#and people won’t judge how you live your life and raise your kids.
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I think it’s really funny when parents post their family’s life all over the Internet and then start screaming crying throwing up ect because people judge how they’re running their families
#‘why are you calling us bad parents for shoving our six kids in an rv when we can afford a better option :(‘#‘why are you calling us bad parents for not giving our children any personal space or privacy :(‘#‘why do you keep saying our kids will hate us in the future :(‘#‘you have no right to judge you don’t know everything about us just what we post :(‘#and meanwhile they’re updating every five seconds#to let you know everything they ate for breakfast that morning and every bump and scrape their kids get#and every single extremely personal and very sensitive detail of their child’s life#‘waa you can’t judge us nobody is perfect :(‘ welcome to the Internet that’s what people do here#maybe don’t upload every detail of your personal life and how you raise your kids#and people won’t judge how you live your life and raise your kids.
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my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do
#if my dad had any brain cells or observational skills whatsoever#he’d realize that in terms of our faith the problem is not the boyfriend. that guy is brilliant and open minded and would probably ace RCIA#the problem is my sister. who is catholic in name but it’s clear to me how hard she’s fallen away from the faith#but like my dad has created such a bitter home environment we never have meaningful conversations with him#so like he doesn’t know *anything* about our inner lives#all he sees is labels. all he judges people by is labels#literally you can still get married in the church to a non catholic it’s just a matter of expecting them to convert eventually#and promising to still live according to the principles of the church and raising your children as such#but my parents are absolute fools if they think that’s the issue. if my sister was true in her faith her bf would have converted already#i am sure of it. the guy is smart he just needs to be guided the right way#evidently my parents don’t realize that about him either#if my dad could become a decent parent for once and stop trying to drive his kids away from the faith by only cherrypicking the parts of it#that intersected with republican/conservative boomerisms#ugh. if he was a virtuous father she’d be a virtuous daughter and therefore all her friends and loved ones would be virtuous as well#should i blame my dad for all our family problems? no.. not rightfully……#but like. the impact a father has on one’s life cannot be understated#ugh i’ve had the sense for a while that God wants me to be the one to fix this family#because looking around it doesn’t look like anyone else is gonna do it#but that’s such a daunting task… especially alone… i don’t have any true friends (ie who share both my faith and life experiences)#and like. it’s really hard to try to assume the role of a teacher or counselor when someone is older than you#or uh. in a position of direct power over you for that matter. esp when clearly deeply mentally ill#the concept of trying to essentially parent my own parent while i myself am miserable and unstable#esp when he is the primary cause of that#just. ughhhhh it’s such a vicious circle#like i’ll do this if i have to i’ll undertake that daunting mission but i have to be so careful and really sort myself out first#or for that matter if i were to volunteer to like. catechize my sister’s boyfriend (heaven knows she couldn’t do it)#i’d have to really study my stuff bc i think the intellect is the only real appeal here#like i said tho his conversion can probably never really happen as long as my sister remains the way she is#what i know is that the first step is fixing myself. i have to be a pillar of virtue if i wanna stand as any sort of authority on the faith#problem is i suck and shouldn’t be regarded as a role model for anything. i have the knowledge down but that alone won’t fix me
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Heyyyy I saw your Danny Phantom comic about him reading the Great Gatsby during the fight with Vlad (great art btw), and I was wondering if u could give a long-suffering student a rundown of the themes?
I’m gonna cover the themes I can think of off the top of my head and if you really need me to go into more details, I CAN??? But this is just a quick “it’s 7 in the morning for me and I’m actually gonna hyperfixate real quick” kinda moment.
Yes, there are two kinds of rich people, and yes, one side really doesn’t like the other. It’s apparent in Tom and all of his opinions of Gatsby are later on in the book when he finally attends one of his fancy parties.
Old money gets their opinions and styles and tastes from their parents who got it from their parents. It’s a boys club, if you’re in? You’re in, and it’s hard to get in unless you’re of a certain pedigree.
New money? Loud. Outrageous. Doesn’t even know what to do with all that money and everyone is welcome to enjoy it. Gatsby owns a BRIGHT ASS YELLOW CAR not because it’s of a certain model but because it screams loud and expensive and “look at me” and it’s not just cause he’s trying to get with your wife. He knows how to ACT like old money, to a certain degree, but at the end of the day, he can’t hide that he wasn’t born into it.
An unreliable narrator is usually a story told from a first person point of view and their own biases can often warp the reader’s perspective on the events unfolding. Nick even tries to clarify that he doesn’t judge people. Yeah, OUT LOUD, but he’s judging internally. Which is making you, the reader, judge. Tom has an affair with Myrtle Wilson. Nick IS quietly judging them although he tries not to and how could he not? Daisy is his cousin, and he sees the man she’s married make her move away from Chicago and Tom is not hiding his affair very well, she clearly knows about it and hates it.
Oh but here comes Gatsby, with this beautiful story of how he fell in love and went to war and couldn’t be with her and came back and she’s MARRIED and now he’s trying to win her back- and Nick HELPS HIM. THAT’S NOT UNBIASED. HE IS SWAYED. He sides with Gatsby through and through, even when he starts to see the flaws in Gatsby’s vision, he wants to cheer for him.
We’re going back to the green light here for a minute. Gatsby gets a house DIRECTLY ACROSS the lake from where Daisy’s is. There’s the green light at the end of her dock that flashes, that’s a reminder to Gatsby when he looks out that his dream is just over there. Daisy, the perfect gal, along with acceptance into the fancy rich lifestyle. He wants to meet her parents, he wants to have kids with her, he wants to be a somebody, an established respectable person.
But he’s kind of fooling himself too. He wants too much. It’s not enough to have Daisy, she needs to RENOUNCE her ever loving Tom and then properly marry him. He wants to be a part of the boy’s club, but Tom finds out that he has gained his wealth through the mafia and that’s not very respectable! He wants Daisy to call him in the morning, a call that never comes because she won’t cast aside her lifestyle for him. She was raised to trust and live in the sheltered life she was brought up in, even if she’s unhappy. It’s safer than the unknown. She chooses to stay with Tom, as even she realizes she can’t live up to Gatsby’s ideals.
It’s ironic cause this is the Oxford English Dictionary definition and Gatsby is an “Oxford Man!” Not only has Gatsby idealized on the American Dream, but it’s a dream that was never real. Yes, he did get rich, but not because he had equal opportunities. He got lucky to help out an old rich man on his boat (WHICH HE DIDNT EVEN GET ANY MONEY FROM) to learn the rich social skills, and he worked with the mafia to get all his wealth. Yes, he got Daisy, but not REALLY. He had an affair with her. They didn’t marry properly, didn’t have kids, didn’t move in together. And Daisy never intended on doing any of these things. She wanted to run away.
And Gatsby was never going to get these things because he wasn’t BORN rich. Tom represents the concept of Old Money so well not only in how he lacks any genuine character that isn’t inherited from his father, but how protective he is of keeping the status quo, so that he remains in power and no one who doesn’t fit the club can come in.
And Gatsby pays the price of his affair while Tom gets away with everything. How is this the American Dream? It isn’t.
Okay, that’s my stuff. I can go into symbolism on the yellow car and big billboard and all that other stuff if this was helpful at all. I hope it is helpful???
#the great gatsby#I am not an English major#momoask#can’t believe I got this ask because I made a Danny phantom comic#that’s so wild
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"I'm not saying I didn't like it."
Type: Fanfiction
Fandom: Mortal Kombat
Characters: Harumi Shirai, Hanzo Hasashi, Kuai Liang
Harumi let out a phew as she finished with the kitchen. She made a mental note to never let Hanzo try to cook ever again. She looked outside the window over the sink, observing the Shirai Ryu training under the shapeshifter. Speaking of the family, the sound of armor clinking made its way to her ears. She turned her head to see Hanzo.
“Mission?”, she asked.
Hanzo nodded, “It is a matter I can solve on my own, Harumi. So Kuai Liang will be staying back.”
“Great, I won’t get lonely without you then.”, Harumi playfully said, to which the maskless King gave a soft smile.
“Oh I am sure you won’t.”
“What are you two talking about?”, Kuai Liang asked as he entered the kitchen to greet his partners.
“Are we not allowed to?”, Harumi asked, smiling and with an eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s a joke, Kuai Liang.”, Hanzo said.
“I know, I’m just stating facts.”
“Right, well.”, Harumi continued, “I’m finished here, so I can take over for the kid in the training sessions today.”
Hanzo raised an eyebrow, “Why? They seem to have everything under control.”
“Three thousand years old is practically a teenager in Edenian years, I was told. Let the kid have a life outside of the clan.”
“But they’re not Edenian?”
“Closest thing. I don’t know their lifespan.”
“Right.”, Hanzo said before walking closer to Harumi, planting a kiss on her cheek, “I’ll be heading out then. Careful you two.”
“Aren’t you forgeting something?”, Kuai Liang asked, moving to stand next to Harumi just as Hanzo was ready to head out the door.
The taller man stopped and stared at him in silence for a moment, before it seemed he finally understood what Kuai Liang meant, judging by his facial expression. Hanzo moved back towards him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek as well before walking out the door.
Kuai Liang stood frozen for a solid minute before shaking his head and trying to call after Hanzo, “I meant your mask, idiot!”
“I uh, think he already left.”, Harumi said.
Kuai Liang made a weird noise from his throat, his face beet red, which made Harumi chuckle.
“Are you okay?”
“No! I’m not used to this!”
“Hey, don’t worry. You can tell Hanzo you didn’t like it and he won’t do it again.”
“I’m not saying I didn’t like it.”, Kuai Liang mumbled.
“What?”
“What?”
The two stood stared at each other for a few seconds before Kuai Liang turned his head in embarrassment.
“You know.”, Harumi said, “There is nothing wrong with liking Hanzo as well.”
“Isn’t he with you?”
“Yes, but,”, she stepped closer to him, “Kuai, I think you should understand that both Hanzo and I don’t see your presence as an obstacle to our relationship. Really, we want you to be part of it.”
“I-Is that how relationships work....?”
Harumi chuckled, taking his hand in hers, “I believe it is called ‘polyamory’, Kuai Liang.”
Kuai Liang let her hold his hand as he continued to think. Hanzo and Harumi were two of the most important people in his life, and he never wanted their relationship to break. Would this make him feel better? Would it truly consecrate their bond for as long as they lived?
“I......think we should talk more when Hanzo comes back.”
Harumi cupped his hand with a soft smile, “Take your time, Kuai. And remember, you are not forced to agree into anything. We only want you to be happy.”
“..I understand. Thank you Harumi...I love you.”
“Love you two, Kuai.”
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Just watched family by choice episode 3 and 4, and here are my thoughts
Fuck sanha’s mom. Literally fuck her honestly, she made me so mad. Like you abused your
To haejun im lowkey pissed off at him. I hate how he would only start to take juwon’s side when sanha takes hers. I get he doesn’t have a mom or his mom abandoned him but that doesn’t give him the right to flip out on sanha everytime someones mom comes back, like what the fuck? Also his father ARGHVSHS FUCK HIM TOO😭 tho i love how he really thinks of jeong jae as his dad but in the next episode looks like his mom will come back so like what sanha said “once your mom comes back you can act whatever you want and I won’t interfere” so real. Tho i hope he doesn’t leave jeong jae cuz if he does then the 10 yrs of him raising him was a waste. He was basically an orphan, his father was never present in his life and his mom abandoned him and said “she’ll come back when she makes money”, left him to her sister who was in college, and jeong jae practically took him as his son. I LOVE jeong jae, he’s the best father ever😭 whatever happens he still love those kids and that will never ever change. Lowkey if haejuns mom and jeong jae starts liking each other romantically idk juwon’s prob gonna be happy cuz they’re family in paper but only haejun and her.
Ngl i giggle when sanha tells her that😭 that he doesn’t wanna be family like GIRL HE WANTS TO BE A DIFFERENT KIND OF FAMILY TO YOU😭 he wanna wife you up girl, they’re so cute actually im TWEAKING. I’m manifesting he doesn’t go to seoul cuz if he really does i am gonna shit my brains out wuddufug.
Tho i kinda feel bad for the 3 of them, no moms😭 i wonder if they also show juwons mom.
Oh oh!! I feel like there’s gonna be sonething more or side of juwon cuz she always shows her family she’s happy and stuff but never sad, she didn’t even tell them what the junho guy said (sanha looked so hot being jealous) and it’s like she doesn’t really care about what she feels and only the people around her, very selfless and idk im sobbing.
Jeong jae omygod😭 I AM SOBBING FOR HIM LOTERALLY. He LOVED. Those kids, more than their “parents” biological parents could ever. They could never have the same bond that they have with him and that will never change, he took haejun as his child even if they weren’t related, he took and loved sanha too aswell as sanha’s dad ( their friendship is so cute) all that while also balancing his love for juwon and that’s a talent. I mean yeah he also has dae wook but loving all of them equally not having a favourite is a talent. Look not judging my mom or anything but she practicallygave me what i needed to live, a roof, food and shit but ngl she only started to actually show her love to me after i nearly died in the icu during a coma😭 and that’s kinda what bothers me, idk i hate how she’s only doing it cuz of what happened to me.
In the chinese verson dal went from liking haejun to sanha apparently but idk how that will go😭
Anyways these are all just opinions😭
“ you can’t be family by blood but you can be by love”
#rispwr#kdrama#family by choice#hwang in yeop#jung chaeyeon#bae hyunsung#kdrama series#korean series#family by choice kdrama#yoon juwon#kang haejun#kim sanha
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Love Reading 💙 - January 2023 - Virgo
Singles:
Overall energy: Queen of Pentacles rev
How you will meet: 9 Pentacles
How they will treat you: King of Wands
Long-term Potential: 4 Swords & 9 Wands
This person just doesn’t have it together, probably financially. And they’re running to you about it. They may have been involved with someone else, and if so, you probably already know about that, could be an ex or a baby mom/dad thing. They come around when they’re independent, so single, but they’ve got sneaky intentions. It’s possible it’s money related, I don’t really see that but won’t discount it either. They treat you as someone they’re passionately attracted to, though they aren’t really confident about that and don’t try to mess around��not immediately, that’s not what they’re here for. Long term, you’re healing from whatever situation you’ve been involved with, it may have been karmic or spiritual in nature with The High Priestess here. I don’t see love though, or even you two together. You may be an option to each other, but it doesn’t go past that for some reason. If they pop in, they’ll probably leave again, and could just be after money for some, be careful with that one.
Messages -
Their side:
- Knows how you take your coffee ☕️
- Curvy boy/girl
Your side:
- Nobody got TIME for this mess.
- Status 💰
Signs you may be dealing with:
Leo, Aquarius & Virgo
Couples:
Overall energy: Queen of Wands
Current: 10 Cups
Challenge: 5 Wands
Potential: The Tower
You two come up as King & Queen of Wands, you could have fire placements or just be very passionate and attractive to each other, social, charming & ambitious people. It’s a divine match, 10 Cups & 6 Pentacles shows you’re both over the moon for each other, very happy together. Some outside thing is the issue, their messages show an ex coming in to raise some hell. You’re having a mini crisis because you don’t know if/when this person will ever go away and leave you be. If they have kids, well…they’re part of the deal for awhile, just this one is probably being more difficult than others normally have to deal with. The potential is likely you having a massive fit over this person coming around or whatever they say, you could be acting a bit macho or egotistical, and it’s not helping the situation that’s otherwise very happy between you and your person. Your person has messages of “you belong with me”, and the energy connected to their card is one of romance, sweetness & victory. Calm down Virgo 🙏 This 3rd energy is probably someone that likes to rile you up. If you’re good and you know you’re good, this person shouldn’t be able to affect you too deeply, but definitely sort through the things that bother you, either with your person or privately.
Messages -
Their side:
- Baby mama/daddy Drama
- You belong with me.
Your side:
- Shadow Self 😈
- You make me feel alive!
Oracles -
Their side: Don’t let your feelings be hurt by someone who doesn’t have the soul to judge you.
Your side: It’s your choice to make life easy or difficult; so choose to live with gratitude, loyalty, and commitment.
Signs you may be dealing with:
Aries, Leo, Pisces, Taurus & Scorpio
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You look down on where you came from sometimes
But you’ll have this place to call home, (in my heart) always
To my friend. To my soul sister.
I’ll always miss you Jaymie.
_________________________________________________
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound of your breathing vest beating your chest filled the camp dorm room.
It was just me and you in an empty dorm in the middle of a hot day in June.
