#anyway. i’m so over this <- girl who will never ever be over it
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Reverse Unpopular Opinion: Amy Madison
[Reverse unpopular opinion meme.]
This is an interesting one because I think there’s a solid argument to be made that the character of “Amy Madison” does not, in fact, actually exist on the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
By which I mean … look, okay, yes, obviously, there is a character in an early Season 1 episode called Amy Madison, played by Elizabeth Anne Allen. And there’s a character with the same name in a Season 2 episode, and [in an admittedly weird coincidence] she’s also played by Elizabeth Anne Allen. And there’s one in Season 3, and a one in a few episodes of Season 6, and one in an episode of Season 7, and all of them are played by the same actor.
But … I mean, come on. There’s no way these can all be the same character, right? They don’t have the same basic back story or the same relationship to magic or to Willow; they certainly don’t have anything resembling a definite personality or set of motivations or a consistent character arc. No, surely what’s going on here is that there are several different “Amy Madisons” in Sunnydale – just like there are several different characters called Anne or Nancy on the show – and in a bizarre in-joke the writers simply decided to cast the same woman to play all of them.
Now, ordinarily, simply being written inconsistently over a handful of episodes and not having anything resembling the same personality from week to week would be no obstacle to having a few die-hard fans. But – as far as I can tell, anyway? – there’s no “fandom Amy” either. She never really gets mentioned when people want to talk about how all the Scooby Gang had awful mothers [even though Amy actually did, explicitly and inarguably, have a very, very awful and openly abusive mother!]. There’s very little in the way of Amy/Willow shipping going on here or on AO3 [even though witchcraft is heavily coded as a metaphor for being a lesbian and Amy, one of the first witches we meet on the show, is repeatedly linked to Willow throughout the show’s run]. There are no adorable drawings of Amy as a rat staring out of her cage at Willow and Tara (or if there are, they aren’t getting as many notes as they should be getting).
No, it looks like most people who are still watching and talking about the show twenty-five years later have about as much interest in poor Amy Madison as the writers did. She’s a plot device. A punchline. A cipher. A blank slate. She’s whatever the plot requires her to be to further the stories of the actual characters on the show, and she’ll never ever be anything else. Which is a little sad, if you think about it. I think Amy – or, well, most of the different Amys: The Killer In Me’s smirking evil-for-evil’s-sake Amy I’m not so sure about – deserved better.
[As I write this the thought occurs to me, belatedly, that I might be one of Amy Madison’s biggest fans. Pretty grim news for her if so.]
OK. Enough stalling. Five positive things about Amy Madison [with, as ever, the usual caveat about the comics, which I’ve still not read anything about and still don’t exist].
Witch, Amy’s debut appearance, is a solid episode! One of that season’s best, I think (though not, of course, one of its very best). And I think the duo of Elizabeth Anne Allen's Amy Madison (and Robin Riker as her mom Catherine) is a big part of why that episode works: no, they haven’t got a huge amount to work with, but I think they both do a pretty good job switching between evil witch Catherine and innocent victim Amy. Catherine’s bodyswap spell foreshadows (albeit unintentionally) the bodyswap artifact that the Mayor gifts Faith in This Year’s Girl / Who Are You? and I’ll always have a soft sport for it because of that. And I really like that the episode ends with Amy alive and hanging out with Buffy in a way that suggests that they are going to stay friends, even if we don’t see any evidence on screen that that happened.
Sarcasm aside, I’m really glad the writers brought Amy back in the second season. To me, part of the appeal of the high school years are the recurring minor characters – I talked about Principal Snyder before, but also Jonathan and Devon and Percy and Harmony and … yes, Amy too. The show obviously doesn’t care about her very much, and you have to do a lot of mental gymnastics to fill in the missing pieces of her story and make her arc make sense (why is she starting to do magic in Season 2? When does she start hanging out with Willow?), but … well, I do care and I have done those gymnastics. At least Amy didn’t end up like Marcie Ross or Buffy’s old flame Owen or any of those poor kids who must remember eating Principal Flutie.
I’ve been reading a few old interviews Elizabeth Anne Allen gave recently (here and here, for example) which I think have some pretty interesting insights into how the character of Amy developed. Had you ever heard there were persistent rumors at one point that Amy was going to be one of the starting regulars on Angel? It’s mind-boggling to think about a world where that happened. Allen seems to have put a huge amount of thought into her character, too, at least for her first few appearances, which … uh, I guess makes me feel a bit shitty about those opening paragraphs. [Not enough to delete them though…] Also in one of the linked interviews she says that she “hopes she won’t be a rat much longer” – and that’s an interview she gave before the Season 3 finale had even made it to air, which made me pretty sad to read. Forget appearing on Angel, imagine if Amy had been de-ratted in Season 4. Imagine if Superstar was about Amy instead of Jonathan.
