talking about it and they knee-jerk shout back "I'm not a rapist" and "not all men." guarantee some of them are, and just aren't aware of it. i was.

Thank you so much anon for this really brave, candid message. I think it's something that a lot of the trans guys crowing in my inbox about how cis men "are the bad gender" need to hear. (yes, someone literally said that to me). Portraying gendered categories, especially ones based on birth assignment!, as ontologically more evil or pure than others sets people up for abuse. Separating cis men out from trans men erases the ways in which trans guys can both leverage power and the ways in which toxic masculine norms are transmitted culturally to everyone regardless of assigned sex at birth. Lots of trans guys are palpably uncomfortable with their power, and can only see that relative to cis men, they experience transphobia and misogyny in greater amounts, and so they presume they must be in a highly victimized category. But they dont ever consider that as men they can and do often wield power over women -- especially trans women -- and they've got to fucking learn how to handle that reality responsibly, which many cis men actually do know how to fucking do. Especially multiply marginalized cis men who have been preyed upon and exploited themselves.

I think it's really powerful to hear you taking ownership of the actions you've taken that have hurt others, and the allure such actions had. Very few people have the courage to look their lower moments in the face and affirm that it's actually a part of them. If we're ever going to stop abusing and talking over women we've got to own up to our shit. I've seen what can happen when men come together to be vulnerable about their struggles, own their wrongdoing, and seek to change -- back when I was working in a men's drug treatment program. We can overcome this shit and take responsibility. But a lot of the birthday boy trans guy squad is incensed by even the idea of owing anything to anyone. Like a lot of MRAs.

[iscopeee]

my null playlist is finished yayayayay

(warning for loud and glitchy sounds through most of these songs. it's NULL what did you except lol)

yapping about my song choices/reasonings for way too long under the cut

ok as a preamble a lot of my song choices here are for the interpretation that NULL is a real person trapped inside the game, which for some reason seems to be a controversial take for some people from what I've seen, so I feel the need to explain why I think that (also i'm just using this as an excuse to infodump lol). skip this next paragraph for the song reasonings if you dgaf

so basically i've seen a lot of people being like "UM well NULL licherally says he ISN'T a person trapped in a game, so of course he isn't, duhhhh 🤓" which. I don't wanna be too harsh considering how much of this game's fanbase is literal children but characters are in fact capable of being untruthful. the way I see it the fact that NULL randomly says apropo of nothing "oh nooo I'm TOTALLY not a real person trapped in a game haha, that'd be RIDICULOUS lol" (suspiciouslyspecificdenial tvtropes dot com) immediately followed by explaining that he "can't talk normally" and has to be "vague intentionally" because "some stuff is classified" combined with other hints he gives of his speech being censored by the game in later dialogue makes it clear that he obviously can't directly say what he is. the fact that he's using reverse psychology to get around the game's censorship seems pretty clear to me. (there's also the specific word choice of him calling the idea of being trapped inside a game "ridiculous" when he also describes himself as "ridiculous" earlier in his monologue but that's a bit of a stretch lol). The lake image clearly showing NULL standing by a lake in the real world is another obvious hint to NULL originally being a real person as well. his pain is neverending LOLLLLLLL (this isn't shitting on ppl who have different interpretations of NULL obviously!!! in his own words he's "vague intentionally". this is just my thoughtz :3)

ANYWAY onto da music YAY

UZUMAKI - Machine Girl -

very erratic/glitchy sound obviously. also themes of cycles, feeling trapped in negative spirals, hopelessness.

hand crushed by a mallet (N0THANKY0U remix) - 100 gecs -

any version of this song probably would have worked but I chose the N0THANKY0U remix for the compressed sound which seemed the most fitting. the themes of grief could tie into NULL's longing for his old life but I mainly chose it for these lyrics which are very NULLcore methinks

"I don't want you to think I got bad intentions/Never wanted you inside, you made it your mission, yeah/Didn't wanna hurt no one/But you just went and made it fun"

"I'll never go, I'll haunt your studio/You won't think of words when you write at all/You'll just hear me singing this song/You'll think that's okay, you'll just sing along"

i love this song ^_^

Final Transmission (The Living Tombstone remix) - Temporal Walker & [voodoopony] -

more glitchy electronic sound, as well as the lyrics being about a man getting in over his head and stranded away from his old life. regret as he realizes he's beyond the point of no return. maybe being trapped inside videos game is just like suffocating to death in space.