Summer camp was the best growing up. The one week in the year where me and our favorite friends just got to have fun and hang out with seemingly endless time.
For you and I the only interruption to our day of fun was this. A constant reminder that just being here could land you in the hospital.
I watched from my bunk bed as you sat there and coughed while the contraption beat all the junk in your lungs back up for you to cough out. It was a miserable process. One you often tried to convince me that you didn’t need to do some days. But even when you had to. We often sat there laughing and talking about which boys we liked.
Camp would end and you would go back home and more often than not the week of fun would end in a month long stay at the hospital. I visited and sat by to hold your hand as my petite little bubbly friend suffered. You hated the hospital but you never let the staff know because you didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Only ever did you admit it when they were gone and it was just us.
Our whole childhood was like this. Then we became adults together and things only got worse.
They said you wouldn’t make it to twenty-five. I watched as you beat those odds. I also watched people drift in and out of your life. Friends. Guys. Family. By the time we were twenty-six you had been engaged twice. Left twice. Because who wanted to marry a dying girl?
I will always hate them for that.
Who could not love the girl who found my lap at every event and plopped down in it to giggle and talk about life? To silently judge everyone, to laugh about the latest gossip and to share about how life was going. You genuinely listened, cared, and loved.
Then the best news. After cystic fibrosis had ruled over your life from the moment you were born, you were finally getting NEW lungs!!!
New lungs meant no more dying girl stigmas. It meant getting to go on girl trips without the fear of the hospital at the end of it. It meant getting married together. Having kids and raising them together. Experiencing more of life…together.
I was overjoyed for you. Your new lungs were awesome. Perfect in fact. You were finally living life at the speed you wanted to.
We planned a girls trip with all of the joy of being able to fully enjoy it together that October in 2022. A few weeks passed and I decided to check in but never heard back. Finally my phone dinged one day. “Rain check on the girls trip? I’m in the hospital.”
The dreaded sterile place. The place that smelled like crap and bad food. We hated that place. Then the words came that forever will haunt me “rejection”. “My body is rejecting my new lungs.” The news didn’t even come from you. Family members had to notify me because you were too weak to.
Not that. Anything but that. This felt like too big of a problem. They put you on lockdown. You slowly slipped away, refusing to be put back on the donor list, you just seemed to dwindle away. You were tired and I didn’t blame you. Tired of fighting but mostly just coming face to face with the reality that maybe this was the end of your story.
And then you were just gone one night. I’ve never wept that hard before. I didn’t get to say bye or hug you or hold your hand. Or tell you how much you meant to me. The last vision I got to have is you in a casket, fully open to show off how meticulously you planned for your death. And it suited you Jay.
A emerald green designer dress. Curls. Heels. Jaymie from head to toe. Beautiful. Stunning. A light to many even in a cold casket.
But I won’t remember you that way. To me you’re forever the girl who always plopped down in my lap and loved me with the entirety of your heart. So much so that 2 years later. I still feel it. And I know I always will.
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Other shoes you could be walking in.
Looking back, I don’t remember bits and pieces of my childhood or college years or younger years or even my middle age years. So pretty much I’ve just become a puzzle. I sometimes find pieces to put together a past event or time in my life and am dumbfounded as to why I forgot, how I got there & what to do with the big picture.
Putting pieces back together in a puzzle of life events is exhausting. Sometimes those pieces don’t fit anymore, but I could swear that is what happened or at least thought so as it was my reality then or now. Sometimes it is an edge piece that has a straight edge but suddenly it branches to another whole side puzzle. It’s frustrating thinking about it and how to move forward. More pieces seem to be missing than are needed. I can’t help but think that some of those were thrown in the trash so the puzzle wouldn’t have that harsh reality piece.
Where I came from: Divorced parents when I was a toddler/pre-school age. Both parents came from farming families. My Mom raised me by herself, while also being a nurse full-time. The story of a kid raised in the 1980s by a farming family & with my dad’s side cousins. I was lucky to have two brother figures in my life. I wish I had the pictures to put together the puzzle of those times. I find that is why I take so many pictures of others, it’s my point of view of that moment. I can look back and it is a form of journaling that moment.
As they say, live in the moment. But if your anxiety is crippling & you know you just can’t. My videos and pictures are my journaling. When the depression is bad I can’t speak much less write my feelings. Those are the days that I probably will have one therapy session that week. But take a turn of events and spin our world upside down, make the weather wonderful, seeing family & friends do something great and even when the worst thing happens. In that moment, I can’t choose what will happen and most of the time, my mind is broken enough that I won’t slow down. Sometimes by choice because it is a relief to be able to accomplish things & being able to communicate in a way, helpful or not. The sadness may sink in when no one can listen, I mean really listen or even seem to care. People are busy & their focus is on them & their inner circle. So that slight chance I will lose the glimmer of happiness is a fear that fuels my anxiety.
Sometimes I would say I lean towards the choice I know isn’t the best, but it could be. I say to myself that I can take chances & if you know the outcome could be great, even for a moment. That may be bargain shopping or doing way too many things in one day. If I’m called out, I might just go into over explaining, especially if I feel attacked or judged….probably not intentional by the person I’m communicating with but it is my reality. And their judgement & opinion sharing could be a boundary that I don’t understand they are setting. And when my boundaries are pushed, I don’t know if I’m more upset that I let my boundary be broken or whether the person or group contributed to the wall going down. Sometimes I can feel someone climbing slowly over that wall & that is no good either, just communicate and be less passive aggressive or sarcastic. And I’m not innocent in that by any means but I’d like to think that I’m not a manipulative controlling person. Whether that all comes from past trauma response & fighting for my boundaries I haven’t communicated well enough.
It hurts so much when others think they know me & don’t give me a chance. I can be a lot sometimes, but so are other people. If I feel someone doesn’t want me in their life, I probably will slowly stop trying. It hurts, I mean really hurts. Both things can exist, not invited somewhere with a group you thought you know & also while understanding why. Just communicating ahead is a straight arrow, both things can be true that I may feel sad about it and I will appreciate the honesty instead of the hiding it or just lying. I also get it that others would prefer a better friend or family member & that is their choice. But in my shoes, I ruminate. Not other people’s fault, but it takes more for me to shoo that unhelpful thought that others can. I shoulda needs to be I coulda. If you want it better, then humble honest and hopeful communication is going to help way more that just saying ‘just ask for help.’ I honestly just try to do it all myself, I have anxiety of even bothering to think of asking for help. And if you want it done better than do it yourself.
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After Africa...
From the backseat of the car…
“Mom, after Africa, can we go to China?”
Oh, good, he knows we won’t be living here forever…but China??
“Oh…what’s in China, babe?”
“Panda’s…and maybe we can rent a really big hut to live in.”
Rent…ha! When we were leaving Bermuda, Rome learned the difference between owning a house, and renting – “We’ve been borrowing our house from Jennie, the really nice lady who let us pay her to live here. Because houses are expensive, and…” you know the rest. But I liked that he understood the concept of renting a house versus owning one. (Other than one house in my childhood, we always rented growing up. Owning a house was for “rich people”.)
But really this conversation was about “When we leave Africa”. (Yeah, yeah…we just got here! Ha!) But more so, the impermanency of where we are living, and how Rome looked at this as a normal way of living. (Because it IS a normal way of living!). But it isn’t for a lot of other people, so I get the question a LOT – Aren’t you worried about stability? “You have no stability in your life…” “I really think kids need stability” in a nagging voice just because… “Moving isn’t good for kids…” - a lot of opinions that I’m going to pretend come from curiosity rather than judgement, as they are often from people who haven’t moved (internationally) a lot themselves – including myself. Yes, I judge myself – but I’ll tell you why.
We only know what we experience. I was born and raised in a small town in Southwestern Ontario and although we moved a lot through my childhood within that town, I didn’t leave that town until I was 19 for university. That’s what I knew – and I was lucky for many things! I was close with my cousins growing up. We were friends with our neighbors. I was a competitive figure skater, so for 6 years I had my skating friends, a consistent network of friends. And I’m very grateful for it. But if you could have given me the exciting life of travel Rome is living in, I would have taken it in a heartbeat! I dreamed of travel, never believing it was something I would be able to afford to do.
“No matter what you do, you’re going to screw up your kids.” – says a friend. And she’s right. What if I DO give him all this, and he comes back one day and says, “Well…I wish I had THAT (what you had).” It very well can happen. Only time will tell.
So that’s a little background on WHY I’m so in tune with what stability looks like for Rome.
But what is the opposite of stability? One might think instability – duh…but could it be…adaptability? (A skill many adults don’t even have…)
What does stability mean to you? Does it mean always having the SAME? The same house, the same school, the same routine, the SAME friends, the same traditions…where does that leave space for exercising out adaptability muscle? Where does it leave space for learning and growth? (Asked with curiosity, not judgement ;) )
I think the greatest gift he can get from this (other than a global perspective of the world and a sh*t ton of fun with his mom and blended family), is actually, adaptability.
A podcast once told me that me that TRUE security only comes from within. So does STABILITY. For example, if you feel secure because of your job (working for someone else) – what if someone takes your job away? They take away your security? How is that secure? So your true security comes from your skills. Skills you can take with you anywhere. True security can’t be taken away from you.
Similarly, if you feel stable only because everything is the same and nothing is changing, is that really stability at all? If you are confident that everywhere you go, you can handle yourself, make friends, have conversations with new faces, feel comfortable in any type of culture (when no one speaks your language), but you know you’re good – isn’t that true stability. Stability that comes from within and goes with you no matter where you are because you create it yourself.
For kids, I say that I’M his stability. The people he is with are his stability. His family’s presence whether physically or on FaceTime is his stability. Knowing he can go retreat to his same bedroom every night for 18 years (although, having a safe space to be private is important – and he has that.), is not.
Moving schools, neighbourhoods and friends groups sounds “stressful” to people that haven’t tended to do that (or didn’t have good experiences doing it, to be fair). But it’s exciting to others…especially you grow up with it as your normal.
With our ability to communicate with ANYONE we love these days , why does being surrounded by new faces have to make us stressed? There is a comfort in seeing the same people all the time, but it doesn’t have to mean new situations are uncomfortable. They are only uncomfortable until they’re not anymore…
Life is just one big journey of expanding your radius of what’s comfortable. That’s stability.
Friends? When I moved to Bermuda, I only had friends in Canada. After leaving Bermuda, I still have my best friends from Canada, but amazing friends in Bermuda, England, the US, France, South Africa, Zimbabwe… Rome’s got a way earlier head start on me for that!
Routine? If stability comes from routine, going to school is a routine. Wherever we are, he can go to school every day...Coming home every afternoon to Mom, that’s stability. That's what he can count on, no matter where we are.
Another thing that might help (I think ?), is putting him into sports that are international. Football, swimming, etc, sports and activities that you can take anywhere else in the world with you, that way there will always be a little community you can join to meet new people and have familiarity with your sport/activity.
To be fair - this type of living might be different if Rome had a different personality. But hey, we're open to whatever comes our way. We’re going with the flow. Should it really not be working for any of us, we can ADAPT. Or as they say in Zimbabwe, “We’ll make a plan.”
Because I am human, sometimes I’m defensive to peoples questioning of my style of living, even though I wouldn’t choose otherwise. Holding on to my core values always helps shake that initial defensiveness off. Also, the reminder that you don’ know what you don’t know, and most people don’t know what expat life is like. Most people are scared of it. Because...it isn’t “stable”...
Our plan is to start in Zim for about 3 years…if you were wondering…no further questions at this time. Thanks! (HA!)
#zimbabweexpat#canadianexpat#expatlife#expatfamily#expatmom#parenting#parentinglifestyle#movetoafrica#internationallifecoach#lifecoach
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Kimberly Burge: Changing Her Course Like a Boss
Yes, she did go to the Pink concert Saturday night. That was her, yes, dressed in pink, too, in Pittsburgh. She even drank a pink drink, wore pink sunglasses, and she posted show videos to social media just like some of her former elementary school students most likely did, too. And it was OK, for a change. See, the Summer 2023 has been the season of change for Kimberly Burge and her family. A lot of change, in fact, in both her personal and professional lives, and the biggest of all the decisions proved water cooler worthy around town. People whisper when a 20-year principal resigns unexpectedly, right? And then, they say, she goes into the radio sales business? What could be wrong? Folks jump to conclusions, immediately think something’s afoul, and at times, they even spread unfair speculation. Rumors, that is. That's what's wrong. But nope, there was none of that nonsense involved with Burge’s decision making. Just her wish for change. The Burge family is as tight-knit as they come. What is the one back-to-school item parents usually forget, and why is it such a big deal to the child? Catholic school is a little different from public schools. We gave families supply lists and we always got everything we asked for honestly. The kids came OVER prepared in most cases. I think you can never go wrong with pencils! Kids use, lose, or eat (LOL) more pencils in a week than you could imagine. That’s why it is always a nice idea to send a few extra packs of pencils, pens, crayons, etc., to the teacher for the year. That way the teachers have them to share with kids that cannot afford or just having had a chance to restock through the year. Teachers are all buying those supplies from their own pockets! For the first time in more than two decades, you are not preparing to return to school as an educator and administrator. How does that feel right now? It is a really weird feeling. I am still gearing up for back to school with my own kids, but professionally it is hard. I have been in education my entire adult life. Not walking into school on August 1st and doing schedules and back to school packets is crazy. Choosing a new career is exciting and scary all at the same time. It's hard for Burge to believe her daughter, Jayden, will be a senior at Central Catholic this Fall. What will you miss and what will you not miss about your former career? I will definitely miss the kids the most! I honestly looked at all of the kids as my own. My job was never a 7-3 job. I was available to the kids and families 24/7, 365 - good or bad. I have always loved seeing kids that I had and them telling me about their careers and families. It made it all worth it. I will NOT miss the stress of the job. Obviously, you cannot please everyone, and we live in a world of keyboard warriors. People often don't understand the WHY behind decisions or telling them no and cannot handle that. Having people judge me for reasons they did not understand finally wore on me. I won't miss the lost time with my own family. My kids are growing so fast and involved in so many things. I will not miss any of their events for work. My daughter is a senior and this will be an exciting and very busy year for her. I want to soak it all in. What are the biggest differences between raising a son and raising daughters? I always say I do not understand how two kids can come from the same parents and be raised the same way and be totally different! I think raising each is easy and hard at different times. I think girls are MUCH easier as toddlers. Boys are generally way more rough-and-rowdy and mine was no exception. The preteen years with a girl is HARD! Now that both of mine are a little older, they are easier again in many aspects, but the worrying has changed. They used to not sleep and keep me up and now I stay up to make sure I hear them come in. It is a constant worry that they are making the right decisions and that the foundation we as parents have laid is enough to equip them with that ability. I think I have a good relationship with both of my kids that they can come to me with anything. Sure, they know they will still maybe get in trouble, but they know I will protect them and help guide them through anything that comes their way. As we start making "after high school" decisions, it all becomes clear just how fast these years really go. The days are LONG, but the years are short for sure. Burge's decision to leave St. Michael's was a very difficult, but the time felt right to re-invent. Why radio sales with The River Network? I love talking to people and wanted a new challenge. I saw the ad for this job and thought it may be something I could be good at. I love the people here and hope to be a part of The River Network for a long time to come. Read the full article
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Gimme Some Sugar
Eddie is originally from Tennessee and has the accent to prove it. He keeps it hidden after he’s been bullied about it, but after the Upside Down, he finds people he can be himself about. And who knows, maybe Steve likes the southern accent? (spoiler, he does).
On AO3.
Ships: Steve x Eddie
Warnings: bullying and period typical homophobia mention
~~~~~~~~~~
Let it be known that Eddie Munson doesn’t conform. He doesn’t care and will make sure that it’s everyone’s problem in the way he carries himself, in how loud he is. Eddie Munson is himself and he won’t be changed.
However, Eddie Munson also wasn’t born in Hawkins, only arriving in the small Indiana town in his first year of middle school at eleven years old. Before that he had lived with his parents, but when your father puts your mother in the grave, you tend to be taken away by CPS and dumped on your closest relative.
For Eddie that had been his Uncle Wayne, who had taken in a traumatized preteen and made it his life work to ensure the kid landed alright. Wayne turned his trailer into something welcoming, warm, allowing the kid to feel at home. Part of that was letting his twang that he had long since dropped to fit in, ooze out. A bit of familiarity within all the change and loss.
Because the Munsons weren’t from around here, most of the Munson family had been born and raised in Tennessee. Including Eddie.