There is a second or two in Season 6’s Smashed – no more than that – when Buffy and Amy are catching up again (“How have you been?” “Rat. You?” “Dead.” “Oh.”) and you can, if you’re quick, delude yourself into thinking that the show is going to do something interesting with the obvious parallel it’s just set up. Willow has now not only brought Buffy back into the regular human world [and left her struggling to live and find meaning as a college drop out with a dead mother and an absent father last seen on screen about five years ago], she’s also brought Amy back into the regular human world [and left her struggling to live and find meaning as a de facto high school drop out with a presumed-dead mother and a presumably-now-absent father last mentioned about five years ago]. Surely this must be deliberate? Well, no: the show doesn’t do anything with this idea ever again, because Marti Noxon had very different [worse] ideas for Amy’s character this season, but if you pretend it might be about do something like that it’s a pretty exciting couple of seconds.
The fact that “Amy Madison” exists as a (technically!) canon character means that I can write (or daydream about writing) fanfiction in which Willow has a friend in high school who is also a practising witch. One with a vague but miserable home life, who is secretly in love with Willow but too afraid to admit it (and so she keeps professing to be interested in men who she can’t possibly ever expect to date, either because they’re unpleasantly vile toward women or openly gay or both). And I can do that while, just about, pretending that I have not created the most embarrasingly psychologically revealing OC you ever heard about in your life. Thanks Amy!
#btvs#asks#thanks!#Amy would be so interesting if the writers were interested in letting her be interesting
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the thing is. yeah kendall feels like his whole life now is worth nothing. the one thing he was always meant to do, since he was seven years old he now cannot do. he will never get to do it. so he might as well die, right? he might as well end it all but the thing is life is never that kind nor generous. so i think kendall will try and fail. and he’ll try again and again but the world will keep its grip on him and eventually he’ll just stop trying. and yeah maybe he’ll never be a whole person (we’re nothing) maybe he’ll take logan’s advice and collect sports cars or write a book or start a new company but either way he’ll be forced to start anew. kendall logan roy died it’s just kendall now. and this outcome in itself is generous in a way because circumstances out of his control have kind of forced him to hold some accountability for his own life finally instead of counting on broken promises his father made him at 7 years old. he’s actually being forced to Be instead of just living up to someone else’s name. and he actually has people around him who still undoubtedly care. he’s sick and horrible and twisted but he is still ultimately lovable. he is still a human being weeping on the dirty ground even though he has spent so long trying not to be. even though he recanted the very thing that made him Real. the world will simply not relinquish its hold on him! tragic but somewhat hopeful in a way
#like he’s never going to be happy. never ever. but being content or even ambivalent to your life is different than being happy and i truly#think kendall could get there at some point. something about the world forcing you to go on. i like how his last scene was surrounded by#earth and water. things that are Materially Real compared to kendall himself who is Not Real. like i think while some things can’t be#repaired it’s not too late for him to be a little bit involved in his kids lives. maybe a few years down the line. rava still cares about#him and offers him so much kindness even when she shouldn’t. he will have stewy forever like. stewy will love him forever. give roman a few#months. ultimately i think roman will push kendall away at first bc he spent this whole season maintaining his family out of Necessity and#i think kendall and roman have got to a place where it’s a bit sick. and roman will come around but he needs some time and so does kendall.#but ultimately they’ll be okay.#with shiv it’s like. well. god. like kendall will never ever be able to look tom in the eye ever. but i think they will not talk for years#maybe. but they’ll ache for each other a little bit. but also the resent and anger and hurt gets in the way. but i think give it like. 10#years or idk maybe even less but 10 seems good to me. and they’ll slowly start to let each other in again. i think the three of them will#grow old together like ultimately they’ll always be kids when they’re with each other ykwim.#but idk i think kenshiv will be okay in the end jus rn it’s bleak asf. i think at different times in the next few years they will Try with#each other but the other will be so resistant but there will be a time where they’re just both so Tired and when tom dies shiv will call#kendall first even though they maybe haven’t spoken for god knows how long and he will be with her on the phone. and when connor passes away#they will hold hands again and idk. they’ll be okay. broken but okay.#anyway. i’m so over this <- girl who will never ever be over it#kendall
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Do not get the wrong idea… although my username and icon are lesbianusahana and I frequently talk about how gay I am I’d actually rather jump out a window on a several story tall building than come out to my family as a lesbian
#꒰🥀꒱ ❝ Tragic Prose ❞#RAZ LORE LIGHTNING ROUND for the new followers#don’t get the wrong idea! I love my mom. I’m very blessed to have such a tolerant and supportive mom#HOWEVER. just because she’s supportive doesn’t mean she’s normal. huge difference#she frequently gossips about her gay coworkers and despite pushing 50 is one of those Fandom Mom fujoshis who frequents AO3 religiously#I remember when I tried to initially ID as a lesbian I never came out. she found out by going on my Instagram profile and reading my carrd#fortunately she took it like a champ and was completely fine with it!#and honestly I would’ve been fine if she didn’t. y’know. make really uncomfortable jokes about lesbian sex to me#if I sound like I’m lying I promise I’m not. she’s just like that. she’s a walking talking Oppa Homeless Style kinda person#and don’t get me started on my dad. I wouldn’t say he’s bigoted per se I genuinely think he’s too stupid to actually be a bigot#years ago we went back to school shopping and I found this cute hat with a really small rainbow on it#and he was really hesitant on getting it because. he thought I’d be bullied. if kids thought I was gay.#and on the same shopping trip I showed him this Polaroid shirt I got with rainbow colors#and he said#(and I quote)#‘Oh because of gay rights?’#which is. uh. huh???#yeah I don’t think he has it in him to be bigoted but his little walnut sized brain would explode#fortunately my older sister is very cool. when I thought I was transmasc for a while she took it super well#so I don’t think she’ll care if I ever come out to her#see here’s the thing. my mom and sister technically know I’m gay#well. my explanation is ‘I’m bi but I prefer girls’ which they get. trying to tell them I’m a lesbian again is too risky a gamble#anyways. tangent over just was mulling over some stuff