maybe he knew something that we didn't/staring at the mirror with a different kind of vision

Couture - Epsyle -

he's stuck on this fucking planet. he's stuck on this god damn earth. not much else to say for this one

The Mind Electric - Miracle Musical -

maybe a cliche choice for a character playlist but idc :P picked the distorted version for obvious reasons.

this pick is mainly about the power the game (?) holds over NULL (the whole censorship thing i mentioned in the preamble and the mentions of things being "classified" and "not being allowed" to do certain things in his dialogue) and the impact this must have on his mental state.

Child Protective Services Theme Song and Action Winter Journey - Nero's Day at Disneyland -

lumping these two together because both lack lyrics for me to go over. both have a very erratic, almost desperate feel to me. as the glitching which goes without saying at this point

BTSTU - Jai Paul -

WATER IMAGERY 🎉 also feelings of angry determination and of feeling lost

Cabinet Man - Lemon Demon -

i fully admit this one is a stretch buuut it's Guy Trapped In Video Game. I kinda had to lol

computer vision - sunsetcorp -

a gentle nostalgic sound is quickly cut short by dizzying electronic noise. the imagery is obvious i think

TIME STAND STILL - sunsetcorp -

feeling trapped in time. forced to stay in one place and reflect on the past endlessly by being trapped in an outdated game (I'm looking back) and being unable to progress forward and make meaningful change by destroying it and escaping (but I want to look around)

angel - sunsetcorp -

the death imagery appearing at the end of the playlist. The end of NULL style is approaching. more feelings of being trapped in the past.

END OF LIFE ENTERTAINMENT SCENARIO #1 - sunsetcorp-

the death imagery is even more blatant now. the past is looping in on itself. Escape is impossible now.

NULL tries in vain to calm himself to stop the worst from happening. One, two, three, four...

cemetary 4 - osno1 -

It's too late.

[multifandomwhore-003]

Random Hazel Callahan headcanons that have been rotting my brain for the past couple of days:

Pairing: Hazel Callahan x female! reader

Summary: Not needed

Genre(s): a little angsty at first, after that's it's just pure fluff

Warnings: mentions of trauma and maladaptive daydreaming

A/N: I'M GONNA WRITE MORE FOR HER BECAUSE I NEED IT SO STAY TUNED, also I listened to False God by Taylor Swift the entire time I wrote this.

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk , join tag list here

• She has horrible listening skills, usually her house has been a pretty noisy and chaotic place, even before her parents divorced, so she's learned to mute the outside world.

• It tends to annoy pretty much everyone else outside the fight club, the only exception being PJ, she perhaps got annoyed more than anyone.

• When you first noticed you had to repeat yourself at least five times whenever she was around, you tried to come up with different ways for her to keep up, like texting her as you spoke so she could read it as much as she needed to.

• Later on you found out it wasn't just about losing track of a conversation, as you asked to borrow one of her headphones one time, you were shocked her ears weren't bleeding right then and there.

"Fucking hell, Hazel! Are you trying to break your ears or something?" your ears hurt for a second.

"It's not loud at all" She placed them on her neck.

"Baby, I can hear the music coming out of those things like a concert speaker,"

• You decided to invite her over to your house as often as possible, demanding a no-headphones rule.

"Why not?!" she complained.

"Because you're gonna be completely deaf at the age of 40!"

"And you'll be there to teach me sign language, right?" she hugged your waist.

"You're saying you prefer not hearing my voice for the rest of our lives?" you lifted a brow.

• The realazation dawned on her.

• To this day she hasn't worn headphones a single day in her life.

• Maladaptive daydreaming is also something she struggles with, not as much now as she used to in middle school and the first two years of high school, but it still happens sometimes.

• You found out when you decided to surprise her by coming to her house one day

• Mrs. Callahan said she couldn't get in contact with Hazel, for whatever reason.

• Most likely her phone turned off since it was out of battery.

• So she texted you she was gonna be missing all night, permitted you to stay the night, and told you to take care of Hazel.

• You found her in the kitchen yelling, it sounded as if she was yelling at someone.

"Are you ever gonna choose me over a booty call?! How is it that Jeff's dick is more important than me?! Your daughter! You fucking pushed me out and you still can't even ask me how my grades are doing and shit!"