Yet that familiarity meant nothing when Eddie came home crying about how everyone was making fun of him and calling him a cowboy. So, Wayne held the boy and cursed the meanness of kids, before helping Eddie hide his twang.
It faded over time and with it did the teasing. Soon Eddie wore a metal shirt to school and that was enough for them to find something else to tease him about. Cowboy Eddie faded to obscurity and he was more than happy with that.
So no, Eddie Munson doesn’t conform… most of the time. But a small town can get to anyone, including the anti-establishment and conformity metalhead.
If Eddie’s honest, had he known how he would end up, he probably would have kept the accent and fucked everyone. It’s his mama’s voice, the soothing rumble of his uncle after a nightmare, his own when he’s passionate or tired. It has a lot of memories and he shouldn’t have given it up as easily, looking back.
However, it’s too late now and he’s not going back. He’ll save it for his dramatics and his favorite DnD NPCs.
Of course, all those concerns about being mocked for one of his only good memories, fades the second Chrissy levitates before turning into a human pretzel in his living room. Then he is more concerned with getting the fuck away and out of there.
And it’s only the tenseness and how aware of his every move, how the others perceive him, judge him, that keeps the put upon accent in his voice when Dustin comes looking for him. When he pins Steve Harrington of all people to a wall.
God, his life is a mess.
However, it’s the mess that leads him to having some sort of family. He has always had his uncle Wayne of course, but now he has friends that haven’t dropped him after murder allegations (even once proven false), people that believe him, people who know. It’s nice. Maybe worth the three week long hospital stay (luckily bills paid for by the government).
Normally Eddie is very much against the government, a sentiment that hasn’t been helped by seeing what they were up to with the Upside Down. However, he isn’t above accepting a new house and paid for medical bills as a ‘sorry you got caught up in our illegal experiments, if you say anything you’re dead before you can blink’-gift.
So, he accepts that he is healed for free and doesn’t have to live in the trailer where he witnessed Chrissy die. And he tries to adjust back to life again.
It’s difficult to go back to normal, when people stare at you like you’ve personally come over and murdered their grandmother, but he manages. He has always held his head high and he’s not stopping now.
Though, he’s glad he can sit with Robin and Nancy and a newly returned Jonathan in the breaks, just so he isn’t alone. As well as Dustin, Lucas and Mike, currently the only other members of Hellfire and Max. However, what he likes most is Steve coming over after school and being able to hang out with him.
Eddie never thought he would be hanging out with Steve Harrington after school of all people and if you had suggested it to him in early March, he would have laughed in your face. Strange how alternate dimensions and nearly dying can shift one’s perspective.
But Steve has been a surprise. Not an unpleasant one, of course, just surprising. Because Steve is a really good guy.
Sure, he had admitted that to him in the Upside Down, but it’s only after, once he’s fully integrated into the group, that he gets to witness the extend of that. Steve has fully shed King Steve that he was known as in high school and has turned into, what Eddie can only describe as, a tired mother of seven.
And he’s not joking. He has seen Steve with a dishtowel slung over his shoulder, both hands on his hips with the gaggle of kids in front of him, heads hung low, as he scolds them, before giving into their wishes. Because Steve is not just a mom, he is also incredibly soft for those kids. The little bastards have him wrapped around their little fingers.
It’s honestly hilarious to watch. Eddie won’t describe it as the fall from grace of the great King Steve, more like the rise to protector of Sir Steve. Though he isn’t telling Steve that.
Yeah, okay, so maybe Eddie has a bit of a crush on Steve.
But it’s not his fault, okay! Steve has just punched him in the face with his overbearing caring (that is likely built on being the one between the others and death many times) and his kind attitude, even if he pretends to be annoyed. How he listens, offering an ear and a shoulder as well as advice if needed.
Like, Eddie has always heard that Steve was hot, but seeing that he was an asshole he never pinged on Eddie’s radar. Now, however, he’ll look at Steve in his polo’s and mom-jeans while he ruffles Dustin’s hair and it’s the hottest thing he has ever seen.
Or Steve will laugh at a joke made by Lucas and it’ll be about something King Steve would have never cared about, but he’s laughing, because he learned, because he cares for these kids. His head will be thrown back, showcasing his neck and he’ll clutch his side, showing off his arms. Not to mention that he looks so happy, which is such a good and deserved look on him. Yeah, it makes Eddie want to loose his mind.
And to make things worse for Eddie, it’s not just physical things that has him fluttering around Steve like a moth to the light. If it was purely physical, Eddie could shove those feelings aside until he got over it. But, like he said before, it isn’t, because what makes Steve so attractive is his personality.
It makes Eddie want to rip his hair out and he loves his hair.
Because Steve is just comfortable to be around and he has made it his mission to worm his way into Eddie’s life. Much to Eddie’s surprise, who had expected to be dropped by King Steve the moment the life threatening situation was over.
Only to wake up in the hospital with Steve sitting next to him, slumped over and asleep in an uncomfortable plastic chair. That takes him a moment to process, his uncle Wayne rumbling in that comforting twang: “There ya are. They ain’t telling me a thing ‘bout what happened to ya, but I’m glad ya have some friends. That fella hasn’t left your side in days.”
Uncle Wayne has never been one for deep talks, but Eddie is still glad for him there. He nearly cries and says in a thick accent: “Uncle Wayne, I ain’t never been so happy to see your face,” and means it with his whole heart.
Steve wakes up with the noise and Eddie manages to play off his accent due to being in a coma for a few days. Leaning into the carefully embrace, glad Steve remembered he is more stitch than skin at that moment.
And he still doesn’t know why he hid. His accent was something he loves, deny it as he might, it’s a good memory and after nearly dying together in a hell dimension that is hardly the strangest thing Steve has seen. But maybe a part of Eddie was unsure if the caring Steve he had seen would last beyond saving the world. Maybe he questioned if Steve being there was a sign of friendship or an obligation he felt he had.
Whatever it was he had hidden and it is weird to start now.
Still, Steve makes it very very hard, because Steve is comfortable. Steve makes Eddie feel comfortable. And Eddie associates his accent with comfort. So, he has to fight not to slip into it when they’re hanging out together. Because yeah, he and Steve hang out together now.
It starts with Steve showing up at his trailer after having stayed at the hospital until Eddie is discharged. When he opens the door and finds Steve, arms full of papers, his only repose is: “What the fuck.”
“I am going to be the most horrible friend right now, maybe even person,” Steve starts, the words almost a ramble, “but I have all the assignments you missed in the hospital and we’re going to make them. I have bribe snacks.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Eddie says, completely confused. “You. Steve Harrington. You are here to help me with my missed assignments?”
“Uhm, yeah,” Steve looks bashful. “I- I mean, I can go, if you want to. I get it if you don’t want me here. I- uhm, guess I thought it would be less intimidating to start with someone there. But that doesn’t have to be me, of course. I can go. I should go.”
And Eddie never thought he’d see the day Steve was hesitant, afraid Eddie wouldn’t want to hang out with him. He also thought he’d never he’d see the day where he wanted to hang out with Steve, but here he is.
“No, stay,” the words are out before he can stop them, but Steve just looks so unsure and Eddie is pretty sure he falls the moment he sees Steve’s relieved smile.
“I can’t promise I’ll be much help,” Steve tells him. “Got knocked around a bit in Junior and Senior year, but I graduated so that counts for something.”
And Eddie jokes: “I don’t care, man. You brought snacks,” as he lets him in with a grin.
They take to ‘studying’ together, which is more Eddie complaining as he works while Steve pulls sympathetic faces and throws snacks his way. That in turn leads to Steve coming around just because. Until Steve is coming to check on him in the middle of the night, because he dreamed Eddie hadn’t made it, which blossoms in the two sticking together through bad nights on the flat roof of the new little Munson home or the sofa and kitchen.
So, yeah, that is where Eddie is now. Hopelessly smitten for Steve Harrington and very close friends that are so comfortable that Eddie finds himself nearly slipping into an accent. His accent. A strong Tennessee accent that he keeps hidden for some reason now.
If he allows himself to be honest, he knows that it is because he’s shy about it. Eddie has never been shy about anything, but the soft lilt of his voice, the twang that coats it, it’s personal. Private.
And yeah, he knows thousands of people talk like that and he doesn’t own it, but it’s a little piece of his childhood. A little piece of himself that has already been trampled over by the youths of Hawkins. And he doesn’t want to share it when it can be ripped up again by someone who has become so close and dear to him.
Still, even if the accent is hidden, old sayings his mama always used are coming out instead.
It’s currently nearing summer and the heat is seeping in. He and Steve are in his room, cramming for his finals that are coming up. Eddie feels like he’s dying. Not only is the heat killing him, but Steve is right there lounging on the floor in shorts and a tank top, beads of sweat rolling down his neck in a tantalizing way.
To distract himself, Eddie lets out a loud huff, fanning himself with his notebook, before loudly proclaiming: “I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church.” Okay, so maybe a bit of the drawl was there.
But Steve laughs, “What?” sounding amused by his choice of phrase.
Luckily, Eddie often uses strange saying that Steve doesn’t know, because of his dramatics that he has developed over the years of being a dungeon master. So, Eddie just grins: “Never heard that one before, Stevie?” as he plays it off.
But then later, the two are watching as Dustin rages at a game in the arcade – the two have driven the whole gang there, since they no longer fit in Steve’s car alone – and Eddie can’t help but comment: “He’s havin’ a dying duck fit.”
Again Steve gives him that look. That fucking look. It’s a little confused and amused, like he doesn’t fully understand what Eddie just said, but he likes the sound of him talking so he doesn’t mind that he can’t fully comprehend it. Like he’ll listen no matter what and if the words sound good enough, he’s just happy to be amused by Eddie being nothing but himself.
It’s intoxicating that look. Makes Eddie feel special, maybe a bit insane. That look is dangerous, because Eddie is willing to do a lot to keep that look on Steve’s face.
And maybe the next time Steve is there to drive him to school and he is running around trying to find the last of his stuff, it’s on purpose when he says: “If it had been a snake, it would have bitten me!” as he pulls out his pen.
And it’s worth it, because Steve does the face. Then smiles fondly as he shakes his head, before replying: “Watching you run around like that gives me second hand stress. When is your van fixed again?”
“Steve Harrington, are you implying you want to get rid of me?” Eddie gasps, playing appalled, dramatically putting his hand on his heart.
Not expecting Steve to respond with: “Never,” which sounds too genuine and almost makes Eddie look for a meaning behind them that isn’t there. Steve is just a good dude, he reminds himself. He is attached to all his friends and that includes Eddie. It’s nothing special.
It’s nothing special, just keep repeating it, Munson.
But Steve makes it so hard. He’s just always there. After a Hellfire meeting, the van now finally fixed, Steve is there picking up the kids. When Eddie comes out of the building, his smile seems to broaden as he calls out: “Good game, Eds?”
Good game is such a sports term, but on Steve it’s cute. Or at least, that is what Eddie’s brain has decided about it. His smile back comes on his face without permission and he has to work to make it less soft and more of a grin as he replies: “Nearly TPKed the party, so yeah.”
“TPK?” Steve repeats, then lights up. “Total Party Kill, right?” looking so proud at the fact that he remembered.
Eddie melts and he nods: “Yeah, that’s right, big boy.”
If he wants to fool himself, he can say Steve blushes at his words, but he knows better. So, he just waves goodbye, watching Steve get into his car and drive away, trying not to feel too down at his departure. God, his crush is getting sad.
It’s getting sad and Eddie knows it’s all just building inside him ready to blow. He has never had the best self control (it’s one of the things that lead to him being labeled a freak, his inability to stop whatever was coming out of him mouth), so he knows that he will do something stupid soon and loose Steve and his friendship.
Yeah, loose Steve. He might be a great guy, but it’s still Bumfuck, Indiana and Eddie knows the chances of Steve wanting to be his friend after finding out Eddie is gay and into him. He knows his chances all too well. It’s one of the reasons he works so hard to conceal that soft part of himself, the part that isn’t loud. The part that can get hurt so easily.
As predicted it all comes to a head on a stuffy night nearing the summer break. Eddie has finished all his finals and now it’s just waiting for the horrid news. He has a chance, but that’s what he thought the previous years too. And with his new nightmares, the fear of not passing again is enough to keep him up at night.
Tonight is such a night. Uncle Wayne is off to work and Eddie is alone in his house, breathing quickly, feeling scared and alone. The thoughts in his head are too fast to grasp, but slow enough to stress him out. With shaking hands he dials a familiar number.
“This is the Harrington residence, Steve Harrington speaking,” Steve answers the phone, sounding too awake and formal for the hour. Chances are, he was already awake when Eddie called.
“Steve,” he greets. “I- uhm, It’s Eddie.”
“Hey, Eds,” Steve greets, sounding more upbeat, before realizing why Eddie probably called. “Are you okay, man?”
“I don’t know,” Eddie says, though he knows the answer is no.
And Steve knows that the answer is no too, so he tells Eddie that he’s on his way, before hanging up.
With the assurance that Steve is coming, Eddie manages to calm down a bit. Wandering further into the kitchen and putting on the kettle. When they first started hanging out after nightmares, they drank beer, but with more ease between them, they found tea to be more calming.
Still, he can’t fully calm down until he opens to door to find Steve. His hair is a mess and he’s still in his pajamas, as if he literally rolled out of bed and into his car. However, showing his obvious relief is a bit too revealing, so he just dramatically exclaims: “Well, I declare, Steve Harrington on my little old doorstep.”
Steve huffs out a little laugh, before stepping inside and hugging Eddie. Then he steps back, making Eddie miss the heat, as he jokes: “I live to surprise, Mr. Munson.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie rolls his eyes, hoping his blush isn’t obvious.
They go further into the house, Eddie pouring them tea as Steve takes his now customary seat at the table. He looks comfortable there. At home. Very much at ease, since he has done this a thousand times before. A fact that Eddie tries not to have any emotions about.
He presents Steve his tea with a flourish, then sits down as well. He lets the mug warm his hands, his face close enough that the steam blows his face. It’s too hot to do that, but it’s calming. He remembers how cold the Upside Down was.
After a beat of silence, Steve softly asks: “Wanna talk about it?”
Both of them know that some nights you just want to sit in silence, while others you need to repeat what you saw, hear that it is over. Tonight Eddie doesn’t know. He blows out a deep breath, before saying: “It’s actually a bit stupid.”
“I called you last time, because a pile of laundry on my floor looked like a portal and you had to climb through my window, because I didn’t want to leave the bed,” Steve deadpans. “I think we’re past stupid.”
Eddie laughs a little. At the time, it hadn’t been funny to hear Steve’s panicked voice over the phone, before he was forced to hang up and race to the other side of town. But with the power of hindsight and humor to cope, the whole thing was pretty funny.
“Alright,” he concedes. “I’m just worried about my grades. And I know that’s, like, nothing compared to getting mauled by bats, but I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I fail again. Probably something illegal.”
“You already do something illegal often,” Steve points out, before shrugging, “but I get it. And it’s not stupid.”
“No?” Eddie asks, unable to hide the vulnerable tone in his voice.
“No,” Steve repeats firmly. “You’ve had a shit year already, this is something that’s been haunting you for even longer. Of course you’re gonna be stressed about it. But, you got this. I saw you study before the finals. If you fail again, I’m personally talking to the principal alongside my trusty assistant the nail bat.”
Now Eddie laughs for real, the image of Steve standing over principal Higgins with his spiked bat, forcing the man to let Eddie graduate is just too much. Though he won’t deny that he’s a little bit flattered too. Still, he can’t let Steve know that, so he just grins: “Well, I hope for principal Higgins’ sake, my studying was enough.”
“It was,” Steve says firmly, like an argument against him is futile.
Eddie smiles at him, then they fall silent, both drinking their tea. The air around them is comfortable and for a moment that is all Eddie needs to let go of the keyed up energy that has been haunting him.
On some nights they would stay in the kitchen after finishing their tea, usually still talking. But tonight is a quiet night, so they get up and put their mugs in the sink when they’re done. Steve sends Eddie a questioning look and Eddie’s eyes flick to the door. The roof it is today. Well, tonight.
It’s something of a routine. They’d been drunk, back in their beer days, and Steve had claimed something about being a boy scout and Eddie told him that wasn’t true. Naturally that meant Steve claiming he still knew navigating constellations and Eddie betting he knew more than Steve. So they ended up on the roof. It had been calming and quickly became tradition.