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#rant time#ok you know what im literally done bc if you’re going to act like my friend only when it’s convenient for you you’re not my friend!!!#like!!! hello??? do you realize how not ok it is to treat people that way??? to make comments that lift them up and make them feel like#they’re your best friend and then ignore them for the next two weeks or whatever??#seriously stop being so fake!!! you should’ve just been a mature person and told me that you don’t want to be my friend anymore instead of#whatever this is#like just tell me if i did something wrong to you and we can move on#because do you understand how terrible it makes me feel every time i’m in a class with you and all of your friends and you act like you’ve#never seen my face in your life??? and i’m just sitting there alone when years ago you would always sit by me when i was sitting alone#because you said you hated when people sat alone#yeah right ok girl i believe you!!!#of course you don’t understand that because you’ve never felt that way#you just ditch your friends every one or two years because there’s new people you like better#well guess what??? if you keep being a crappy friend those people will never be your real friends#like seriously who are you actually friends with??? you’re so fake!!! you constantly talk crap about all of your new friends!!! and then#the second they’re in the room with you you act like they’re your best friend for life#like no they’re not!!! not when you’ve said stuff like how mean and braggy they are and how you don’t want them to get leads over me!!!#well guess what if you want to ditch friends who are actually good people then you’re stuck with mean and braggy people so deal with it#and it’s not just me!!! i feel like you’ve treated everyone like this and it’s so not ok#so anyway i know I’ll say all this and then the next time you try to talk to me i’ll keep acting like it’s fine#but just so you know i think you’re the fakest friend I’ve ever had and i hope someday you get a taste of your own medicine#sorry for the rant lol#lav speaks
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I wish I could inject pasilyo into my brain so I can have permanent happiness
#There’s this specific part of the song#It srsly alters my brain chemistry#Anyways#i hate tumblr sm#Idk like I Gen hate being on here sm#No matter what account I make no matter if I tell ppl about it whether I don’t tell ppl I just hate this place soooo much#Like if I have a following it sucks because it’s rlly lonely if I don’t it’s still lonely and then if there’s nobody at all it’s lonely#Loneliness is what got me to discord boy so like :D#The fact I am genuinely missing him sm I’m gonna krill myself 😻🙏#Also I think I hate talking to minors cause these kids be letting themselves get groomed all the time I’m so tired of seeing it#The creep in my course is being so weird to Raisa who is a minor … I can’t help but think it’s all my fault … I invited her to the pharm gc#To show her how messy it was ….#I didn’t expect her to follow and accept requests of everyone …#Anyways I just am so annoyed. Like I wish I could have one person just one where I can be confident in being their no.1 but every time I th#Think I’m maybe somewhere high up on someone’s list of important ppl I realise I overestimated my position even tho I’m rlly self conscious#And being myself down over that. Also I still hate Eid. I hate Eid sm. How do ppl genuinely enjoy Eid. Idk if I’ve ever been excited for Ei#It’s like I’m just suddenly getting more sick of ppl by the day. I Gen don’t like talking to ppl at all even tho I used to rely on talking#To others like its sustenance now it’s just such a hassle to me because I’m so sick of being unimportant to literally every single person I#Have ever known. Literally everyone except maybe dahlia idk. the only person who has never gotten mad/snapped at me o is dahlia#And knowing my luck that will soon be taken from me too. Anyways good riddance to tumblr i loathe this site and im sick of the mind games#All the time from just existing on here. Gen makes me feel ill. I’m so sick of that girl I like and sick of everyone. The only time ppl car#Is when I cause a scene. And ykw atp I loathe being showed sympathy and pity for these sorts of posts because it just feels like a big joke#Cause why couldn’t you just care when I was fine. Why do you ONLY care when I’ve had enough of your bad behaviour. How does one make someon#Like me go mad with all these things#Istg if I come back to this dumb site whether to this acc to the tora one or my other account everyone has permission to beat me up.#dora daily#Tldr;I HATE ppl and everyone ever + I’m just sick of pretending like everyone doesn’t suck cause how can ppl be so insufferable intolerable#Insane horrible in every way and ppl like them. How do they live with themselves when they’re this aggravating. Every day I hate ppl more#Because their mannerisms their everything is just so embarrassing.#Essay tags 😻😻😻
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Suchhhhhhh a good day
•lovely sunny weather but not too hot
•didn’t have work and don’t have work tomorrow
•took a shower in the morning and had my hair braided right after while still wet
•got bakery goods mmm
•made toffee and chopped some up which was really satisfying
•wore two different comfy cute outfits that I really enjoy and feel myself in
•blasted ridiculous songs on the way back from the bakery and looked ridiculous in a lovely way
•crocheted blanket I’m working on
•DIDNT GET A HEADACHE DIDNT GET A GLINT OF HEADACHE NOT EVEN AN INKLING OF PREHEADACHE
As far as getting things accomplished I didn’t do hardly anything but in the business of enjoying life I excelled today!