• Your first thought was —Her mom's plans must've been canceled—

• As you approached the room as quietly as possible, you looked through the rim of the entrance, there was no one.

"Hazel," you spoke quietly through her screams.

A shiver went down her spine, he face turned white, she blinked a couple of times before turnind her head, "How much of that did you hear?" she avoided your eyes.

"I've never heard you like that," was all you could mutter as you approached her slowly and then embraced her in a hug, "I know you're not insane by the way," you whispered in her hair.

She began to cry.

• She didn't want to talk about it for the next few days

• When she did, she stumbled upon her words, talked too fast, and teared up every once in a sentence.

"Call me first," you cupped her face, "I'll never judge you for whatever you have to say,"

• She wanted to kiss you right then and there, but just rested her forehead on yours, an act of ultimate intimacy.

• I could get into the divorced parents' trauma for hours because same

• But for now I'll move on to the happy part

• Physical touch is the absolute most pure form of love she can give

• If she's not hugging your waist at all times, she's holding your hand, resting her head on your chest, shoulders, legs, etc. pretty much everywhere she can

• If you have long or medium hair she'll attempt to braid your hair, keyword attempt

• If you have short hair she'll buy little elastic ponytails to tie them around your head everywhere she can

• Her reasoning behind this is that her favorite plants are cactuses

• That's it, that's all the reasons she needs

• If you happen to be bald she'll rub your head while singing the chorus to Diamonds by Rihanna

• She plays ukelele

• She knows how to make a few origami figures and if she tries a new one, as crumbled and sweaty as it is she gives it to you

• You have a whole shelf in your room dedicated to every piece of folded paper she's ever done for you

• If you're more of a fem! girl, she'll try something of yours whenever she comes over and stare at her reflection for hours

"Good thing, god didn't make me straight, she knew I would be a menace,"

• You can only roll your eyes and laugh at her twirling and pretending to dance ballet in your dresses and skirts

• If she happens to go shopping without you, she'll try something you'll like and send you the photo after

"If it looks this good on me, imagine how AMAZING it'll look on you,"

• She once asked you to put makeup on her, she'll say she was just curious how she'd look

• She wasn't lying, but she also didn't mention she just wanted to recreate this picture:

• If you happen to be more of a masc! girl, you'll trade clothes as often as you can think

• More than once you have arrived at school with something she likes and just drags you to the bathroom to for you to make the exchange

• It's not her clothes and your clothes anymore, everything you own is hers and vice versa

• More often than not you're no longer sure what used to be only yours

• This goes for accessories and shoes as well, even if they don't fit her, she'll fill them up with toilet paper until they fit just fine

• You'll match AT LEAST once a week, as per her request of course

• She tries all kinds of chips (or crisps for my British luvs) she has tried every flavor and seasoning, but her favorites and the flaming hot ones, even if she ends up chugging your waterbottle after finishing the bag

• Although her parents are rich and taught her from a young age to be a precise wine taster, she's a tequila and vodka girl

• She hates gloomy and rainy days because they bring down her mood, but spending the day binge-watching cheesy movies and stuffing her stomach with all the snacks o her house makes it up

• She's ABSOLUTE SHIT at Karaoke, but my god does she have the spirit

• Her go-to song is Lies by Fleetwood Mac, but if she's drunk enough to gain confidence she'll request Easy On Me by Adele

•  If she insists for long enough and you decide to sing with her, she 100% will try to recreate the following musical numbers:

• Lay all you love on me -Mamma Mia

• Every duet there is in Teen Beach Movie, her favorite childhood movie

• The cellblock tango -Chicago and Ex-Wives -from Six, if the rest of the fight club joins as well

• Popular from Wicked, strangely enough, she's Glinda

• Seventeen -Heathers

• Candy Store -Heathers featuring Isabel as Heather Mc Namara, Josie as Martha Dunnstock, and PJ as Veronica (She was heavily forced to after Brittany suggested it)

• Smooth Criminal -The Glee cast cover

• If you're a good singer, or at least a decent one, at the end of the song she'll hype you up more than anyone in the crowd, even carry you (this also applies to my plus size! lovelies, DON'T YOU WORRY, she has muscles)

• If you're a bad singer, then you'll be shit together, the worse your voices sound, the better you'll enjoy it

• Onto the kissing and overall more stereotypical relationship stuff, aka the not-so-comfortable part of my asexual-spectrum girlies.