If they wanted noise, they’d flip on the TV and plop down on the couch, but on nights they needed peace, they went to the roof.
The two are practically experts at getting up there by now and soon they’re lying side by side, looking up at the stars. Eddie tries not to think about how their shoulders are touching and how he can hear Steve’s breaths.
But, like always, Eddie relaxes in Steve’s presence.
They watch the stars together, first in silence, before Steve starts telling Eddie about a few stars he has randomly clumped together. It’s a bit of game, since they figured out neither of them knew much about constellations.
For a long time, Eddie is content to let Steve talk. He knows he’s usually the center of any show, but he likes listening to Steve talk. His voice is deep and while he can’t string a story as well as Eddie can, he always calls back on memories and it’s impossible to stop listening.
Still, Eddie can’t stay quiet too long, so he takes over at some point. Throughout the night they have migrated closer together, since no matter how close to summer they are, the nights are still cool. So, they huddle close to keep warm.
Right now, Eddie is under Steve’s arm, his head resting on his shoulder, the rest of their bodies pressed together. His fingers playing with the hem of Steve’s shirt.
This position would’ve made him flustered before, but it has morphed into a comfort. He likes Steve, of course he does, he likes him more than he cares to admit. However, he likes Steve mostly because he’s such a calming presence and good friend. So, yeah, he maybe likes the closeness more than he should, but it doesn’t make him bumble like it used to.
It’s comforting.
They’re cozy and Eddie is gesturing with one hand, though he’s flagging, his eyes nearly closing as he talks. He’s so comfortable, he doesn’t notice that his voice started to slow down into a deep drawl.
“And tha’ right there is the lasso,” he murmurs, pointing at some stars. “Weren’t nothing those horses coulda done. Tha’ space cowboy was real fast. I reckon he coulda caught horses all day if they’d’ve let him. He’s a tad too big for his britches ‘cause of it, but ain’t nothing wrong with a lill’ bit of ego aft’r a stunt like tha’.”
“So they gave him a constellation?” Steve asks, sounding amused and a bit confused, which is pretty standard.
Eddie nods sleepily: “Tha’ they did, for sure,” as he drifts off, not seeing the incredibly fond look Steve is giving him.
It’s not unusual for them to fall asleep on the roof. It has happened so often Wayne knows about it (but maybe that had more to do with Eddie nearly falling on him while climbing down. Not the point). The point is, they sleep on the roof for quite a bit.
However, neither of them brought blankets, not thinking they would sleep there. So when the cold wakes them up, they climb down and fall into Eddie’s bed. Not wanting to bother with the extra mattress and both of them with enough chronic pain know better than to sleep on the couch.
When he wakes up the next morning, Eddie has all but forgotten about his space cowboy story and lets himself bask in Steve pressed so closely alongside him for a moment. Then he wiggles himself out of the bed and tiptoes out of the room. If Steve finally manages to get some sleep, then Eddie is going to ensure it lasts as long as possible.
Uncle Wayne is in the kitchen, making breakfast, which has become a habit to eat together. Eddie smiles and greets him, explaining Steve is staying over.
“Ah, Steve again,” Wayne replies, making a suggestive face.
Eddie knows what his uncle is implying and god does he wish that is the case, but instead he just shakes his head: “s not like tha’ an’ ya know it, uncle Wayne.”
“Y’all’re always together, a man hasta check,” Wayne tells him.
“I’d’ve told if there sumthing to tell,” Eddie pouts.
Wayne raises a brow and says: “An’ if ya get your head out of your ass, there might be sumthing there, ya idjit.”
“Whatever,” Eddie sighs. He knows his uncle means well, but he’s wrong, alright. Steve doesn’t like him like that, no matter how badly Eddie wants him to.
Luckily, Wayne lets it go as requested and they settle into the chairs as they talk about whatever comes to mind in the early morning. And it’s nice. He likes talking with Wayne in the mornings over coffee. It’s like it has always been, a little bit of normality after everything.
“So, I’m fixin’ to grab all my dice, since ‘m about to murder the party,” he’s regaling the latest DnD session for Wayne. “An’ Dustin’s madder than a wet hen, ‘cause his character’s ‘bout to explode first. An’ I rolled a bunch of ones! I swear, you ain’t never heard such noise.”
“I believe ya,” his uncle smiles, as he watches him gesture, the only one noticing Steve, who has rolled out of bed and is now watching Eddie with such an awed look. One Wayne has seen so many times before.
… If only those kids got their heads out of their asses.
“I mean, if I had my druthers, I’d’ve been a whole TPK,” Eddie tells him. “But there was nuthing to be done ‘bout it. The dice spoke, I’da been more upset if it weren’t such a great narrative moment, don’tcha know.”
Wayne nods again, but his eyes can’t help, but flick to Steve. Eddie notices and whips around, eyes growing wide as he spots Steve.
Rationally, he knows that Steve, the man who cuddled with him on the rooftop after nighttime stress, isn’t going to make fun of him for his accent. However, rationality and panic have never been friends and right now, Eddie’s brain is doing mostly panic.
“Steve,” he squeaks. “Uhm, hi, good morning. Howdy, haha, I mean, that’s, uhm- It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just horsing around.”
But the more he speaks, the more worried Steve looks and Eddie already misses his soft just awake face, cursing himself for his big mouth. And the foot he has shoved in it. Especially when Steve’s brows pinch close together and he asks: “Are you alright, Eds?”
“Yeah, just didn’t- uhm didn’t expect you there,” Eddie replies, clearing his throat to turn his squeak into a normal voice.
Steve studies him for a few moments. It makes Eddie want to do something dramatic and weird to throw him off and get the attention away. But Steve knows him too well for that and it’ll only garner more suspicion. So, he just has to sit there as Steve figures it out. He might not be the smartest, but he’s perceptive, so it’s just a matter of time really.
“Your voice was different, like last night,” Steve notes after a few moments of silence.
“Uhm, well, yeah, I- uh, I’m-” Eddie splutters, unsure what to say. ‘Yeah, I’m not from here and I have been hiding my accent for no reason.’ or ‘Oh, yeah, I know you’re cool, I just was afraid you’d bully me over having an accent.’ Like, no thanks.
However, it seems like Wayne can’t take it any longer, so he just rolls his eyes and says: “That’s called an accent, son. We’re originally from Tennessee.”
“Tennessee,” Steve repeats, lighting up as he says: “Dolly Parton is from Tennessee.”
And it’s just such a Steve reaction to have that Eddie can’t help but snort, before laughing. He’s doubling over, cracking up every time he looks up and sees Steve’s confused face. In the end, he manages to hiccup: “Exactly, Stevie, ain’t very metal, now is it?”
“Are- Are you ashamed of your accent?” Steve asks, pieces fitting together as he watches Eddie’s face. Then he exclaims: “Why? It’s cute!”
“Wha?” Eddie splutters more, mind going blank at Steve calling him – well, his accent – cute. His mind still reeling he repeats: “Cute?”
“Oh, uhm, it’s attractive? I mean, cool,” Steve is fully blushing, still standing in the pajamas he drove in yesterday.
Apparently that is enough for Wayne, who gets up and says: “Well, I’m goin’ to bed, y’all can figure this one out. Good day, Steve.”
“Good day,” Steve manages to greet back, still rooted to the spot.
To be fair, Eddie is also pretty rooted to the spot. Because, Steve thinks his accent is attractive. Thinks it’s cute. Steve is still blushing. And also still quiet, because they’re still staring at each other and it is starting to get awkward.
Before Eddie can bring himself to say anything, Steve starts to speak in a manner that reveals how much he’s been hanging around Robin: “I’m so sorry, I have completely made it awkward and weird between us. You might not even be gay and if you are you don’t have to like me and I just sprung that on you. I- I’m gonna go. It’s okay if you hate me now. Again, I’m so sorry.”
And it isn’t until he starts to back away that Eddie catches up. He quickly jumps out of his chair, mentally wincing at Steve’s flinch, as he exclaims: “Wait? You like me?”
Steve gets even more red and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. His arms bulge in a way Eddie appreciates, though he’s more focused on Steve’s bashful face as he softly admits: “Yeah, trust me, Robin has made fun of me for falling for the metalhead. I’ve heard enough bad boy meets cheerleader jokes already. Sorry.”
“What’re you apologizing for?” Eddie asks, his accent seeping back in as he tries to comprehend the fact that Steve likes him. Him. Steve Harrington like him.
“For, you know, cuddling up to you and stuff while liking you,” Steve’s voice is almost a whisper now. “I’m sure I made you uncomfortable.”
“Well, now, doll, that’ll be pretty hypocritical of me, now won’t it,” Eddie replies, feeling extremely giddy. “Since I kinda did the same to you.”
It takes Steve a moment to catch on, then his face is splitting in two, a big grin appearing. “You like me too?” he asks, just to make sure.
“I sure do,” Eddie grins, stepping a bit closer, excited when Steve does the same.
Once they’re practically nose to nose, Steve asks: “Can I?” and Eddie is already nodding.
Steve leans in the rest of the way and Eddie mirrors it. Their lips meet in the middle, noses bumping slightly, before lips are pressed together. The whole feeling is electrifying. Eddie feels his heart beat loudly in his chest, his blood singing in his veins. He wants to live in the feeling forever, though they have separate for air.
They breathe, looking each other in the eye, matching goofy smiles on their faces. Steve softly whispers: “Does this mean you’ll say yes if I ask you on a date?”
“I ain’t saying no to that,” Eddie replies, feeling too comfortable and happy to put in the effort of changing his accent. Besides, Steve called it attractive and looking at his red face, Eddie thinks he might have meant it. He smirks: “Sumthing on your mind, doll?”
Steve swallows and goes to shake his head, before stopping himself and saying: “You accent. It’s really nice.”
“Why thank you,” Eddie grins.
Softly and a bit unsure, Steve asks: “Why did you hide it?”
Eddie looks away for a second, but starts talking before Steve can apologize for asking. “It’s my own lill’ thing, ya know. My mama’s a true southern bell, she never let nobody change her and I wasn’t about to either, but, ya know, small town kids are mean. An’ I ain’t letting them taint my mama’s voice with their crude impressions an’ jokes.”
“It suits you,” Steve tells him. “And I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“’s fine, Stevie,” Eddie shrugs. “They found other things to bully me ‘bout soon enough.”
Steve winces like he always does when someone mentions the bullying crowd he used to be a part of, the guilt never fully leaving him. So, Eddie says: “But I trust ya with it, sweetheart. Who you used to be doesn’t amount to a hill of beans comparing to who you are now.”
That makes Steve smile again and he huffs: “I don’t know if you’re messing with me or if that’s an actual saying.”
“It is in Tennessee,” Eddie shrugs.
“Teach me some more?” Steve asks.
Eddie gets a devious grin on his face as he says: “Well, ya have ‘gimme some sugar,’ ‘course.”
“Yeah? And what does that mean?” Steve inquires, the soft amused look on his face giving away that he knows Eddie is up to something.
“It jus’ means askin’ for a lill’ bit of affection. A hug and kiss and all tha’.” Eddie informs him with a grin.
“Well, I can do that,” Steve replies and soon they’re kissing again, the ‘language lesson’ completely forgotten.
The date they go on turns into multiple, which turns into a full blown relationship. Their friends of course catch on and are very happy for them. It’s all something Eddie never thought he would have, so he basks in it.
Slowly Eddie gets more comfortable around everyone, until he stops giving a fuck what anyone thinks of him. They already think he’s a satanist cult leader, speaking funny isn’t anything worse at this point.
Which leads to him in the parking lot of the local grocery store, the kids all rambunctious over the barbecue they’re going to have at the Byers-Hopper house. Steve is loading the rest of the groceries into his car, while Eddie watches the kids muck about. He loudly yells: “Stop horsin’ around an’ get y’alls asses into gear. An’ put the goddamn buggy away, would’ya!”
That gets the boys’ attention, since they have to decipher what he said exactly. It’s a tactic that he uses often now that he has discovered it. Then they go to do what he says, a bit down that their roughhousing has been cut short.
Besides him Steve leans in and whispers: “You’re hot when you do that.”
Eddie smirks and leans against Steve as he replies: “Aim to please, darlin’,” indulging in Steve’s blush.
God, just a year ago, he couldn’t have imagined that he would be where he is now. He has graduated high school, has an amazing boyfriend and is loud and proud about who he is on all fronts. Though maybe not completely loud on the whole boyfriend thing, but they’re not exactly keeping it totally just friends even in public places.
So, yeah, let it be known that Eddie Munson doesn’t conform. He doesn’t care and will make sure that it’s everyone’s problem in the way he carries himself, in how loud he is. Eddie Munson is a southern homosexual and he won’t be changed.
~~
A/N:
This whole fic just comes from the fact that I think it would be hilarious if metalhead, rocker Eddie Munson sounded like every country singer out there. And like so many of my fics that snowballed :D
((I’m really bad at writing accents, but I tried very hard, so lets just ignore that for now))
Also I’d love to hear y’alls southern!Eddie headcanons, bc I’m not from the south myself (not even from the Americas as continents), so if actual southern people have input that’d be lit!
#rr writing#tw: bullying mention#tw: homophobia mention#steddie#eddie lives au#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson#uncle wayne#southern eddie munson#stranger things fic#st fic#stranger things#st#eddie lives
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I saw you and I knew.
Biker!Bucky x Reader AU
Run-through: You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to.
Themes: smut, fluff,
a/n: remember this Bucky? Yeah, me too.
The moment you stepped into the bar, you felt all eyes on you.
Not in a bad way, more like in an intrigued way.
A couple of steps in and you realized why; there was no one but bikers in this club. Large, built, mean looking men. But judging by the sound of laughter and the bouncers scattered around the room, you felt oddly safe in the environment.
You went up to the counter and ordered yourself a drink. Once you found a seat in the less crowded area of the bar, you settled in next to the large window pane; looking out at the passing cars while sipping on your drink. The sun would set soon so the sky was all pink, and-
You felt a tap on your shoulder. “This seat taken?” A male voice spoke up behind you.
You placed your bottle down and turned to face him. You were aware that you did stare at him for a while. How could you not? Dark, slightly long hair, worn out leather jacket, and tattoos… a lot of them, peeking through his collar and around his wrists. And a perfect face. He gave you a slight smirk when he noticed that you were checking him out but you soon recovered, your heart racing.
“No, it’s not.” You gestured to the seat across from you, which he then walked over to.
You watched him, how he moved so confidently. You kept watching as he placed his own beer down, and took his leather jacket off to reveal a loose, ripped t-shirt underneath, as well as his muscular arms; one of them metal and glistening in the dimmed lights of the bar. He folded the jacket carelessly into a ball and placed it down on the table before taking a seat in front of you, leaning back and placing his muscular, tattooed arm over the seat of the booth. You noticed his pierced ears then.
It almost felt like a strip show. He had barely said enough to you and you were already feeling a little hot, with him staring at you.
“I’ve never seen you around here before.” He said, and something about his ease, and the softness of his tone, despite his rather mean and dangerous appearance, chased away the little bit of awkwardness which was forming in between you too. It soon vanished.
You licked your lips and answered, “It’s my first time here actually.” You gave him a polite smile which he returned, giving you the same look that everyone gave you for the first nanoseconds you walked in - an intrigued look.
He leaned forward, and gently toyed with your car keys laying on the table top. You got a whiff of his scent. You expected him to smell like cigarettes but he smelt like some fading, strong and expensive cologne. Very manly. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, Princess?”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him slightly, not minding the nickname. “How’d you know?”
He chuckled, and the sound echoed in your head. He sounded so boyish when he laughed, it warmed your heart for some reasons. Something about him screamed trouble, and recklessness and danger.
“You drive a Benz which no one here does, you’re drinking a martini while everyone is having cheap beers and you’re dressed like a classy lady in a place filled with leather and chains. So tell me, am I right?” He pointed out, his tone cocky and confident like one would expect.
You leaned back into your seat as well. “You’re judging me.” You pointed out. Funny, you thought you were somewhat blending in here with your little black dress - but clearly not.
He laughed again, making you crack a little smile. “Princess, look around. You don’t belong here. So tell me, what’s your story? How did you end up in a place like this?”
You sighed. “I was just… driving around, and I ran out of fuel not far from here. So I called for my chauffeur and didn’t want to wait by the side of the road until he arrived so I figured I could get a drink while waiting.”
He looked you dead in the eyes while you talked. Nodding at each bit of information. “I meant your real story, Princess. You drove a long way, why? I see it in your eyes. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
He was reading you like you were his favorite book. And you found that quite… interesting because no one was ever able to do that normally. It felt intimate.