#my thoughts#one of the outfits was my carhartt overalls with ny light blue tank top#the other is an athletic tank top with athletic shorts but both actually fit me which I haven’t had any that really fit in years so woooo#oh and it’s a black tank top :) I love wearing black and I thought for a long time it was because wearing color made me anxious#but now that I’m pretty much over that I think I just really love wearing black#I feel sexy in it >:)#saying that as someone who literally never rarely ever feels or is compelled to feel “sexy#I think I’m experiencing something like gender euphoria of late#pardon me for using terms not really suited to my situation I don’t know how else to explain it#but basically I’ve never been enthusiastic really about myself and how I present in the world#being called a woman felt not good. felt like I was not a woman because a woman was supposed to be someone who looked and acted certain#“desirable ways#like I was not what society considered to be a woman. girl was fine I guess and I definitely wasn’t a guy. I just felt like woman was#an incredibly high standard to meet that I did not meet nor really wanted to meet. being called a woman made me internally cringe#I’ve known for a while there’s no right way to be a woman but I think I’ve finally internalized that and am at a point#where I truly love myself and accept myself. and now being a woman seems all right. so being a woman feels euphoric to me#and expressing myself in clothing and other presentations is incredibly fun and feels euphoric#I never really had much of an interest before. probably because I felt like there was some standard I had to meet that I couldn’t and didnt#want to meet. but now I’m discovering what I really like and doing things because it’s fun and silly and goofy and it’s so FUN#anyway. thanks for coming to my ted talk#playing around with gender is beneficial to everyone
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Em Farrow (tentative last name for dhsab si…..) makes a point of attending a book club at a college they don’t attend, for at least the first part of the storyline. It’s how they established and maintain a small civ friendgroup while living in the city and working under the ELE.
It’s just generally assumed by the other members that Em is a student, but when asked directly (hey, what year are you, anyway? you’re not graduating, are you?) they’ll admit to being a dropout. (nah, I failed out, haha. But Samantha said it would be alright if I kept showing up to our meetings, everybody say thank you Sam) (pan, over a chorus of thaaank you Saaaams, to the quiet club treasurer everybody loves who is a little embarrassed by being singled out and certainly isn’t going to make a fuss and REVOKE an invitation even if she’s pretty sure she never offered one because that would be RUDE and make everything worse)
#they Are a villain after all. laughs#I still haven’t entirely nailed down the whole stupid timeline and figured out if Em ever actually went to college HERE#and relocated FOR college#or if they went to college in hometown and THEN relocated#leaning towards the former. simplicity#but I am still over here like. how OLD are we ANYWAY#They’re both older than me for sure and I am pleased and delighted by this. it just means that backstory stuff happens#when I’m a teeny bopper. so that I can have enough years in between backstory->movie and movie->selfship storyline#jfc it just makes penny Em’s gay awakening doesn’t it. the cute senior girl leaving for college in the fall#fuck that’s so funny. depending on how big I end up making the age gap that puts the future rivalry with bill into a kind of different ligh#em kinda plays the crush up as though they were older and actually had any semblance of a chance with Penny#and does not inform Bill that they were like. Just entering high school in the fall. still couldn’t drive.#literally waiting on those last baby molars to fall out so they could get braces. the works.#there would Need to be a group photo reveal scene where after being weird and sad about baby penny he’s like okay which one are you.#and Em has to go. um. the one with the really bad side swept bangs. towards the front#and Billy just goes :I ?#That’s a fetus.#and em NEVER hears the end of it#(penny remembers Em fondly from those days but has no clue there were crush feelings involved)#(and it’s a bit of a hurdle to get her to stop seeing em as That Junior Helper From The Daycare Back In The Day. Who Is A Villain Now)#lucky penny#whats up doc?
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cant believe i’m in a heated tense micro-argument with a teenager because she keeps saying she HATES shrek three cannot stand it but also by her own account has never seen it. she won’t say anything beyond “he hates being royal and hates being a dad big deal” and that it’s a poor quality movie. i accidentally started a whole thing because i mentioned if she wanted to watch shrek four then watching three made sense, at the very least if you’re going to shit on a movie you need to know what you’re talking about. we’re talking about shrek here though. what the fuck is happening
#tauto talks#it’s not even funny i fucking went downstairs to cry because shit was taking such a weird right turn#local child wants to watch shrek 4 and local adults living in the house keep trying to ask why she cannot stand the idea of watching#the third movie if she’s never seen it and then keeps talking about it like it is the worst movie ever#it became a whole thing her mom put the third one on and she would not pay attention and then it all got Worse#i wanted to make a point at least that you can’t really critique a media you haven’t seen surface level like this#but i keep feeling so fucking baffled at the fact this is all about shrek#because i genuinely like the shrek movies. all of them. like in order. and i think shrek 3 is underrated#gets overshadowed by shrek 2 being the best sequel in history and the first being The Classic and then shrek 4 being super cool#idk i got my feelings hurt because she joked about me needing to evaluate my work and i do Not understand why it was that serious#YOUVE NEVER SEEN IT#being mean to me “as a joke” over something you seem way too opinionated on for someone who has never seen it#what stupid youtube review bro got to you#communication error moment maybe i just can’t stop thinking about it because i hate conflict every time it happens ever#over SHREK of all things. christ#i hate it here#this post is cursed#i don’t know why it’s so serious to me (i guess it became serious when i was insulted but i’m genuinely trying to be like. normal and kind)#(she apologized but only after everyone had to be like. no girl that was rude. that was a low blow. why’d you make it that personal.)#i just think arthur is funny. he’s a silly guy. i think the story is nice and sweet and compelling and cheesy enough to enjoy#you can only like shrek 3 as an adult maybe#anyway yeah cursed post !!!!!