• As previously shown in the original material

• Kissing is slow and passionate, she likes to enjoy your lips as much as possible, taking in every movement, taste, and breath

• Hands on your jaw  and neck EVERY FUCKING TIME

• The first few times you offered her some chapstick or lipstick, or lipgloss, or lip oil, or anything, she would kiss you making you chuckle in surprise

• Now you don't even need to ask, she'll just be like

"Hey, your lips look beautiful," and peck you on the lips

• If you're alone it definitely turns into a whole makeout session

• She just claims it tastes too good not to do it

• Every once in a while she'll hug you from behind and aggressively kiss your cheek

• Good luck kisses before every test

• Her favorite kind of dates are picnic dates

• She takes pictures of the sky whenever she feels it matches your vibe

• She takes A LOT of pictures of you ANYTIME, ANYWHERE, she even went as far as to buy a film camera because they make everything more magical

• She reads A LOT

• She obviously knows too much about social injustices and everything regarding that realm, but she likes other things as well

• Avid fantasy reader, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES,

• Going back to this need for escapism, she was heavily raised by George R.R. Martin and Leigh Bardugo

• Definitely screamed, jumped, and overall looked like she was in a sugar rush when both Game of Thrones and Shadow and Bone came out

• She wasn't exactly allowed to watch Game of Thrones at the time it came out, so she watched when she was 16 instead

• Shadow and Bone, however, oh boy, it was whole event

• She cosplayed Sturmhond and made you cosplay as Zoya

.

.

.

That's it for now children, if I come up with anything else I'll do a part two or even better write something more complete

[rebeltigera]

Haiii!! I got question:

Do you have any head-canons for mk? Mac? Wuk?

And what is your personal opinion on season 5?

I am responding second time because the first one didn't send :'D

Pls end me.

I don't remember the headcanons I've mustered out the first time damnit -

*sigh*

Those are general ones , I use the design of the character most of the time to show headcanons

For MK

-He's wasted after one beer.

-his tail subconsciously curl against legs of his friends or person he trust

-he chirp subconsciously

-he don't like bitter things like dark chocolate

For Wukong

- he got thick , strong curly fur . When fluffed up texture it reminds of the dust brush

- his body temperature is much higher due to the furnace punishment

-gets headaches due to the circlet (phantom pain)

-he speak and read fluently ancient Chinese , however he got problems with modern language

-he usually sleeps with lil monkeys around

-he can't get drunk.

-monkeys take care of his fur

For Mac

- his ears are too delicate for piercings. They would hurt.

- thin , straight/wavy fur like smoke . He can't stand cold

- he can always hear past and present but future is randomly whispering to him

- he got lower body temperature (due to the shadow nature)

- when drunk he looks like a beast but he's a snuggly wuggly teddy bear

-he takes care of his fur regularly himself

For Mei (because it's lacking in other categories and I don't remember more :'D)

- When she fights she tunes into imaginary music in the background. Like Gwen from spiderverse 2

About S5

*sigh* Vent warning. not directed at anyone in particular

I am unable to put up presentable opinion on this season

Also warning to everyone that will read it

If you are here to defend/ you are touchy on subject of S5 please avert your eyes.

The season was mid at best. , script was rushed, the core of it was S3 with meek antagonist, the most evil character there was a bug demon with many eyes, and SACRIFICE was basically word for this season.

Other things I remember from it is a burnt dumpling and Nezha's mech. Oh and Wukong being useless, Mac carrying season on his back , MK being even more stupid than usual. A random guy with a pagoda and a Twink snake. Nothing else .

Let's put my opinion about the animation now :D

Flying Bark got sacrificed just like MK in this season lol

The animation was a pure nightmare, it's like Seven deadly sins Incident

And if you guys think it will get much better from that in one year (let's say for example they will produce another season next year) you live high on copium and delulu.

Our juicy yummy frame by frame animation was taken away and they gave us RAGDOLL animation.