“And why should I tell you?”
“Because you want to. You need a friend, and I’m not half bad, am I?” Cocky, as expected.
You chuckled. “You won’t get it.”
He raised an eyebrow. A warning. “What is it? Your conservative and rich father won’t give you your pocket money in thousands this month?”
Despite the words, he managed to get yet another laugh out of you. “I earn my own money, thank you.”
“I’ll believe you. Then what is it? Your snobbish, rich playboy boyfriend is acting up?”
And yet another chuckle left your lips. “You seem to have issues with people who are well-off.”
He smirked. “Trust me, I don’t. I just want to figure you out.”
“Why?”
“Because your eyes are telling me that you’re sad. And that you’ve been contained for too long. You want to be freed. Am I wrong?”
Your lips parted at the accuracy of his words. “No, you’re not.” You lowered your eyes to the table, but he was quick to reach out with his metal arm and grab you gently by the chin. He tilted your head just enough so you could look at him.
“What is it, angel?” He asked softly.
“I… I don’t want to go home.” You whispered, your voice tired and low.
“Okay. Parents?” He spoke like he could relate.
You nodded and he gently let go of your face. “Parents.” You confirmed. “They want me to marry one of their friend’s son because according to them it’ll be good for the both of us. And you know, for each of the families’ businesses.”
He frowned. “You don’t like him, I assume.”
You sighed. “I don’t know him. He’s a good man according to my mother, who also hasn’t seen him since we were kids. Apparently I met him once or twice but I was too young back then to remember…” you sighed again, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, picking up your glass and taking yet another sip. “ Whoever he is, I can’t say no.”
He scoffed. “Yes you can.”
You chuckled, dryly. “You don’t understand. My dad will make my life a living hell if-,”
“Who cares what he thinks? He married the one he loved, didn’t he? Then why not let you find love on your own as well?” He did make sense.
You smiled sadly, thinking of your parents and their marriage. “I don’t think so.”
He stopped midway through picking his beer bottle up. “What?” he asked, then went back to picking it up again, bringing it to his pink lips.
“My dad. I don’t think he married out of love.” You let out a quiet scoff, “I don’t think my mom did either. They just realized that that would be the best for the both of them, I suppose. Now that I think about it, I don’t think they ever truly loved each other at any point.” You tilted your head while looking out at the passing cars out the window. “Mom always told me that marriage isn’t always about love, it’s about convenience.”
He let out a shameless chuckle. “I’m sorry, but what a bunch of bullshit! You believe her?” He asked in disbelief.
“It’s all I’ve ever been told all my life. Besides, I don’t have much of a choice anymore, might as well.”
He frowned at you, setting his bottle down to give you his full attention. “Come on, Princess. You can’t be serious. You can’t give up on love just because your parents did.”
That earned him a smile from you. “You sound like you know a lot about love.” You leaned forward, placing your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your fist. “It’s your turn, tell me, who has you under their unescapable love spell?” It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him. Almost felt like you had known him all your life.
He laughed again, that same boyish look on his face. “Nah, none of that. But I do know what it’s like to be contained, and I also know what it’s like to be finally free, with no worries about family pressure or expectations and let me tell you, Princess, it’s the best feeling in the world.”
That sounded exquisite. It sounded like… like everything you wanted right there and then. To not bother about what mom and dad might think and live for yourself for however long you wanted to.
“And what gives you that freedom? Riding down the highway at full speed on your mean bike?” You sassed.
You watched how his eyes lit up. “You’re right. And that’s exactly what you need, Princess. Come on, let’s go!”
Before you could process anything, he grabbed your hand and stood up. All you could do was quickly grab your purse and keys and you went along with him. You only realized what you were doing once you stepped outside.
“Wait! I- I…” You were stumbling over your words. A million thoughts rushing through your head all at once. And the piercing pair of blue eyes staring deep into yours weren’t helping at all.
He walked up to you. “It’s your life. They can’t tell you how to live it. You have every right to find love on your own, and if you don’t want to marry what’s his face then don’t. Parent or not, they can’t do that to you. Come on, let’s go before some old, broody chauffeur gets here.”
He tugged on your arm gently, walking towards the many bikes which were parked outside the bar.
“But, I- I’m supposed to leave tomorrow, to see the guy. I’m… I can’t just disappear. Where are we even going? I just met you and I- I don’t even know your name. Besides, you had alcohol. You can’t-,”
“Apple juice.” He stopped, and turned around to look at you. He repeated, “Apple juice. Don’t tell anyone.”
You looked at him like he was speaking another language. “What?”
“The bartender is a cool guy, I told him I don’t consume alcohol when I ride so he poured apple juice in beer bottles for me so that I can mingle with the crowd but also get home safe.” He explained.
You giggled uncontrollably at his answer and he lowered his blushing face. “That was funny, but I don’t believe you at all, I-,” you cut yourself off as you laughed; quite unladylike.
Without another word said, he circled his arm around you and pulled you into him, and his lips were on yours in less than a second. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly. Still gentle, but passionately. He held you by the neck with his metal hand and you melted in his embrace. You kissed him back and you heard a little moan escape his lips - sending shivers down your spine and making your heart flutter, and other places throb. He teased you by biting down on your lip, making you gasp as his tongue soothed it right after. He pulled you closer, pressing you against him even more, kissing you deeper if that was possible.
Your hands found themselves around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair. He chuckled against your lips once he noticed that you were getting a little breathless. “Now tell me. What do I taste like, Princess?” He whispered against your lips, his voice sending shivers throughout your body.
Your face felt really hot at his question and only then did you realize that he did in fact taste tangy, and sweet. “Apple.”
He smiled against your lips before kissing you deeply again. “Told you. Now come on, trust me and let’s go. You can go home later tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll drop you wherever you wanna go. But right now, come with me.”
Fuck it.
“Yes.” You agreed. He gave you a big smile and tugged you along once again. You spoke up again. “And if you plan on killing me, just make it quick. Please. And don’t do weird things to me after I’m dead. Definitely do not feed me to animals, or humans for that matter. And don’t-”
He cut you off with another kiss once you reached his bike. “Shh.” He laughed. “I won’t do any of that. Now come on, put these on.” He handed you his jacket from earlier and a helmet.
You put those on quickly, not giving yourself the chance to overthink and prevent yourself from living a little. Once you climbed onto his bike, you realized that you would be pressed up against his back quite a bit. You didn’t mind it, it just made your heart race a little. His leather jacket felt nice and cool against your skin.
“Hold on tight, Princess. It won’t be that long of a ride. But it’ll be great, trust me.”
You nodded, and he chuckled at how adorable you looked with his huge, black helmet on. “Don’t kill us.”
“I won’t, angel.”
He kicked the engine to life. It roared so loudly that you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rush already. You giggled as he drove off, away from the pub, away from where you had left your car, away from where your chauffeur was supposed to pick you up. Away.
You felt the wind against your bare legs and parts of your face. Cold, rushing - making you forget. You wrapped your arms tight around his waist and tipped your head a little, looking up at the saturated, pink sky, the stars had started showing faintly and suddenly you realized how much of your life you had missed while chasing the dreams your parents had assigned you to chase.
Your friends would often talk of reckless nights back in university, but you never got to experience those because you were always busy studying to make sure your parents remained proud of you.
But you were now. You were on a mean bike with a drop dead gorgeous man, riding down the highway while the sun set in the background. You felt alive. Slowly, you loosened your arms from around his waist, lifting them away from his body. You lifted your arms upwards, feeling your hands tear through the icy winds and you let out a genuine laugh.
You noticed he slowed down a little when you did so. You let your arms up for some more time before you lowered them and wrapped them around his waist again. You inched closer and pressed your chest to his back, feeling his warmth seep through the many layers of clothing.
“Thank you.” You whispered close to his ear. You knew he heard you even if he didn’t respond right away.
“Wanna see the sunset better?” he asked, barely a second later.
“Yes, please!”
About ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of what seemed like a motel. You got off the bike once he came to a stop and he did too. He helped you take the helmet off and immediately grabbed your hand and ran towards the motel.
You followed, giggling like a kid. “Where are we going?”
“The roof. Come on, quick.”
He answered and led both of you to what seemed to be some sort of fire escape. You climbed the metal stairs as fast as you could, not more than a few steps behind him until you reached the roof. It was filled with empty cans, cigarette butts and what not but it also gave you a view to die for.
The sky had turned orangish by now, the sun was halfway down the horizon and you were mesmerized. You couldn’t look away. The sky darkened with each second, and you felt too much at the same time. You wanted to run. And never come back. You wanted bike rides everyday. You wanted to take the time and admire each sunset like this. You wanted to not worry about anything for a while.
You felt strong arms wrap around you from behind. Then he placed his chin on your shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry, angel.” Only then did you realize that you had a tear slowly falling down your cheek.
You wiped it away and kept staring at the sky, watched it change colors. Your racing heart calmed down and a certain body heat wrapped around you, comforting you better than any blanket ever could.
You turned in his arms, facing him once the sky turned a darker shade of blue when the sun had set completely. Another tear escaped your eye. He caught this one before it fell down your cheek. He looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes. It almost made your heart hurt.
“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want any of it.” You whispered, keeping your eyes on his neck, admiring his tattoos through your teary eyes. You couldn’t tell what they were just yet, but they looked incredible on his tan skin.
“Then don’t.” He answered, easily. “Don’t go home right away. Don’t marry him if you don’t want to. Stay.” He whispered the last bit, his metal arm reaching up to cup your face. “You might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You giggled through the tears. “So this is where you bring all the girls?” You asked, your tone much more playful and teasing.
He shook his head, laughing quietly. “I don’t. I don’t even live in this town. I have a family thing I need to attend in a day or two, so I was just passing by. I got a room for a couple of nights and boom, now here we are.”
You nodded slowly. “Here we are.” You whispered back, your eyes flicking down to his lips a couple of times before looking back up into his eyes.
He gave you a faint smile before leaning in for a kiss again, sighing once his lips touched yours like he had been craving it. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him back. He kissed you recklessly, tugging and biting your lip, allowing his hands to slide up and down your side and he tilted your head to the side, stroking deeper into your mouth with his tongue.
“Let’s go.” He murmured against your lips before kissing them again.
“Where?”
“Downstairs.” He kissed along your jaw until his mouth reached your ear. He gave you a kiss and you visibly trembled in his arms. “It’s my turn to see what you taste like.” He whispered, blunt and hot.
Your face felt really hot, again. And when he pulled away, he had a handsome smirk on his pretty face. You got over the shyness and leaned in to kiss him again, aggressively. He chuckled into your mouth and pulled away before tugging you along as he took the stairs again, leading the two of you downstairs.
The night was properly dark by the time you got to the front of the motel, both of you unable to keep your hands off each other, stopping multiple times to push one another against the wall and make out like there’s no tomorrow.
There were not many people in sight. You could hear murmurs of muffled conversations coming from the restaurant which was attached to the motel, and a group of bikers were having a chat and smoking out in the parking lot but that was all.
He led you to his room, unlocked the door and pulled you inside, both of you giggling and moaning as you kissed like horny teenagers.
He pulled away again, “Oh and, my name’s Bucky. Remember that when you’re moaning later.” He whispered breathlessly against your lips as he slammed the door shut behind the two of you and wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you closer as though he needed you like he needed air.
“I’m Y/N. You remember that too.” You moaned into the kiss and shrugged his leather jacket off as quickly as possible, eager to feel his skin on yours. You helped him take his shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. You briefly let your hands roam around his torso, feeling each indent and firm muscle, your heart racing with each inch of skin you explored.
He unzipped your dress while walking the two of you backwards, and by the time you made it to the queen sized bed you were both left in just your underwear.
Bucky pushed you down on the bed, it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. He was on top of you not even a second later. You whined when he moved to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind. You wrapped your legs around him, moving your hips against him slowly, grinding on him out of desperation and he chuckled against your skin. “Eager, are we?” he whispered and peppered your neck with soft kisses.
You moaned when his hands reached up to wrap around your breasts, fondling and teasing you through the lacy bra. He moaned against your skin as your fingers slid through his hair and tugged at his roots.
“Bucky…” You dragged his name out, squirming under him as he took his sweet time kissing down your body.
“Hmm?” He acted oblivious as he took your underwear off and tossed them on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs properly. His handsome, perfect face just inches away from your dripping core.
You whined. “I want you, please…”
He chuckled, kissing your inner thighs. “I know, angel. I know.” His warm breath fanned your sensitive skin as he spoke, and he noticed the way the goosebumps erupted all over your skin. He looked up at you for a quick second, scanning your face.
You held your upper body up on your elbows by now, looking down at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth. He sent you a shameless wink before leaning in and kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. He teased your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than earlier.
A pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “You taste better than I imagined…” Bucky chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure.
He grinned to himself, glad that he was the one bringing you such pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your wet folds, making you whine as he tasted you. His touch was slow, pleasurably agonizing. “Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging.
“Oh?” He taunted. “But I’m not quite done, so don’t you come yet angel.” He whispered against your wet skin. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you, one drop at a time. But Bucky didn’t let none of it go to waste, he leaned in and latched his mouth onto your core, sucking and licking and teasing you. Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, but he didn’t mind it one bit.
He watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. He had you coming undone all over his mouth in no time.
“That’s a good girl… cum for me, Princess.”
You were gasping for air in no time, your body squirming under his. Bucky kissed his way up your body again. He gave you a brief kiss on the lips then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his underwear and grab a condom from the drawer and put it on. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again.
Bucky’s body settled in between your legs comfortably again, and he leaned in to kiss you on the nose and then down to your lips. You smiled through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You could feel his thick and hard cock resting against your thighs. He touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went.
You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around. He stared into your eyes, his face still dangerously close to yours. “You okay, angel?” he asked. His voice strained and deep, gravelly with lust.
“Yes… please, I need you.” You whispered against his mouth. You were burning up under him.
Bucky pushed his tongue into past your lips while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You immediately lifted your legs up to wrap them around his waist like earlier. You moaned quietly as he pushed into you. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and gave you a couple of seconds to adjust. He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down on the bed, above your head.
He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to keep quiet. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. “It’s okay, angel. Let me hear you.” He whispered, groaning by the end and let go of your hands to hold your body.
He gripped your waist and pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed you, bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained.
Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you, and in the daze he was in, he mumbled right in your ear about how good you felt. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine.
Never in a million years did you ever think that you would find yourself in a motel room, having mind blowing sex with a hottie you met about an hour ago, but here you were. And you loved each moment. Your back arched off the bed as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from making any loud noises while he fucked you. He was relentless. And you loved it.
“Cum for me, angel. Come all over my cock…”
Your moans got louder as your walls clenched violently around him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure washed over you. You gasped, trying to calm your racing heart but he wasn’t done with you yet. Bucky flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck.
“More.” He growled against your skin and pushed your face down against the pillows, making your ass stick out for him. He gripped each side of your hips, tightly. He pushed his cock into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up again; your butt cheeks pressing into his pelvic bone as he pounded into you.
You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you.
You felt him quicken his pace. “Fuck…” he moaned.
You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you could barely hold back anymore. His other hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again.
“Bucky… please,” You moaned, craving more and more of him.
With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded. You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling and mumbling swear words under his breath.
His soft kisses are the last thing you remember feeling before you snuggled up to his warm body under the sheets and drifted off to sleep without a single care in the world for the first time in a long time.
---
You laid your head on his bare chest, a thin white sheet barely covering either of you properly. The sun was coming up and you could tell that your phone would be blowing up by now if you hadn’t turned it off the night before. You quickly chased those thoughts away, you didn’t want to think about anyone this morning.
Just Bucky.
You lifted your head up slowly so as not to disturb him but when you looked up you found him staring down at you with a soft smile on his face. “Hi.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and strained.
He chuckled, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Hey angel. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He asked, concern written all over his face for a moment.
You shook your head. “I’m okay.” You lowered your head again, placing your ear right on top of his heart. You let out a sigh. You knew you wouldn’t be able to escape your family forever and your father will track you down and you would have to explain yourself, possibly even marry whoever they ask you to but this right now, last night and this morning - you would cherish that forever.
You lazily ran your fingers up and down Bucky’s tattooed arm wishing for a different reality, while he played with your hair. You gently traced the lines and curves of ink on his skin, some were hard to decipher because they overlapped with the others. Some words you could make out, some you couldn’t. A few of the discreet, smaller tattoos looked like he had done them himself, and their messiness made you giggle. Like the poorly done smiley face on the inside of his wrist, and the fading initials next to them: j.b.b.