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there is no feeling worse in the world than missing your grandma :/
#she died two months before my eighth birthday#and every time i realize i’ve lived well over half my life without her i go a little bit insane bc that just doesn’t feel right#like soooo many of my favorite memories are with her how is it possible she was only in my life for less than eight years#my grandpas on both sides died before i was born so all i’ve ever had is my grandmas#and there’s also the horrible guilt i feel all the time knowing my other grandma is still alive but i rarely ever see her#but when i was a kid she lived an hour and a half away from us and this grandma lived around the corner#so we saw her all the time and every christmas fourth of july etc that whole side of my extended family would all go to her house#she moved into that house when my mom was 2 years old and lived there for the rest of her life so 40 years#and when she went into hospice care her one request was to die in that house surrounded by her kids and grandkids so that’s what happened#my parents bought the house after she died but we lived there for less than 2 years before moving to arizona#they’re both from colorado but they met in arizona and me and my sisters were born here#and the main reason we moved back to colorado in the first place was to be near her#but when we moved again my parents sold the house to our neighbors who had two daughters that my sisters and i grew up with#and they’re still our family friends to this day and we used to go on trips to national parks together every summer#we didn’t see them for maybe five years but then two summers ago their older daughter got married and we went to her wedding#which got us talking about how long it had been since our last trip so we went on another one last summer#this has turned into a tangent but it just makes me so happy that they’re still in our lives#and this great family we’ve known almost my entire life is living in my grandma’s house#she had a pool in her backyard which is super common here in az but not so much in colorado#and she let us invite these girls over all the time to swim so they grew up spending almost as much time in that house as we did#last time we were in colorado we went to have dinner with them and swim and it was like being transported back to my childhood#that house is just so special to me and i felt so blessed to be able to go back there since this family bought it instead of strangers#in a perfect world everything would align in a way that would let me buy it when i’m older and have my own family there#i’ve never had a strong attachment to any other house we’ve lived in but that one will always be my grandma’s house in my mind#i just love and miss her so much she was the most amazing grandma i ever could have asked for#my mom still has a lot of her childhood friends on facebook and whenever she would post pictures of me and my sisters as kids#everyone would comment that i looked exactly like my grandma did when she was a kid and that makes me so so happy#anyway. idk. i just miss her sm she was an angel and i’m so happy she was such a big part of my childhood#lj.txt
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Last night I had a dream that me and my best friend were living together and it was super not going well lol
#in the dream she had an extra kid which was a 5 year old boy named sam. i feel fine saying his name because this is not a real child#this was in addition to her actual; real life child which is a toddler girl#i did not find the addition of sam to be in any way weird in the dream. it was like sam had been there the whole time#anyway so we were living together in this absolute dive of a house. i slept on the couch; she and both kids shared a twin bed together#and we had a roommate which was an elderly man who wasn’t related to either of us. he didn’t seem malicious exactly but he also didn’t care#about any of us. i specifically remember he never spoke to me but he would speak with her and seemingly entertain requests/favours from her#anyway so in the dream i was working for a failing takeaway business. i was specifically just answering the phones#and i bragged that i only ever got about 4 calls a night but they still had to pay me minimum wage for the whole night so it was basically#the easiest job i’d ever had. and my friend was like ‘i want to come work there too!’ so we somehow arranged this and they agreed to pay her#for a night’s work. doing what i don’t know. but as we were setting off i was like ‘so if you’re going to work… and i’m going to work…..#and our roommate is in there passed out drunk…… who’s in charge of the kids??’ and she was like ‘sam :)’#i was like ‘your five year old son sam?’ and she was like ‘yep :) they’ll just sleep anyway. they’ll be fine’#i was like uhhhh. i don’t think that’s right. but i couldn’t convince her to stay and i felt like i couldn’t cancel my shift for some reason#also worth mentioning: there was torrential rain happening. there was a strong possibility that our house would flood. i think the area#i slept in had actually already flooded? so that should’ve meant we couldn’t get to work anyway#but we were still planning on going for some reason. before we left she did go knock on our roommate’s door and was like ‘hey btw if the#kids do anything; you don’t have to sort them out but can you please call our landlord so he can come over and sit with them? thanks’#the roommate agreed. and it seemed like she had an agreement with the landlord. this is obviously ridiculous but my friend is soooo good#with people. i guarantee she’d manage to set up some absurd arrangement like this where her landlord would somehow be doing childcare#for her and still not adding to the rent#anyway the dream ended with us driving to work in a CONVERTIBLE (neither of us own one) that was slowly but surely filling up with rainwater#from the torrential storm. it was starting to resemble a capsizing boat#whole time my friend’s looking at me like that meme of pedro pascal grinning and driving#somehow simultaneously the most ridiculous dream ever and the most accurate depiction of what would happen if me and her ever lived together#i mean not the child endangerment. she would never. she ended an abusive relationship i never thought she’d end in order to protect that kid#and not the convertible. she exclusively drives vans. the rest though??? yeah#personal
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Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart.
Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of.
“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.”
You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man.
But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off.
You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back.
But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet?
What if eventually, the talking becomes too much?
He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder).
Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip.
“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.”
You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind.
You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.”
Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing.
You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf.
“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks.
“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.”
“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.”
He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss.
“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?”
“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”
“No?” he asks.
Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”
“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously.
“Everything was fine.”
He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.”
He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be.
Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers.
“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.”
“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it.
“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…”
He waits. “And?”
“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.”
“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?”
“What?”
“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.”
“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly.
“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”
“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”
“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats.
You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask.
“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.”
He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him.
“Can I have my dinner first?”
“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.”
He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it.
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius x reader fluff#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#marauders era#marauders#sirius black drabble#sirius black scenario#sirius black oneshot#the marauders#sirius orion black
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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)
context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.
ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.
‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.
‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.
correction, you shatter.
somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.
and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.
‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’
quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.
‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.
when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.
‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’
‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.
god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.
‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.
‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.
geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.
‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.
‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.
‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.
‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.
‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.
‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.
‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.
since when did he-?
out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-
‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.
‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.
what the fuck am i doing, he thought.
slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.
‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.
‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.
‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.
his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.
he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.
nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.
‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.
‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.
the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.
he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.
‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.
a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.
slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.
‘sweetheart…? why are you…’
you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.
‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’
his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’
#bro i’m actually so scared to post this cuz i’ve never written anything like it before god bless#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#geto smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#geto x reader smut#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen smut#sukuna smut#geto x reader#nanami smut#sukuna x reader smut#sukuna x reader#nanami kento smut
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SWORN RIVALS
Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!Reader
Summary - Taking up sparring with your sworn rival is likely never a good idea.
Warnings - barely edited, blood, implied fighting, suggestive language but no real smut, likely ooc given that the episode hasn't even aired yet lmao
Word Count - 1.1k
!MINORS DNI!
// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //
Pain splinters throughout your hand as your knuckles collide with his jaw. He stumbles backwards—just barely managing to keep himself from falling right onto his ass.
“You fight like a girl,” you jeer, purposefully antagonizing him. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected of a Blackwood.”
A raspy laugh rumbles through Benjicot Blackwood’s chest—a bitter, deep sound that sets your toes curling.
“You’ve got quite a mouth on you.” Forcing his chin high, he flashes his crimson-stained teeth in a wry grin, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He muses, “But perhaps we should put it to better use, don’t you think?”
You cut your eyes at the bawdy implication. “You’re disgusting, Ben.”
Another chuckle as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, inadvertently smearing blood along his bottom lip. The sight is entrancing—in a morbid sort of way. It glistens like pomegranate juice and, for a mere breath, you wonder if it would taste half as sweet.
“C’mon!” Ben’s teasing tone slices through your thoughts, forcing some sense back into you. “Don’t act like you’ve never thought of it before,” he says, waving a hand between you both, “the two of us–”
You don’t let him finish his sentence, cutting him off with a sharp glare. “I haven’t,” you practically snarl, taking a half-step towards him. “And you shouldn’t either,” you add, “I’d much prefer to be left out of your…" you blow out an exasperated breath, "depraved fantasies!”
“Oh, but you are my depraved fantasies, sweetheart.” Ben’s grin widens as you groan, shaking your head at him. “You're also a liar, Bracken,” he adds, “and a shitty one, at that!”
“You can believe whatever you want, Blackwood—but that won't make it true.”
“Just admit it,” he continues. Swinging one foot forward, he takes a lazy step towards you—then another. “That’s why you train with me, isn’t it? ‘Cause you’re so desperate for someone to put you in your place—and none of those pansies along the Red Fork are fit for the task, are they?”
You grit your teeth, knowing that his words aren’t entirely false.
Training with Ben hadn’t necessarily been a purposeful decision. It was something that just sort of happened. Yet, in spite of the rivalry between your families, you’re willing to admit that you do prefer training with him over the Tully or Roote boys.
He fought you like a true opponent—unlike the others, who felt the need to pull their punches or slow their own strikes, forever treating you like a helpless maiden rather than an equal.
In many ways, you found Ben to be more tolerable than any other boy in the Riverlands, anyway. He was fierce and tough and undeniably skilled with both blade and fists, making him your ideal sparring partner.
You still despise him, though—if only because that is what’s expected of you by your father, the Head of House Bracken.