What does it mean? -AND HERE TUMBLR DECIDED TO CRASH ON ME AND IM WRITING IT 3rd TIME :D- you know how hieroglyphs are animated? Ye, that's basically it with extra steps! HOW FUN. NOW WE HAVE PUPPETS 2D. A FREAKING GACHA FROM YT IF YOU MUST. THOSE IN SOME CASES ARE EVEN BETTER ANIMATED THAN OUR SHOW ITSELF BTW. This has it's perks! I guess. It's cheaper and easier to make episodes! :D the cons are we will no longer see good battles in the show. yay "But we saw Wukong vs MK! And snippet of Wukong vs Mac fight!" please, spare me. If you are telling me those were good fights , that is half assed animation they have no idea how works and two dots clashing with eachother you should go rewatch other seasons. the fucking disgrace and audacity.

But no matter. That i can live off, that i can gulp down.

YOU KNOW WHAT I CAN'T? THE SHEER AMOUNT OF MISTAKES ON BASIC LVL IN ART. I am sitting here looking at those colors, those lines this fucking scenography and ask- what a fucking newbie did this .

YOU CAN'T EVEN GET COLOR RIGHT

AND BEFORE ANY OF U F NERDS WILL COME TO ME AND SAY "UUU ACTUALLY ITS LIGHTING FAULT-" NO ITS FUCKING NOT.

THEY CAN'T EVEN USE SAME COLORS AS IN THE PRIOR SHOT , THEY CANT EVEN SAMPLE IT PROPERLY . BETWEEN THOSE SHOTS NOTHING CHANGE THEREFORE THE LIGHTING IS THE FUCKING SAME

IF YOU DON'T DRAW , AND HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT , JUST -

we have a shiny wukong here

What is this scene , please someone can explain to me the scenography of this

Why this perspective is wrong, the shading, the lack of lighting

Here characters don't even stand properly

WHAT IS WITH THIS AWKWARD SCENOGRAPHY ?

WHY THEY ALL LOOK OUT OF PLACE. AND IM NOT EVEN TALKING ABOUT THIS SHADING BECAUSE ITS SHIT.

HAVE THEY MISSED LIKE ALL BASIC LESSONS IN ART SCHOOLS? OR SOMETHING? LIKE THIS IS A JOKE. NO WONDER PEOPLE THOUGHT TRAILER WAS FAN MADE.

Now this- this is just hillarious.

Just add to it some dramatic intense sound effect and we have another nightmare.

The voice acting was great tho

[lowkeyrobin]

headcannons where quackity's s/o has tattoos? could also be nsfw, if you're comfortable with it :))

I don't write NSFW but I can definitely do the tattoo part! thanks for requesting!! I don't think I've actually posted a quackity focused thing yet which is surprising to me bc I have like 3 drafts for him LMAO

QUACKITY ; tattooed lover

summary ; you have tattoos and your boyfriend is head over heels

warnings ; language; talk of needles / pain of tattoos, use of quackitys real name (lmk if I should change it!)

word count ; 670

genre ; fluff

masterlist

In general, he'll act normal about all your tattoos and whatnot, but inside every time he sees your arms (especially if you have sleeves or some sick ones around your wrists that trail up your arm even a bit) he'll just get a little red in the cheeks. He absolutely loves all your ink. He thinks it's so sick, but he's not committed enough to get any, and he doesn't think he has the pain tolerance.

he went with you to get a new tattoo on your shoulder/upper arm area

he learned you'd be there for like 5 hours and he groaned like a shitty iPad kid and took his phone out while he threatened to call Philza

once he saw the tattoo gun... oh lord it was over

literally whisper shouted at you while the artist got up to get gloves

"that's what you're getting jabbed with??? why are we here again???"

genuinely can't look

once he hears the buzzing he turns his music on and he's staring down while he sits on the couch across from you

"Alex, look!" you smile, "I'm fine"

"how do I know you're not a clone?"

"Holy shit. dude it's the quackityhq duck, that's why I brought you along"

"WAIT WHAT?"

it's not a big tattoo whatsoever, but it's a reminder that he's always with you, how you've grown together and how that's always going to be an era of your content you'd never forget about

literally gets emotional about it

"You didn't have-"

"I wanted to, for the millionth time"

he genuinely didn't know tattoos were so expensive, once you leave he questions why it was 450 dollars and you explain to him how tattoo artist income works

He's not the one to want to peel off the second skin or pop the ink bubbles or even touch the tattoo until the skin goes back to normal. He's just kinda freaked out for some reason, it's just one of those things and it honestly makes sense.