You froze. Hang on…
“Bucky?” You felt like you would explode with the amount of emotions and thoughts which rushed inside your head.
“Yes Princess?” You could hear the sleep in his voice.
“What’s your last name?” You asked, anticipation building inside of you and almost choking you. It couldn’t be… could it?
“Barnes. Why?” He answered, looking down at you with confusion all over his face meanwhile you looked like you had seen a ghost.
You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Let me guess, your real name is James. And your father has a very close friend and fellow businessman named Y/L/N?”
He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Yes. How did you-,”
You got up and straddled him, pinning him down under you. He didn’t mind the nudity, quite the contrary actually. “Bucky! You’re the guy I’m supposed to marry! You’re James Buchanan Barnes!” You went on to tell him your full name and you watched how the realization hit him just as hard as it hit you.
“Oh…” His smirk faded for a moment as he processed what you had just said, before it formed again. “Well in that case…” He flipped the two of you around and pinned you down under him just like he had last night. “It’s nice to finally meet you, future wife.” He leaned in for another kiss.
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Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•
:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!
MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-
Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.
All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-
…
What peculiar eyes this human had…
Oh… oh dear…
Dad-volo
The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.
“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”
After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.
Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.
MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!
“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”
Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”
“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.
Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.
Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.
Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.
They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.
This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.
Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…
Tired Uncle Lucifer
No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.
He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!
He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.
When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.
“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”
The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.
It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.
What the fuck.jpg
The things he does for his prince boyfriend…
Cool Uncle Mammon
Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.
Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!
And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!
It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…
Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.
And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)
Reclusive Uncle Leviathan
Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.
And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!
… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…
Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.
Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.
Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.
Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.
Cat Uncle Satan
Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.
Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…
But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.
His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.
Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.
Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)
And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.
Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo
…wut
Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.
This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]
Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!
But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!
Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.
The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3
Hungry Uncle Beel
Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.
So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?
Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…
The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.
Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-
Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.
Beel finds that very sweet 🥺
Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie
Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…
When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.
Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.
…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.
After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒
But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.
Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua
:0 friend!
MC: *speaks*
>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*
#obey me#obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date#obey me mc#Obey me Headcanons#obey me! headcanons#obey me Diavolo#Obey me Lucifer#Obey me Mammon#Obey me Leviathan#Obey me Satan#Obey me Asmodeus#Obey me Beelzebub#Obey me Belphegor
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The Fraction of Innocence.
**Gif Not Mine**
Anon Requested: 10, 16, and 25 for the smutty prompts thing!!!
10: “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you donna do about it?’
16: “the only way you are gonna get off is on my thigh.”
25: “she may be all lollipops and candy bars, but I bet behind closed doors she’s hand cuffs and gags.”
Pairings: SpencerXReader
Rating: M, (This is very explicit.)
Words: 4K
Warnings: NSFW!!! 18+ (Dom!Spencer, BDSM overtones, sexual conduct, fingering, bondage, etc.)
Request: OPEN/CLOSED
Summary: Spencer thinks Y/N is an innocent, naive girl until a case reveals her extracurricular activities.
Spencer had been back from jail for 2 months when he first met her.
At first he didn’t think anything of her, other than the faint smell of vanilla and daisy as she walked past him in the bullpen and the bright smile that seemed to take up half her face. She was carrying files close to her chest like a schoolgirl late to class and the skirt of her white dress bellowed softly behind her as she made her way to Emily’s office.
“Who is that?” He had asked.
Luke looked up to where Spencer’s gaze was. “Oh, that’s Y/N, she's a tech analyst helping Penelope out right now. She’s sweet, you’ll like her.”
It doesn’t take Spencer long after that to decide he, in fact, does not like you. There was nothing wrong with you. Luke was right, you were sweet, almost sickeningly so. It was like you had no concept of reality. You lived in this world of all sunshine and good things despite the horror that crossed your screen daily. And while Penelope was the same, she at the very least knew how bad the world could be and chose to see the good in it. You didn’t, it was like you’d never had a single bad thing happen to you. And Spencer, who had been dealt the bad hand so many times in life hated that.
It also didn’t help that you were gorgeous too. You looked like an artist sculpted you himself to make the perfect woman. Real People weren’t supposed to look like that. Real people were supposed to have flaws and blisters. Real people were supposed to look tired so early in the morning not fully awake and smiling while handing everyone in the office a coffee. He didn’t understand how you could be real.
“Here you go, Spencer. Americano lots of sugar.” You said, placing the coffee on his desk.
“Thank you.” He mumbles.
“We have a case, by the way.” You giggle, going off to hand Luke his coffee before walking away to the conference room. Spencer was barely able to keep his eye roll at bay.
Luke sees that and laughs, clapping Spencer on the back. “Come on, kid. Play nice.”
“She’s giggling about a murder case.” Spencer grumbles before following him into the conference room.
“3 women have been murdered in Queens. Judging by the scars, they were all bound and strangled before finally being dumped in an alley.” Garcia says, as she goes through the slides, showing the crime scenes. “Police need our help finding the connection between these three women because right now, it looks like there is none.”
“I’d say.” Tara speaks up. “We have a waitress/student, a doctor, and a paralegal. All living in different areas of the city with virtually no reason to interact.”
Spencer looks down at his file, examining the picture when he notices something. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you clear your throat.
“Umm, Emily?” You say from your seat right across from Spencer. Emily looks up inquisitively at you. “I think I know what connects them.”
“What’s that, Y/N?” Emily asks, raising a brow at her.
You clear your throat again. “Victim #2, Rebecca Belfront, has a Padlock collar necklace on in her second picture. That’s typically used to indicate she’s a submissive with a committed dominant partner. But she wasn’t wearing it when her body was found which makes me think that that relationship recently ended. That made me look at the marks on their arms. While there are some new ones from the murders, they all have faded marks around the wrist and body as well. Leads me to believe the bounding was er-... consensual. We should probably look into New York’s BDSM scene.” You close, smiling awkwardly.
Spencer looks at you in shock. He, of course, had come to the same conclusion you did and had been about to say that but he, at least, knew why he knew that. Why did you know that?
Emily hummed thoughtfully. “It’s worth looking into. Do you mind coming to NY with us? Your insight might be needed.”
You look kind of shocked at that but nod. “Of course, whatever I can do to help.” You say, softly.
“Great, Wheels up in 30.” She says, getting up, effectively ending the meet. Spencer watches you speed after her, files in hand to ask some more questions. Spencer’s walking back to his desk when Luke catches up with him.
“Y/N has a dark side. Who knew?” He says, smirking.
“Probably not.” Spencer muses. “She could’ve just known that. I mean, I just know stuff sometimes too.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Her body language gave her away. She was flushing and stuttering sure, but she was confident in what she was saying. Almost as if, she was speaking from experience.” Luke laughs. “She may be all lollipops and candy bars here, but I bet behind closed doors, she’s handcuffs and gags.”
Spencer hums. “Maybe.” He says looking up to watch you walk back across the catwalk from Prentiss’ office. Luke was right though, your body language did give you completely away that you were talking from experience. Spencer couldn’t help but wonder just how much.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
When you arrive in New York, You head straight from the jet to the Police Station in Queens. You fiddle with your thumbs a bit, you are nervous.
“You ok?” Spencer says, from his spot in front of the bulletin board he was setting up. You were supposed to be helping him but you knew Spencer was particular about some things so you let him do it. In fact, there were a lot of things you’d let Spencer do. With you, to you, you weren’t picky. The man was gorgeous enough to make you nervous. With his lean muscles, long, fluffy hair, and large hands, he looked like something that walked right out of a wet dream of yours. Which sometimes, he was just that. You weren’t stupid though, you knew Spencer didn’t think of you that way. In fact, you didn’t think Spencer thought of you in any way. He seemed to ignore you anyway he could.
You look up from your laptop. “Oh yea, I’m fine. I’m just...nervous. I’ve never been in the field.”
“Chances are you won’t be, Emily will probably keep you in the Station if she can help it.” Spencer provides.
“I know, it’s just-- you know what I mean.” You say, Spencer nods before returning to the bulletin board. You stand to look at the map with him. “So, from what I was able to find there’s only 3 BDSM clubs in Queens but there’s only one in the middle of where the three women were found. Place called Cat’s Cradle.”
Spencer hums. “How complicated and unpredictable the machinery of life really is.” You look up at the man, recognizing the quote.
“There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look.” You say back, shrugging.
“You read Vonnegut?” He asks.
“You said that like you’re more surprised that I can read than what I read being Vonnegut.” You say, Spencer shrugs not even denying it. God, he was such a dick sometimes. A hot dick, but a dick nonetheless.
The two of you turn when you hear a knock at the door to see the lead detective coming in to check on you guys. “Just wanted to see how things were coming along. Also see if you guys needed anything?” Though he only directed the question at you with a sly smirk on his face. Men were so obvious sometimes.
“Nope, we’re fine.” You smile although you didn’t want to. “We’ve narrowed down to a couple BDSM clubs so hopefully we’ll catch our guy soon.”
“Wait, you think these girls were…” He trails off. You nod, knowing what he was thinking. “Well, it probably serves them right.”
“Excuse me?” You say.
“Listen, I know what kind of girls go into those kinds of clubs. If they want to be sexual deviants, they can’t be surprised when shit like this happens to them.” He gestures to the board.
“Actually more women are into Dominant/Submissive as well as BDSM relationships than you would think, statistically 85%.” Spencer cuts him off. “These clubs are just commonplace for them to meet like minded people just like you would do in any other club and they should be put on trial after their deaths for trusting the wrong person. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to work, Detective.” He says, turning back towards the board. The man nods and leaves shortly after that.
“Thank you.” You say, softly.
“What for?” Spencer asks.
“Come on, I work with profilers and I’m not stupid. I know you guys know about me so thank you for defending me just now.”
“I wasn’t defending you.” Spencer says. “He was making inappropriate comments about victims and we don’t need that outdated way of thinking working on this case. Besides…” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to your eyes. “You’re not the only one with… unconventional extracurriculars.” He turns and walks out after that leaving you watching after him.
What?
------------------------------------------------------------------
After delivering the profile, you find the Unsub, a man named Ivan Parke. The only thing left to do was find the best way to snuff him out. When the team is discussing the next best course of action. It’s then Luke comes up with the idea.
“We should send Y/N undercover.” He says. “She knows the profile and knows the most about the scene.”
Emily nods. “Is that something you’re comfortable with, Y/N.”
You look up. “Oh, um yea. I’d have to find a different outfit but you have to send someone with me.” You say, everyone looks at you confused so you sigh and explain yourself. “If you send me into a club like this, in a foreign place with no Dom, the Unsub isn’t going to be my only worry. Someone’s going to have to play my dominant.”
“I’ll do it.” Spencer speaks up. Your eyes widened, you were not expecting Spencer to agree to it, you assumed you’d be stuck with Luke. Now you’re going to have to spend the night with the man you’d been crushing on since you started working with the BAU as his submissive. Like that wasn’t a dream come true.
“Great.” Emily says, dismissing everyone and handing you an expense credit card for an outfit. You take it and leave immediately, ignoring the sly look Spencer gives you.
You ended with a short, low-cut black leather dress with tank-like sleeves that showed off your curves and left very little to the imagination. As well as a clear pair of platform heels. You pulled your hair back into a sleek ponytail and you topped the look with your own personal leather choker with a large circle knob in the center. It was one of your favorite pieces to wear though you never really got a chance to wear it unless you were going to clubs, which you didn’t do as often these days. It was an expensive piece sure, but so worth it when you got to wear it. You were doing your makeup a little darker then you usually do in the bathroom when Spencer comes in.
“Is this how you typically look on the weekends?” He asks, standing behind you in the mirror. You look up to look him in the eyes through it.
“If I have the time.” You shrug.
“It’s very different. You’re very different from how I thought you were.”
“And how did you think I was, Spencer?”
“Naive...innocent.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed anything about me.” You say, turning towards the man.
“Maybe you’re right… That’s an expensive piece.” He points out pointing to your choker. “Emily’s going to have fun explaining that at the next budgetary hearing.”
“I didn’t buy it today.” You explain. “It’s mine.”
Spencer hums for a moment before lifting his hand to turn your jaw, examining the piece. You can’t help the way your breath hitches at the contact. Spencer was already so close to you and now he was touching you, it was already starting to be too much. Soon, Spencer is hooking two fingers into the circle knob of your choker and he yanks it. Involuntarily, a whimper falls from your lips, prompting a smirk from the man across from you.
“Tonight’s going to be fun.” He says before leaving you in the bathroom in a state of shock.
--------------------------------------------------------
After getting your comms set up by Luke, who tried to avert his eyes from your frame as much as possible, you and Spencer walk into the Cat’s Cradle. Typically you didn’t like the club scene, but you sometimes liked to venture out when looking for a new partner. Cat’s Cradle was definitely different than the other places you had been. Sure it still had the private rooms and the main stage where a scene was happening in front of you but it was a lot more laid back than the ones you went to in DC. Spencer was really enjoying his role too. Probably hamming it up too much because he knew there was a part of you that actually wanted him to. In the end, finding Ivan Parke was easy. He took the bait almost instantly and you were arresting him just as fast.
“Great work tonight guys.” Emily says, when you reach the hotel lobby. “Jet’s leaving at 7AM so make sure to get some rest.” She says, dismissing you.
Now begged a tricky situation because you had almost forgotten you and Spencer were rooming together. As you walked back to the room together the air was thick but both of you were silent. The tension had been building between the two of you since he yanked your choker in the station bathroom. You knew it was a matter of time. The dam had to break.
“You can shower first.” Spencer says. You nod, taking off your choker and grabbing clothes before taking solace in the bathroom. You wanted Spencer and you knew you needed to expedite this. After a much needed shower, you change into your pajama shorts and tank combo. Spencer steps into the shower almost as soon as you leave it. It’s then that you think of the perfect plan. You lay on the bed and spread your legs before slipping a hand down your shorts. You tease yourself at first, rubbing your clit through your underwear while you thought about the events of the night. How Spencer had been so authoritative. How his hand slid to the small of your back and sometimes ghosted your ass as the two of you walked around the club. How he had been so close in the bathroom. The way he yanked you closer. A small moan escaped you as you slid your hand in your underwear. Soon you hear the bathroom door open. Spencer stops short, watching you before leaning on the frame.
“Were you just touching yourself?”
“Yes.” You answer. “Are you gonna to do something about it?”
“Should I? Instead of telling me what you want you decide to act like a brat and do this.”
Spencer moves closer to the bed but doesn’t do anything, just continues to watch you so you decide to give him a show. Moaning loudly as you slide a digit inside of you. Spencer looks at you with hooded eyes. You can’t help the small laugh that leaves you.
“I think you’re going to give me what I want.” You say, smirking.
“And why’s that?” He says.
“You’re already weak.” You say.
“I’m weak, pretty girl?” He asks, incredulously. Before you know it, he’s ripping your hand out of your pants and crowding in the space between your legs forcing you to sit up and look at him. “You’re in here touching yourself to the thought of me like a horny teenager and I’m the one who’s weak? Ok.” He sits back and pulls you by your hips to sit on top of his lap, your legs straddling one of his thighs. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh, ok?” He tells you, starting to move your hips. You moan, nodding your head as the friction makes its way through your core. Spencer lifts your shirt off you and smirks when his eyes land on your bare breast. He leans forward to catch your left nipple in his mouth. Your back arches as you grind harder against his thigh. Your hands fly up to start unbuttoning his shirt when he stops you.
“Did I say you could touch yet, princess?” He asks.
“N-No, sir.” You stutter.
“Then keep your hands to yourself.” He says, putting your hands back to your side. He does indulge you by taking his shirt off himself. But that doesn’t help you keep your hands to yourself. You saw the lean muscle and craved to mark it up with your nails. Your hands go up to touch him again but he stops you.
“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to tie you up, Princess. Just be good, baby.”
You were already close before but now with Spencer’s hands and mouth everywhere and constant friction on your sex it was damn near pushing you off the edge.
“I’m gonna come.” You tell him, he grips your hips tighter, lifting his leg slightly so he was only rubbing against your clit. That makes you moan out loudly.
“Go ahead, Princess. Cum for me.” He says, and that was all you needed to fall right over the edge. Your legs shake and convulse as Spencer grips your hips help you ride it out. Soon you come down panting and he’s kissing into your neck. He pulls back and grips your jaw.