“Big talk from the boy who hasn’t gotten a single hit in today,” you smugly remind him. “Perhaps if you spent as much time training as you do thinking with your cock, you might actually stand a chance at victory, Benji.”
Less than a foot-or-so of space separates the two of you when he finally stops, his grin souring like rotted fruit.
“Don’t call me that,” he chides, his bottom lip jutting slightly. Your brow furrows, trying to discern if he’s pouting or if it’s simply swelling from when you hit him. “Besides,” Ben continues, “have you ever considered that maybe I’m just going easy on you?”
You don’t buy his weak attempt at goading you—though you do entertain it, asking, “And why would you do that?”
His shoulder lifts into a languid shrug. “Maybe I like it when you push me around,” he drawls, teasing.
Another step and he’s towering over you, his chest mere inches from yours. His scent—a blend of leather and rich sandalwood—floods your nostrils, stirring your senses and leaving you dizzy.
“Although,” Ben’s smirk returns, laden with his usual mischief, “I think I’d like you even more if you were on your knees-”
A scoff rips from your throat, cutting him off with a rough swat to his chest. “Oh, go fuck yourself, Blackwood!”
“Only if you’ll watch, Bracken,” he croons, mocking you.
Every inch of your body is suddenly humming to life, an unrelenting blaze of rage—or was it desire?—setting your nerves alight. Before you can muster a response, a comeback, his fingers have closed around one of your wrists.
“Go on,” Ben murmurs, his voice tantalizingly low. Your breath hitches as he presses your hand to his chest, feeling his pulse beat beneath your palm. “Hit me,” he dares, louder now. “Push me.”
You don’t speak—don’t move, as those storm-cloud eyes dip once again. “Fucking do it—”
You cut him off, fingers curling around the scarlet fabric of his tunic—you should kill him for being so crude, for acting so utterly lascivious!
And yet, despite all logic and reason, you tug him closer. Pulling him down to your level in one swift motion, crashing your lips together in a kiss that is anything but soft.
On instinct, your other hand slips to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in soft, brown hair. You feel his heartbeat stutter beneath your fist, still gripping his tunic. For no more than a breath, you worry you’ve fucked this whole thing up.
This is wrong! You scream at yourself. Wrong wrong wrong!
But then he moves—hooking an arm around your waist, his nails sinking into your hip in an effort to bring you closer—and you loathe just how right this feels.
Your legs tremble as his tongue slides along your lower lip, a soft moan spilling into his mouth. You feel him grin against you—can taste the blood on his lips, the bitter sweetness dancing on your tongue as he utters, “Eager, are we?”
Tightening your grip on his hair, he hiss slips from his teeth. “Shut up.”
He obliges—his mouth drifting from your lips to your jaw, leaving a bloody trail of kisses in his wake. You try not to think as he finally reaches your neck, earning a soft whine as he nips at your flesh. You try to forget who he is—that you’re supposed to hate him—as he shoves his leg between yours, offering you the very friction you so desperately desired.
“This changes nothing, Benji,” you pant.
He bristles at the nickname, letting his teeth sink deeper into your flesh, a deep bruise already blooming along your neck. “Sure." His own breathing is frantic and uneven as he rasps, “Whatever you say..”
Your hand falls from his chest to his breeches, fingers already fumbling with the laces when you choke out, “I still think you’re disgusting, Blackwood.”
His own touch disappears beneath your tunic, fingertips trailing along every inch of your skin until his palms finally skim along your bare breasts. He gives one a rough squeeze before flashing that stupid, bloody grin of his.
“And you’re still a liar, Bracken.”
a/n - writing fan fic for a character that hasn't even appeared on screen yet is wild. (hbo, this better be bloody ben or else I'll riot because this is perfect casting). anyway, I don't wanna be held accountable for how terrible, short, and rushed this is (I was bored and didn't feel like putting more effort into this than necessary rn) OR how wildly ooc this will likely prove to be come Sunday.
also---turns out that writing without actually knowing the character is hard! who'd have thunk, am I right?