He takes some dedicated time to sniff all the lotions and numbing creams and comment on each and every one, though. All while you're trying to do some aftercare on it and shit, and you just watch.

"this one smells like buttercream icing"

"yeah?"

"ew, this one smells like badboyhalo's ass!"

"why would you even know that? 😁"

If you have any tats without color, Alex will gladly color them in with washable markers like you're a walking coloring book. He'll literally call for you and ask you if he can color on you again, it's cute, really.

"y/n/n, can I color your tattoos again?"

"aren't you streaming?"

"so?"

"yeah, fine"

he has a whole gallon sized ziploc bag filled with Crayola washable markers

like he goes from playing on the qsmp and hanging out with some people to coloring all over you while said people watch 😭

you wave to his friends like "Hello, I am his walking therapy coloring book"

he's like a little kid. You just look over at him like, "Holy shit I could love you forever wtf"

Sometimes, he'll just draw you new tattoos (with washable markers dw) cause he gets bored and wants to doodle on you. Most of the time it ends up being stick figures and dicks but it's okay, it's his way of showing affection.

He'll genuinely think of song that remind him of each of your tattoos. Somehow, some way, he does. He has a whole playlist titled 'Y/n's tattoos', and he rarely listens to it, but he thinks it's fun to think of a new song when you get another tattoo.

Although he is a little concerned because what's gonna happen when you're old and wrinkly? How do the tattoos last? Do they become old and wrinkly like the tattooed grandmas meme? Because if so, he'll rip on you til the end of time.

"well I have a long time before I look like a tattooed elderly person, but okay"

"So you will? Oh my fucking God! BAHAHAHA"

[de4dlyniightshade]

Headcanons request:

Spencer’s dream partner. What do you think is important to him? Do you think he has a “type”?

And since you mentioned him and I JUST got the movie to watch - any fun headcanons for Chip??

half of this is me lowkey projecting but sue me. i'm delusional.

has to be patient for sure because he's really inexperienced in all aspects of a relationship and is terrified of rejection so he takes a while to open up about things and be comfortable with certain things.

words of affirmation! he loves being told that he did good at something or that he looks nice and loves doing the same for you because he loves to see your happy expression.

curvy woman lover!!! every time he hears derek talking about curvy women he's always talking about their ass and boobs but spencer is just like <soft3 and <squishy3 he loves to lay his head on a soft pair of thighs.

i don't think he'd have much a preference for like hair colour or length but i think shorter hair is a plus for him so when you're cuddling it's not in his face too much.

loves someone who dresses alternative and doesn't care what others think or how they feel about it.

really shy about pda but also loves it because it shows him you're not embarrassed of him and that you actually like showing him off so he'd probably like someone who's completely comfortable with pda.

has to like cats. i've seen some people saying spencer would never be a cat person bcs he needs them to cuddle him when he wants but you're telling me he wouldn't raise the sweetest little girl cat ever? she'd be already waiting at the door for him beside you wdym???

has to enjoy old movies and music because it's what he likes and listens to and he loves sharing his interests with others.

as for fun chip hcs!!!

very forgetful like it's obvious in the movie he's pretty scatterbrained but oh my god he's the definition of the expression he'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his neck.

very oblivious to danger and way too trusting and gets himself into some tight situations way too often.

wholeheartedly believes platypuses aren't real.

such a sweetheart like genuinely the most loving and kind man ever but he's just a little slow at times but with the right person it's very endearing rather than annoying.

refuses to eat things he's never tried but claims he doesn't like(me fr)

has such a sweet tooth like it doesn't matter what just anything sweet, especially cake.

can't cook. anything. and is scared of the microwave. claims he doesn't trust it.

loves driving with you and listening to music but it almost always ends up with you in a secluded area and getting it on in the backseats.

[riality-check]

part 3 of... whatever this au is. here's part 1 and part 2 if you missed them. tw substance abuse. part 4 here. part 5 here. part 6 here. part 7 here.

ao3

"You ever taken a hit?"

"Excuse me?"

First, Harrington calls his songs "boring" and "repetitive." "Talking about all the same thing." And, yeah, maybe he does have a point. Maybe Eddie can't write about much else, but that's a casualty of not being able to think about much else.