“Still think I’m weak, Princess?” He asks.
You knew it was unwise. In fact, you tried to stop yourself before you did it but it was too late. You reared your hand back and slapped Spencer across the cheek. Not hard enough to be seen as anything malicious but sharp enough to throw him off, like he couldn’t believe you had done it.
“Yes I do.” You say looking him in the eyes after. Something like a switch went off because there was no other way to describe the look he gave you other than feral and fully primitive. He pushes you off him.
“Get on your hands and knees, now.” He says, menacingly. You scramble and run to get into the position. Once in, Spencer forces your knees further apart. He angrily takes his belt off his pants before fashioning them into a makeshift cuff and pulling your wrist so they’re tied behind your back, leaving you face down into the mattress. He slides your shorts and underwear off in one go. You yelp loudly when the first slap comes to your behind. When the second and third slap comes, you try to squeeze your legs together to get some form of friction but Spencer forces your knees further apart. You moan out when you feel a digit slide against your folds. You try to push back on it but Spencer holds your hips in place.
“P-Please.” you stutter.
“What do you want, Princess?” He says, sliding a second digit inside you making you cry out more.
“Please, fuck me, Spencer.” You say, and you really didn’t have to ask twice because almost as soon as you ask Spencer’s hands leave you to finish unbuckling his pants. There’s a brief moment of calm, so calm that you almost think Spencer wasn’t going to give you what you want but that calm is interrupted by Spencer slamming into, no warning. You scream out but that’s only rewarded with your head being shoved more into the mattress to muffle your cries. Spencer’s hands are pulling on your cuffs so he is almost impossibly deep inside you. You moans start to get louder and louder. Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you up so you’re both sitting up, your back against his chest. One of his hands slides to grip around your neck while the other is moving to circle your clit. The hand around your neck tilts your jaw back so you’re looking up at the man behind you.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Open your mouth, Princess.” He orders, which you do instantly sticking your tongue out. Spencer leans forward and spits into your waiting mouth before locking his mouth with yours. His hand squeezes your neck tighter as you moan into his mouth as he starts fucking you faster, his dick hitting your g-spot almost every thrust. It’s not long before you’re just babbling, not even able to string a coherent sentence together.
“You gonna come for me, Princess?” He asks. You nod, moaning loudly. At this point, you knew there was no way the person in the room next to you guys didn’t hear you. You could only hope that it wasn’t one of the team. “Go ahead for me, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” After that, it doesn’t take long before you’re falling over the edge, shaking all the while. Spencer fucks you through it before tightening his grip on your hips to bend you back forwards so your face is back on the mattress. He fucks you hard and fast before falling over the edge himself, moaning your name.
The two of you say nothing as he unties you. When he does, you instantly flop down on your back, breathing heavily. Spencer wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom. For a moment you think he’s just leaving you like this, that you were foolish to think Spencer cared anything about you but in that moment he comes back with a wet cloth and ointment. He says nothing as he wipes between your legs before tossing the towel aside. You watch him with a smirk on your face as he rubs the ointment on the red marks the red cuffs made on you.
He looks you in the eye. “What, Y/N?”
“What happened to Princess?” You say, Spencer just looks at you with a bored expression which only makes you smile more. “Now’s probably a good time for you to ask me to dinner.”
Spencer chuckles lightly at that. “You don’t want to go to dinner with me.”
“I’m almost positive I do. Why would you say that?” You ask.
Spencer looks you in the eyes at that moment. “I’m not-Y/N, I’m not like you.”
“Like me?”
“I’m not able to be cheery and smiley. I can’t float into rooms. I can’t be happy like you are, too much has happened to me. You deserve someone happy.”
“Spencer.” You say, looking him in the eyes. “You are not broken. You can be happy, it’s going to take time sure but I’m willing to be with you through that. If you want that.” You say.
Spencer nods. “Ok, Y/N.” he smiles.
“So….?”
He rolls his eyes at that. “What’re you doing next sunday?”
You smile, brightly. “Absolutely nothing.”
Perm. Taglist: @moonshinerbynight @crimeshowtrash
#spencer x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader smut#spencer reid x you#spencer x you#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#bau x reader#criminal minds smut#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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3. I have no idea if this time line would work, but MYX and XY get attached to each other, so when the time comes that MYX and XY need to leave Koi Tower, JGY helps them get married in secret and run away to Dongu. Anyways, a few years latter, JGY has a kid that needs to go and people in a removed location that owe him favors! Isn’t that a wonderful combination! A Jin(?) Rusong raised by Uncles Mo and Xue, or whatever they go by these days, would be very chaotic. Bonus: they start a relatively safe demonic cultivation sect, maybe with some guidance from the Nie (has NMJ never been killed by the Jin in this Au?), or more specifically, Huaisang. SL and XXC who got a happy ending decide to check out this no blood line sect (it looks slightly dubious, but surely can’t be to bad! Right?) A-Qing at least is enjoying her new friend -🟪🦋
Should Have Been Listening - ao3
“Let go of me.”
“I won’t,” Mo Xuanyu said, clutching Xue Yang’s arm. “I won’t, I won’t! You’re my only friend here!”
Xue Yang looked down at him in what he thought was mostly exasperation, but might have also been a little fondness – after all, if it’d been anyone else who’d grabbed him, he’d have stabbed them.
He still didn’t know why he didn’t stab Mo Xuanyu, too, but in all honesty, he wasn’t that interested in exploring it. He did what he wanted, and right now, he didn’t want to murder Mo Xuanyu.
Irritating as he sometimes was.
“Little brat,” he said. “I have important business to go do.”
“It’s not something that he ordered, though!”
“So what?” Xue Yang bristled. “I don’t just do what hetells me!”
“But that means he won’t cover for you, and that means you’ll get in trouble!” Mo Xuanyu argued. “How can I let you go all alone to get in trouble? You have to take me with you! What will you do without me? Who’ll keep you entertained and sneak sweets for you if not for me?”
Xue Yang’s lips twitched. Okay, maybe there was a reason he kept the brat around.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “This is something I’ve got to do – something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m going to kill a lot of people and get into a lot of trouble, more trouble than ever before. I’ll probably lose my life. How can I possibly take you with me?”
Mo Xuanyu scowled up at him. It was a very weak scowl – barely more than a pout. “You think that’s going to make me not want to come with you?”
Xue Yang’s eyebrows went up. “You cry at the sight of blood!”
“I cry at a lot of things!”
Xue Yang wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, Mo Xuanyu cried at a lot of things.
“Maybe if I come with you, it won’t be so bad!”
Yeeeeah, Xue Yang wasn’t going to count on that.
“Or maybe you don’t have to go…?”
“I have to go,” he explained. “If I don’t go, I can’t get revenge, and I have to have revenge.”
Mo Xuanyu blinked up at him.
“I don’t really understand, but okay,” he said, and tugged on his arm. “Let’s go together, then. I promise I won’t cry!”
-
He cried.
He cried a lot.
-
“Stop fucking crying.”
-
“Just – ugh. Listen. You’re ruining the mood.”
-
“If you can’t stop crying, go away. Now. Or I’ll stab you!”
-
“Okay, see, look, I just killed the leaders, see? Just the old men. Everyone else is just locked in their rooms. Once the sect leader comes back, I’ll kill him too, and that’ll be all. Okay? Everyone else lives. I promise. Now stop crying, okay?”
-
“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said when they got back. “I don’t want to know at all.”
“Good,” Xue Yang grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Enough people heard about the reason for what you did that opinions are mixed as to whether your actions were the Chang clan’s just rewards for their former misdeeds or if they were actually wrong,” Jin Guangyao said. He looked irritated. “But you still killed high-ranking members of a sect, and you left enough alive that they’re demanding your head on a platter. You’re going to need to run away.”
Mo Xuanyu hesitantly gestured as if he wished to speak.
“Yes, you can go with him. Now that my father is dead, no one cares where you are.”
Mo Xuanyu beamed.
“You’re just going to let us go?” Xue Yang asked suspiciously. “That seems unlike you. What’s in it for you?”
“Oh, I’m not just going to let you go. I’m going to give you money, too,” Jin Guangyao said. “And all you need to do for me is one little tiny favor –”
Pity that that was when Xue Yang stopped listening, too busy staring at Mo Xuanyu’s delighted face and counting all the way he was in for it now.
-
“I’ve always wanted to take care of a baby,” Mo Xuanyu said happily.
“Good for you,” Xue Yang said darkly as he stalked through the streets.
He would rather that Jin Guangyao had needed a body buried and a death covered up or something – and judging by the baby’s perturbed expression, it probably agreed with him. Fuck, maybe Jin Guangyao had meant for them to murder the baby once they got it far enough out of the way. It was just as plausible as Mo Xuanyu's assumption that they were supposed to take care of it.
Damnit, maybe he should have been listening.
“Listen, neither of us are equipped to handle a baby. Go find a woman to help us – someone poor and helpless who doesn’t have any other choice.”
“Okay!”
-
Xue Yang shut his eyes. “What exactly,” he said slowly, “did you think I asked you to get us a woman for, exactly?”
“To…watch the baby?” Mo Xuanyu guessed. “When we’re busy or sleeping? Anyway, what’s wrong with A-Qing, anyway? She’s nice!”
“I’m not nice,” A-Qing said. The damn brat was smirking – and for once it wasn’t his damn brat, but some blind brat with a cocky expression. “I stole your wallet and you burst into tears and it was really embarrassing.”
“He does that,” Xue Yang said wearily. At least he’d noticed the theft this time – all of his lessons in ‘how not to be a sucker and get constantly taken advantage of’ were maybe having something of an impact. Maybe. “For some reason I’m apparently into it.”
He couldn’t explain it any other way.
“…loser.”
“I will stab you,” Xue Yang threatened. “I don’t care if you’re blind.”
“Won’t someone tell me why A-Qing isn’t a perfectly good babysitter?” Mo Xuanyu demanded. He was holding the baby in his arms again – the baby liked him more than it did Xue Yang, which meant that between Mo Xuanyu and the baby, the baby had better self-preservation instincts – and he was trying his best stern scowl which was of course barely more than a pout and a so-called ‘fierce’ expression that made Xue Yang want to laugh.
Not even Mo Xuanyu’s horrific make-up skills could make thatface intimidating. Or maybe it was just that the person behind the face was just so completely unthreatening that there was no help for it?
“Well? Tell me!”
Xue Yan opened his mouth, then shrugged and shut it again.
A-Qing patted Mo Xuanyu on the shoulder. “I’m too young. No milk.”
“…milk?”
“You know. The thing babies eat?”
“…milk,” Mo Xuanyu repeated, only now he looked absolutely heartbroken at having failed the mission that Xue Yang had assigned him almost entirely just to get him out of the way while Xue Yang collected some spare cash and threatened their way onto a ride out of this piece of shit town.
“It’s fine,” Xue Yang said hastily. “We’ll just get a goat or something, I don’t know.”
“Okay, I actually only came here to laugh at you,” A-Qing said. “But now I’m legitimately worried about this baby. Don’t you two know anything? How’d you even get a baby, anyway?”
-
“Stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”
-
“Seriously. Stop laughing, or I stab you.”
“Don’t worry, A-Qing,” Mo Xuanyu said. “He doesn’t mean it! Threats are just how he expresses affection!”
“It most certainly is not.”
“That is absolutely amazing,” A-Qing said, wiping her eyes. “Best thing I’ve ever heard., if by best I mean worse-but-hilarious. I mean. If that’s what he considers affection, what must his flirting be like?”
“No one is flirting with anyone!”
-
“Are you going to leave at some point?”
“Obviously not,” A-Qing said. She’d caught the same ride as them, using Xue Yang’s cash no less – Mo Xuanyu had insisted that it was the least they could do after the whole milk misunderstanding, which was stupid, she ought to be paying them for wasting their time. Xue Yang couldn’t wait to get rid of her, although he had to admit that she’d been pretty useful in terms of putting on the ‘poor sad blind girl and her two brothers all alone in the world’ act to get them a room at the inn at prices even Xue Yang felt comfortable paying. “Are you joking? This is so much funnier than walking by myself. Anyway, I enjoy watching people crash and burn.”
“Aren’t you too young to be such a bitch?” Xue Yang hissed. “And, I don’t know, blind?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t care what you –”
The sound of crying came from the other room.
It was quickly followed by a second set of crying.
Xue Yang felt the onset of a headache.
“…truce?” A-Qing suggested sweetly, as if she knew exactly how much it pissed him off and thought it was the funniest thing ever, which was…probably accurate, actually. “I’ll get the baby to stop crying if you do the same with Mo Xuanyu.”
Yeah, that was definitely a headache. The sort of headache called why do I like that brat.
Mo Xuanyu owed him so much candy for putting up with this shit.
“Fine,” Xue Yang said begrudgingly. “Truce. Temporarily. And then you leave!”
-
“So we live here now, huh?” A-Qing said, looking around the house they’d claimed. “That’s neat.”
“Why do you live with us again?” Xue Yang asked her, though by now he barely even meant it. A-Qing was clearly another one in the same mold as Mo Xuanyu: you just couldn’t say no to her…or, rather, you could, at length and top volume and with threats, only it just didn’t stick. “I definitely did not recall asking you to stay.”
Though it was nice to have someone else around that wasn’t going to get immediately ripped off by literally anyone who came their way. Mo Xuanyu’d started getting conned by the literal infant that they were taking care of – he was completely hopeless.
Also, questionably blind or not, at least A-Qing had no hesitation about beating people with her stick if they struck her the wrong way, which was a life approach Xue Yang agreed with wholeheartedly.
“She’s going to learn to cultivate!” Mo Xuanyu chirped from where he was applying his make-up. “Demonic cultivation, too! We had a whole discussion about it while you were out getting groceries!”
That made a certain amount of sense, Xue Yang supposed. You didn’t need talent to be a demonic cultivator – technically speaking, given his bloodline, Mo Xuanyu was more naturally gifted in cultivation than Xue Yang, which was just wrong on all sorts of levels – and it was certainly more effective a defense mechanism than A-Qing’s stick. If there were two of them, they could protect Mo Xuanyu and the baby more effectively, taking shifts when needed, and Mo Xuanyu, who was also going to learn demonic cultivation no matter how many times Xue Yang had to hammer it into his head, could be the last line of defense, largely since no one would ever expect him to be able to do…anything…and they’d be right, too.
So it wasn’t the craziest idea in the world, only…
“…who is she going to be learning from, exactly!?”
-
“Have you ever considered charging for your skill in teaching cultivation lessons instead of your skill in stabbing people?” A-Qing asked one day. They were lying on the ground and having the corpses they’d raised fan them to try to reduce the temperature – it was that sort of day. Also, Mo Xuanyu, who might’ve objected, wasn’t around. “You’re not actually that bad at this. Might be more profitable, and less work. Just a thought.”
“Shut up. I’m great at stabbing people.”
“Yeah, but then after a while we have to move because people get annoyed at that, and it’s getting a little annoying to have to pack up all the time.”
“We’d have to move anyway. We’re wanted criminals, remember?”
“We could be wanted criminals with a house. Besides, wouldn’t you like to be called Teacher Xue?”
“What? No. Gross.”
-
“So you see, it turns out that they were teaching demonic cultivation in a safe and organized fashion,” Xiao Xingchen explained enthusiastically. “They’d even gathered up their own little sect! And of course everyone heard what the Chang clan did, so there’s no need to worry about them going around and murdering people at random – it was a targeted revenge scheme.”
“We’re working on teaching them regular cultivation,” Song Lan agreed, nodding. “To help mitigate the negative effects of demonic cultivation…well, we started out by just teaching them.”
“It turned out that they’d been secretly teaching all of the local delinquents, too, or at least Mo-gongzi had been teaching a few and Mistress Qing was teaching a few others, and even Sect Leader Xue had a few disciples,” Xiao Xingchen said, politely omitting or possibly having not noticed the fact that Mo Xuanyu had been teaching his ‘friends’ (read: scammers trying to take advantage of him), while A-Qing and Xue Yang had each been trying to form competing gangs and/or obtain lackeys. Xue Yang didn’t mind the oversight, largely on account of the fact that A-Qing had been winning, damn her – he’d kept getting distracted by inventing new things. “And a few of them had real talent – and you know that Zichen and I have always wanted to start a sect of our own, with no bloodline ties –”
“We’re joining their sect,” Song Lan said. “We’ll be leading the orthodox side, while they lead the demonic cultivation aspect – safely, of course.”