#hotd imagine#house of the dragon imagine#ben blackwood imagine#benjicot blackwood#benjicot blackwood imagine#bloody ben imagine#bloody ben#ben blackwood#ben blackwood x reader#benjicot blackwood x reader#bloody ben x reader#benji blackwood#hotd x reader#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon fanfic#hotd imagines#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon#ben blackwood imagines
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AURGHH I KEEP FLASHBACKING TO THE AWKWARD SITUATION TODAY
#it feels unreal#gonna cry#I wish guys didn’t exist !!! that way I wouldn’t be so awkward around them !!!!#like it’s so mean to expect me to suddenly be okay with interacting with them when I’ve been shut out from them for most of my development#years#its like so unhealthy 🧍♀️#anyways I already have a tough time talking when I’m in a mildly stressful situation but …#like my words always get stuck in my throat / I just mumble random nonesense / I don’t know how to articulate my thoughts / stammering#I’m a rlly anxious person and it’s rlly debilitating 🧎♀️#who ever thinks stammering is cute can respectfully … idk IM JUST LIKE 😭😭😭 how’s stammering cute I am stressed beyond belief !!!#I hate socialisation#anyways ughhh that was so embarrassing pls like now I think I made him feel bad about himself …#I didn’t mean to I swear I would never 😭 he just misunderstood me is all 😭#Muslim Girls CANT TOUCH ANY GUY INCLUDING HANDSHAKES FISTBUMPS ETC#pls … why are guys trying to fist bump me I am not a bro 😔#I Ran out of the lab basically#my mum when I told her the story she was sympathising w him more than me and said I should get over it !!!!#girl … I cannot stand men … even the normal ones creep me out to some extent#I’ve been shut out from them for centuries everyone wants a token goody two shoes good girl#who doesn’t talk to boys until she’s thrust into said mixed environment and is expected to deal with it how about no …#dora daily#yeah I dislike every male idk they make me feel weird ? it’s hard to explain 😭#it wouldn’t be that deep if everyone didn’t slaughter malala for the handshake UGHHH ID RATHER JUST SHAKE HIS HAND WHY IS THIS AN ISSUE#like on one hand I could’ve said hey I’m not allowed in my religion but doesn’t that just sound like rlly bad ?#the only thing I managed to tell him was after I stared at him like a deer in headlights was “uh …. I … can’t”#and he was like wdym you can’t LIKE LOOKING UPSET 😭#I DONT DO WELL WITH MAKING PPL UPSET IM SOBBING#I hope he didn’t take it personally it’s just 😭😭😭#anyways time to shut up !!!
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just a taste
18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
✧・゚: ✧・゚:
eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.
“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?”
“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking.
“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.”
“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
“now?”
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.”
eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.”
“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.
-
eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.
“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much.
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.
two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now.
not if you were sleeping in his bed.
it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it.
“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done.
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.
“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.
“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.
“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.”
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.
-
when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.
tonight it’s different, you get to pick.
and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it.
you land on edward scissorhands.
not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.
in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.
he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.
“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary.
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on.
he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.
unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone.
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive.
it’s torturous.
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.
so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know.
though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.
eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core.
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.
“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears.
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.
“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?”
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.
“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.
“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?”
there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.
“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away.
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.
eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.
“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?”
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started.
“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him.
you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.
“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,”
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.
“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did.
“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.
if only she knew.
eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.
-
eddie can’t take it anymore.
he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer.
but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.
he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.
“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.
robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose
he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.
“you want some help with that?”
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.
it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.
“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.
eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.
“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.
you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.
eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.
it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.
“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.
“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x you#eddie munson stranger things
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Sometime around eight or nine my best friend and I learned about hickies. I suspect he’s the one who learned it and shared it with me. We were both utterly fascinated and on a dare I sucked mightily on my own upper arm to give myself one.
This was great fun, self made bruise. Hilarious.
But looking at the mark later I thought that perhaps it might be best to bandage it lest any questions crop up. My parents were often suspicious of my friendship with the boy across the street anyway, and I had a vague inkling that perhaps hickies might fall under the vaguely looming topic of Sex.
So I put a bandaid on it.
I’m not sure if my mom was suspicious regardless but as I was getting out of the shower a day later she popped in and spotted my unbandaged mark. The handle was flown off. She was a creature made only of yelling. She demanded to know where it had come from.
I told her I’d done it myself. She scoffed and said I couldn’t even reach that place on my arm. I put my mouth over the mark. She escalated her volume to ask why I’d hidden it if it were nothing and I gestured vaguely to encompass her irate direction. She did not care for that or believe me, but the discussion was tabled.
Tension simmered in the house. A few days later it was a weekend and I asked if I could stay over at my friend’s house. To the bafflement of my friend and I our parents were increasingly hesitant to allow this childhood bonding. If he’d been a girl there would be no issue but he was a boy.
It didn’t seem to matter that we were both children and that my menstrual cycle would not arrive for several more years. Or that a boy was safer from me than many female friends would be on later sleepovers. The constant jokes we both loathed from both sets of parents that someday we’d get married now seemed ominous.
There were phone calls. The sleepover was reluctantly agreed to. I packed up my pillowcase with all the stuff I’d need for the night and headed toward the door. My father stopped me.
He insisted I sit down. I sat.
He stuttered, “Now. You’re like. Ah. A flower. And your friend is a- uh. A bee. And bees will sting you- uhm- if they can so you need to use- uh- protection- from stinging.”
I was nine. I had no fucking idea what was going on and my dad was not really helping. As he rambled I slowly started to intuit that this was about S-E-X and was very probably the result of my hickey but I had no idea how to make him stop talking.
I will never understand why it was my father giving this talk in the first place. My mother had previously worked in a sex shop and phrases like, “Make sure to use lube, you don’t wanna rub it raw down there,” were a common part of my youth. My father meanwhile turned red as a beet and stammered at any mention of Sex.
He finished his mortifying and confusing talk with, “Don’t tell your friend about this talk.”
The door closed to my friends room and I immediately told him about it.
We were both utterly horrified at the thought of each other as anything more than frenemies. We fought, we played games, we set off fireworks. Why did adults need to taint that?
But tainted it was.
Both sets of parents continued to radiate an unwholesome suspicion about our friendship now and we never brought up the topic of sleepovers ever again. It is a source of tremendous amusement that despite all their worry over our relationship my friend and I both turned out gay.
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