Everyone says addiction is selfish, and they're right. No one talks about how recovery is, too.

So, sorry that he's consumed by notoriously all-consuming things.

But then, Harrington shows up late to the studio. Granted, Eddie was, too, but Harrington stumbled into the little room fifteen minutes after the time Chrissy set up for them, ever-present coffee in hand.

And now he asks that.

"Like a punch," he explains. "Have you ever been hit?"

Eddie lets out a breath. "Yeah, I've been hit."

He thinks back to being a freshman in high school, what feels like forever ago, and getting shoved and tripped and swirlied by senior jock assholes.

There were never any closed-fist punches, but Eddie thinks he gets the idea.

"So you know that it feels good."

Eddie stares at him. "Good is not the word-"

"There's a moment," Harrington interrupts, and Eddie wants to kill him, "between the impact and the pain. You feel everything: how their hand feels, whether they're wearing rings, if they're holding something. And that might not feel good, but right after they hit you, everything is warm. And it feels really good, right until the pain sets in."

Eddie doesn't know what to say, not really, so he mouths off. "Got a lot of experience?"

"Four diagnosed concussions," Harrington replies.

Well. Eddie wasn't expecting that.

Just like he wasn't expecting Harrington's music to actually be good. He stayed up with the band last night, listening. And, yeah, he didn't like the goddamn synth chords, but reading along with the lyrics...

It was impressive. Eddie was impressed, okay?

Harrington's lyrics are far-ranging and emotionally impactful. He writes about family and love and survival in these really compelling, sometimes upbeat, sometimes not, ways. He writes about getting better and getting back up and fighting and Eddie gets it. He gets why Chrissy got his help.

Because not only is Harrington a rising star with a voice that Eddie thinks could be a little grittier if he put in the effort, but he also knows how to write about a lot of stuff.

And Eddie, since - since all of it, has clearly forgotten how to do so.

So, maybe, just maybe, he should start throwing his expectations about Harrington out the window.

"You know what it feels like," Harrington says. "So write about it."

Eddie sighs and lets his head flop onto the back of the couch. He hears Steve shift in his chair, hears him yawn.

In the silence, he wonders if he's sipping his coffee or covering his mouth like he did last week.

Eddie thinks that if he finds out the answer, he'll need a cigarette to kill the itch that'll inevitably spring up.

"Or not," Harrington mumbles.

Eddie drops his head forward. "Give a guy a second, will you? I don't know how-"

"Well, I'm here to help, not spoon-feed you lyrics."

"I didn't ask-"

"Oh, believe me, I know."

"Then why the hell-"

"Write about losing," Harrington snaps.

Eddie tilts his head to the side. "What?"

"You write about-"

"I know what I write about."

"Then you should know," Harrington says, raising his voice, "that there was a point where you wanted to give in."

Eddie shuts his mouth, and, despite his better instincts, leans forward, toward Harrington, far enough that his knees hit the coffee table between the couch and the chair.

"Because when you're fighting monsters, a little part of you thinks, it would be so much easier if I just lost. If I threw up my hands and let them get me."

Eddie thinks back to waking up after blackouts. To being carried places and dunked under cold water to sober the fuck up before we go out there. To figuring out ways to stay higher longer, refusing to be beholden to the inevitable crash.

And he hates that Steve Harrington has somehow found that out about him, however vaguely.

"Lot of experience with monsters?" Eddie says because damn if Harrington gets to cut him without getting cut back.

Harrington leans forward in turn. "You have no idea."

He picks up the black ballpoint pen on the coffee table and shoves it toward Eddie, toward his blank notepad.

Eddie bites his tongue, takes it, and writes lyrics and a lead guitar part in the fastest time he's ever managed, with Harrington as a sounding board, offering his suggestions.

They're good suggestions.

It's going to be a good song.

It's too bad that Eddie can't stand Harrington's smug smirks and his terrifying assumptions and his little bit of spaciness. It's too bad that after he sees Harrington swipe at his nose - even though it's probably not like that - when they're done that Eddie has to go outside and smoke two cigarettes to stop thinking about it.

Otherwise, they might actually make a good team.

[johns-prince]

I Don't Know (Oh Johnny Johnny)

After listening to this "forgotten" song by John and Paul on repeat, with excruciating scrutiny of trying my darndest to make out the lyrics.