“I guess it’s better than them being crazy,” Jiang Cheng said. He sounded dubious. “I don’t like it, but at least all the demonic cultivators can be in one spot, you know?”
He made it sound like they’d be dropping off new ones there in the future.
Like they’d opened up some sort of pet rescue and were taking in unwanted puppies or something.
“Agreed,” Nie Mingjue said. “To the extent that they aren’t causing active harm, containment seems an appropriate remedy here. Who seconds the motion?”
“I do,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled at the newly agreed-upon sect. “Welcome back to the cultivation world, Sect Leader Xue.”
-
“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said, glaring.
“Don’t worry,” Xue Yang told him. “This comes as much of a shock to me as to you.”
The glare intensified, but that was fine. Jin Guangyao’s facial expressions, however minor and generally overlooked, had been the only thing getting him through that awful, awful meeting just now where people kept trying to salute him and make him salute back and if he didn’t then he was letting down Mo Xuanyu (who would send him a sad look) and A-Qing (who would hear about it from Mo Xuanyu later and then find a way to step on his foot right when he was concentrating on something).
Not to mention their two new resident lovebirds, who looked so righteous and proper from the outside but who also may or may not have accidentally full-on actually resurrected some dead asshole cultivator more or less the first time they’d joined Xue Yang in his demonic cultivation laboratory – which would have been fine, you know, that happened in demonic cultivation though not normally to quite such a wow-is-he-actually-alive extent, except that the guy’s intermittent moments of clarity suggested that his two new sect members might have just brought back the Yiling Patriarch himself, which was going to make all of them wanted criminal again the second anyone found out about it.
Ugh.
Being called sect leader was completely not worth this shit.
Xue Yang comforted himself with the reminder that later today he was planning on publicly introducing Jin Guangyao to the Xue sect’s head junior disciple “Xue Song” and announcing loudly that the brat needed some lessons in manners, that he’d heard that that was Lianfeng-zun’s specialty, and nominating him to take care of the kid while they were visiting.
See how the fucker liked that.
“I always knew Xue-gege could do great things!” Mo Xuanyu said, clapping his hands as A-Qing rolled her (by now, Xue Yang was almost definitely sure not actually blind) eyes behind his back. “As long as I went with him!”
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Even the Losers
Chapter 8
Chapter 1 Chapter 7
“Your father is Bruce Wayne and now he wants to reconnect,” Nino recapped as though anyone involved in the call was unaware. From the look Chloe gave him, he was particularly happy she was in New York not Paris and couldn’t actually smack him upside the head.
“Thank you for that waste of time and breath,” Chloe grumbled.
“I just… don’t see the problem.” Nino did actually move away from Alya before she could swat him. “What? Your dad is Bruce freaking Wayne! Even if you don’t connect with him, you can totally draw on that Wayne money.”
He wasn’t fast enough to move away from her smack that time. “Ow!” he pouted at Alya.
“It’s not about the money!” Alya groaned, already exasperated by him. “It’s about him not wanting to have a relationship until the press found out. It’s about him cutting her out but taking in a gaggle of other kids.” Nino lightly shoved Alya’s shoulder and motioned toward Marinette’s expression on the screen. Alya grimaced and gave him a nod of understanding.
Marinette looked down and pursed her lips to keep from frowning. It was bad enough thinking it in her own head constantly, but hearing it out loud, repeated back to her? That made it so much worse. That made her feelings real. That legitimized her feelings. She couldn’t pretend like she was just overreacting. They were justified. Which meant she couldn’t just freeze them out. Or rather she shouldn’t. She had to face them.
She focused her energy on not changing her body language so she didn’t worry Adrien any more than he was already. Keeping her body relaxed instead of tensing up. Adrien had gone into a frenzied panic when he and Max had returned from their apartment search to find her collapsed on the floor, blocking the door. She’d missed the worst of it according to what Tikki said, but she still remembered the terrified look in his eyes when she woke up. He hadn’t left her side since, keeping constant physical contact.
Max seemed to inherently understand the situation and was jumping up to get anything either of them might need so they didn’t have to abandon each other for even a few moments. She was eternally grateful to him for it because she wasn’t sure who the physical proximity was having more of a calming effect on, her or Adrien, but regardless, they both needed it.
Her attempt to not react didn’t seem to have been as effective as she thought it had been judging by the way Adrien hugged her closer to him. Marinette lightly bonked her head into his chest and returned her attention to the laptop screen. “It’s okay, Nino,” Marinette assured him weakly.
“No it isn’t,” Chloe said over her. “Both of you need to stop talking.” She flipped a page in her magazine and looked up at the screen. “I mean, that’s true in general, but especially during this call.” Her eyes were sharp when she looked up but Marinette could see the concern she was trying to hide by focusing on her magazine. She wasn’t sure what Adrien had told them about how he found her but she could tell it was enough to scare them too.
Marinette rolled her eyes at Chloe. “Yes, it is.”
Chloe groaned. “This is the way we work Dupain Cheng. You and Adrien let people walk all over you, Nino keeps the peace, Alya starts trouble, and I tell people the truth and to back the fuck off when it’s warranted.”
“Which never starts trouble,” Alya snarked.
“I do not let people walk all over me!” Adrien objected, looking around for support. Marinette gave a curt nod of agreement, but Max was avoiding his eyes and Chloe was staring at him flatly.
“No, you don’t let people walk all over us,” she motioned toward the screen, trying to indicate the rest of them. “But you let everyone walk all over you.” Her eyes moved slightly and her eyes narrowed slightly. “You both do.”
Marinette wrinkled her nose at the screen with a pout. “I stood up to you,” she groused.
Chloe scoffed. “And it only took you like ten years to do it. So proud of you.” She rolled her eyes so strongly, her entire head moved as she did it.
Marinette’s mouth dropped in offense. “I’m better now.”
“Are you, though? Really?” Chloe deadpanned.
Marinette pouted. “Yes!”
“Statistically, she is accurate,” Max added. “She does stand up for herself more now than when we were younger.” Marinette pursed her lips at Max, unsure how to respond to his comment. On one hand, it defended her. On the other hand, she did not at all appreciate how he stressed the word ‘statistically’ and she was certain everyone else caught that as well.
Chloe opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Nino. Marinette sighed in relief until she started processing his words. “I get that it’s hard and it hurts, I guess I just thought you wouldn’t take it this hard. After Jagged with Luka and Juleka and your grandfather… you forgave all of them. You helped Jagged with Luka and Juleka, making sure their relationship didn’t go bad.” He motioned vaguely at nothing. “You seemed to brush it off and take it as a challenge. So why isn’t this?”
Alya dropped her head in her hands. “Tact, Nino. God.”
“No, he’s not wrong.” Marinette frowned as she thought about his words. “I went after Grand-père and convinced him to reconnect. Papa never held it against him so I guess I didn’t either. Luka never held it against Jagged, just moved forward. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe…”
“No!” Adrien interrupted before she could follow that train of thought any further. He gently turned her toward him to focus her attention on him. “There’s nothing wrong with you or how you’re reacting. There’s no wrong way to react to news like this. If you feel sad, that’s fine. If you feel annoyed, that’s fine. If you feel frustrated, that’s okay. If you want to just move past it, there’s nothing wrong with that. If you feel angry, that’s okay. And if you feel like you need space, that’s okay too. There’s no wrong way to react to this,” he repeated.
“Except however Chloe would respond,” Alya added with a smirk.
“Hey!” Chloe objected loudly, glaring at the screen, but with no real heat behind it. “For the record, how I would respond to news like this is to spend all my new found father’s money, pressing my boundaries until he finally said something. And if he didn’t say anything, I’d use those billions to do whatever the fuck I wanted and never see him in person.”
Marinette blinked at Chloe, as did the rest of the group. That was certainly… an option. Not one Marinette would ever choose, but it was… Marinette started giggling at the idea. Adrien joined her quickly while Max, Alya, and Nino watched them worriedly. Chloe rolled her eyes and flipped the page in her magazine, but the corners of her lips quirked up.
“He is correct,” Max added, bringing them back to the original point. “There are a variety of ways people will react to finding out they have a parent they didn’t know about. Markov found hundreds of studies on psychological responses to similar news and responses are extremely varied.”
“Juleka had a harder time with accepting it and connecting to Jagged than Luka did, remember?” Adrien pointed out. “And there’s nothing wrong with her. She wasn’t wrong to react that way, right?” Marinette shook her head reluctantly. It wasn’t that she thought there was anything wrong with the way Juleka reacted, but in agreeing with Adrien’s observation, she would have to agree with his point that she was allowed to freak out about this instead of ignoring it like she wanted to.
“Marinette,” Alya raised her voice to bring attention back to her. “You can do anything you want here and we’ll support you. You know that. No matter how this ends we all love you. No matter how you react, we’ll love you. Nobody is going to judge you for any decision.”
Chloe scoffed. She waited until everyone was looking, or in Alya and Adrien’s cases, glaring at her. “What? You want me to lie to her?” She looked incredulously at the other faces on the video call. “We won’t judge. Hell, I’m willing to scratch his eyes out in public for you. But, your name was already getting out there and his name, now yours, is on the largest corporation in the world. Every news and gossip organization is going to be talking about it forever if you guys don’t make a good show of it.”
“So?” Alya demanded incredulously. “She should just do whatever is best for publicity?”
“Did I say that?” Chloe scoffed. She finally put her magazine down to show how serious she was taking the conversation. “When have I ever let the threat of bad publicity stop me from doing something? I just said it would be out there, not that she should care. It’s a factor, a big one when she’s figuring out what she wants.”
“What do you want?” Adrien asked gently, turning his attention back to Marinette.
Marinette looked at Adrien for a few seconds while her brain whirred at high speed thinking through all the options. What did she want? None of this. That’s what she wanted. After a few seconds she took a breath and let it out. “What I want is to not have to deal with any of this. What I want is to not be his daughter. What I want is to figure out where we want to live and work and start a company there like we planned. What I want is to live a normal life now.” She ignored Chloe’s scoff. “What I want…” she sighed and looked away. “What I want doesn’t matter.”
Chloe huffed almost loudly enough for it to echo. “Of course it matters, it just doesn’t change the past or the current situation. But, you control your next steps. So Ladybug this bitch. Some egomaniacal, rich, pampered megalomaniac has created an utterly ridiculous problem that you now have to fix. This is your specialty. Show this bastard who he walked out on. Make him regret not dying with his parents.”
“Woah! What the Hell?” Nino exclaimed. “Too far.”
Chloe scoffed and looked back at her nails. “If you think that was too far, you should have heard what I wanted to say. I toned it way down for your sensitive ears,” she added condescendingly. She just barely looked up when Marinette started giggling. Chloe’s lips quirked up the more Marinette tried to stifle the slightly unhinged sounding giggles.
“Dude, that’s her grandparents…” Nino whisper shouted. Marinette suddenly sobered and paled in realization.
“Or!” Adrien interjected with false excitement positioning himself between Marinette and the screen. “Or, you could, you know, try to build a relationship with him.” He looked decidedly away from the incredulous looks from Alya and Chloe and the doubtful look from Nino on screen, trying to pretend like they weren’t judging him. He moved closer to Marinette and took her hands in his giving her a sincere, serious look. “You have someone, your father, who wants to connect to you.”
He ignored the loud scoff from the computer and continued as though Alya or Chloe, or both, hadn’t verbalized their opinion. They clearly weren’t that opposed or they would have said it instead of making a noise. He “accidentally” closed the video chat and gave Max a pointed look.
Max nodded slowly. “I’m just going to go to my room for a few minutes. Let me know if you want to talk.”
Marinette and Adrien both shot him thankful smiles. Adrien waited until his door was closed before looking back at Marinette with a concerned look. “You got screwed in this deal. Nobody can deny that, and however you feel, that’s real and valid. It’s okay to be hurt. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to say this is too much for you right now, or ever. But, do you really want to walk away? Not connect to him? Not try?”
“He didn’t want…” Marinette started weakly.
“Maybe he wasn’t ready,” he cut her off before she could spiral again. “Maybe this is the universe’s way to saying it’s time. You got the embodiment of luck in your pocket. Is it really so farfetched to think luck played a role?”
“Bad luck,” Marinette scoffed to the floor. Adrien gently rapped her on the top of her head with his knuckle. She looked back up and caught his unimpressed look. Marinette sighed and looked away before looking back up at him uncertainly. “I don’t know…”
“Do you think you want to try?” Tikki asked floating out of her resting spot. “It’s your choice. But I don’t think this is going away, so whichever decision you go with you’ll have to face the consequences.”
“Or I could just cataclysm him,” Plagg offered rubbing his paws together. He darted away from Tikki before she could shut him up.
“No!” Marinette and Adrien chorused at the same time.
Adrien glared at Plagg but made sure to soften his eyes before looking back at Marinette. “Okay, maybe things don’t work out with him. But it sounds like you have siblings. You already like Jason. Maybe you’ll like them too.” He gave her a small smile and rubbed her arms soothingly. “You always wanted siblings.”
Marinette gave him a weak smile back. “I don’t need siblings anymore. I have you. That’s more than enough. I don’t think I could handle more of yous.”
Adrien scoffed good naturedly at her. “If anything I’ve made having siblings more appealing.”
Marinette scoffed playfully. “Keep telling yourself that,” she muttered.
He pulled her into a hug. “You always wanted more. And it sounds like you might have sisters.”
“More people he adopted after walking away,” Marinette groused into his shirt.
Adrien hugged her tighter. “Maybe he had a reason? Or maybe he just royally messed up. Maybe he hates himself for the decision. It’s something you won’t find out unless you stay. And you can just talk once and see how you feel about it. If it doesn’t go well, you can walk away and we can find that bar Roy mentioned. If it goes well, you can decide to stay or we can decide to move to New York or Metropolis, like we were thinking and you can still see him every so often.”
“Even if it doesn’t go perfectly,” Tikki added softly, “it’ll give you closure. You deserve to have that.”
“And you’ll wonder what could have happened if you don’t,” Adrien nudged her gently. “You know you’re going to regret not trying.”
“So is that an absolute no on the cataclysm idea,” Plagg popped up between them. “Because I’m still willing.”
Marinette rolled her eyes at him but shot him a grateful smile. It was as close as Plagg got to admitting he cared. She scratched him on the forehead and looked back to Adrien with a frown. “I don’t think I can handle this.”
“I’ll stay with you. And Max will be here. Tikki will be here for you. Plagg will be here, but don’t let that deter you…”
“Hey!” Plagg pouted.
Adrien continued without acknowledging him. “Chloe could be here in a few hours if we needed and she’d drop everything to get here, no matter what she says. Alya and Nino will only be a phone call away. We will support you no matter what you want to do. But we can’t make this decision for you, so, the question is what do you want to do?”
Marinette groaned and pouted at him. “You sure you can’t do this for me?”
Adrien gave her a sympathetic look and shook his head. “Not this time, Bug.” He waited a few minutes for her to think through her options. When she looked just as lost after another few minutes after that, he spoke up gently. “Do you want to talk to Sabine and Tom first? They might have some answers you need to make your decision.”
Marinette looked back up at him with a pathetic looking pout. “Can’t I just sleep through this instead?”
Adrien chuckled and shook his head, relieved she was now in a light enough mood to make jokes. “You could,” he nodded and put on a mock serious face, “but your problems will still be there when you woke up.”
“What bullshit,” she scoffed in a weak voice.
Adrien nodded. “Yep, utter bullshit.”
Marinette kept eye contact with him for a few moments waiting for him to impart some kind of insightful wisdom upon her. When he held silent and let her make her own decision, she whimpered and looked away. “What if it isn’t him I cataclysm,” Plagg asked, flying between them. “I could do it to his house instead… a few of his cars? Rich people always have too many cars.”
Adrien grabbed him out of the air and shoved him in his pocket with an exasperated groan. But Marinette giggled again. When her laughter had settled, she took a deep breath and motioned toward her phone. Adrien smiled at her as he placed it in her hand. She took a deep breath and pulled out the paper M. Wayne had given her. She dialed one of the numbers before she could talk herself out of it, which knowing herself could happen if she was given more than a few seconds to think, and looked up to Adrien, letting his soft smile ground her. “M. Wayne? It’s Marinette. Would you be free for dinner tonight?”
Chapter 9
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#maribat#bio!dad bruce#bio dad bruce wayne#roynette#Even the Losers#mbdbwm2021#prompt - driving/cars#Yeah... I took a lot of liberties with this prompt#I'm pushing all the rest of the prompts back a day because this didn't fit any other way
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