This song is approximately recorded around 1960, could have even been 1959, and I've read it was apparently recorded when the group was going by the Silver Beatles. Also, apparently recorded at Paul's house? I'm not sure.

Whether you think it's just them fooling about, simple improvising and nothing at all, I think if they were going to take the effort to record it, it had to mean something.

Even if some or half of it is "improv," it still sounds like a conversation between the two.

It's not unlike them to use music to communicate and express personal thoughts and feelings, wants. There's also nobody else there... it's just them.

Just a couple of the clearer lyrics from Paul at the start:

"Hey now Johnny Johnny, oh Johnny Johnny, oh Johnny Johnny, oh Johnny Johnny, Oh God, Johnny boy, how are we gonna tell them?"

"Oh Johnny boy you wore me out"

It also sounds in one line Paul is singing, "Well you got me!"

Then John starts up.

And I know some people claim the start for John here is him saying "Well little boy" but I have to say that doesn't match up with what I've heard.

Doesn't sound anything like boy, but it does sound like John is saying, "Oh little darling, packing my shoes.. " can't make the following bit before, "cuz I'm losin' you"

"I'm going to see my sister soon. She don't want to see me I don't know really what I'm gonna do what I'm gonna do."

Now you've got Paul again:

"Well Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, when I call you Johnny, well Johnny Johnny oh Johnny, when I'm calling you..."

"Well I don't know what I'm going to tell them..." okay, these lyrics are really difficult to decipher. Maybe it's just my brains attempt at conjuring coherent words from the incoherent sounds, but, what follows this sounds ALMOST sounds as if Paul is telling him what he'll tell the fellas, about thoughts regarding John (I've still got thoughts of you/I'll still have thoughts of you/or, I'll still vouch for you)

Then the closest thing to ever getting to hear what Paul McCartney sounds like when pleading:

"Please Johnny, please Johnny"

John's response is:

"Well I'll tell the fellas I'm traveling with you"

And funnily enough, it's John saying, "I don't know what I'm gonna to do when I tell my mother we're gonna leave town." Of course if this is recorded in 1958/1960, Julia is no longer around...

Paul reiterates this though, confirming it, "Yeah we're gonna leave town."

Paul continues with this dogged line, I can catch a couple of "we gotta leave, we just gotta leave, we gotta leave right now."

Then—

"Take the next bus out of town, then we won't let nobody down!"

It's a conversation about getting out, breaking out, starting over just the two of them... With some interesting mentions of family and friends finding out, about something, with them, between them? And disappointing everyone, causes family to turn them away.

The reason couldn't have just been that they were wanting to become famous musicians together, right? I don't think that alone could be it considering Mimi nor Jim, or Julia or John's sisters, ever turned them away or shunned them because of this dream they were already chasing by this time.

The song progresses to where it sounds as if John has reservations about leaving, he's not as confident about the plan as originally thought.

Paul keeps singing the "we gotta leave, get outta town." I caught a "don't hold me down."

John starts repeating "I don't know" which results in Paul repeatedly calling out, "Oh Johnny Johnny Johnny oh Johnny Johnny Johnny Johnny..." Again, it's almost like pleading, "How could you not know? We have to go, we have to leave town, you can't tell me “I don't know” now. Don't do this now."

Now, I will say this, the full lyrical interpretations of this song, while I commend others for trying too, hold too many issues for me to agree upon their validity. I don't catch any "I love yous" and the such, but I think what I have caught, and how John and Paul are singing to each other and with each other here, alone, as teenage boys chasing their dream, is enough to convince me still that this song is so intimately about them, their relationship, and what they dreamed of doing together.

Running off, getting out and creating music together. Running away together. The song technically foreshadowing this honeymoon-esque trip of John and Paul doing just that when John turned 21, and with 100 quid took Paul on a trip.

Two teenage boys not knowing what to do, lamenting over something, something getting out to their family that would cause them to be turned away and to cause disappointment. I don't necessarily attribute that to them chasing the dream of becoming famous musicians together, but it could be. It could be many different things. Could just be me overanalyzing...

The end of the song is a lot more scrambled, difficult to make out, but it sounds like both John and Paul are back to both agreeing to the fact they need to get out, leave town, together.

Also imagining the fact they probably looked something close to this while thumping around and singing this song in Paul's house, alone together, gives me feelings.