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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 18 days ago

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Captain's Orders 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: I am still dizzy her and there but feeling a bit better.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You wouldn’t call it doom scrolling. That’s not what this is. You try not to search out the depressing headlines or the studies of the human character assuring you of your race’s inherent flaws. Yet, all those boastful posts about engagements, weddings, and promotions still make you feel crummy.

Jealous? Sure. You don’t have any of those things and it isn’t as if you can hope for as much, either. You’re in a dead-end job, living in cramped apartment with your sister and her irresponsible friend, and your romantic life is next to non-existent; not that you’ve been looking. None of that is meant for you, otherwise, you’d have had some glimmer of interest by now.

It’s like quicksand. Not very quick but it pulls you down lower and lower. Sinking and sinking until all you can see is the muck. There’s no way out now, you’re waist deep in it.

You click under your favourite communities and start a new post. You don’t make many. Mostly you read and judge silently. You’re a lurker. Like in many facets of your life. You watch, you don’t do. But you’ve had a shitty day and you need to just let it out.

Your fingers move as your thoughts boil in your head; your nagging manager, your lazy landlord, and your immature roommates. Nothing ever goes your way. Everyone else has it figured out and you’re just left to rot. You try! You do. Resumes, profiles on friendship apps, online courses; free, of course, it’s all you can afford, but you do try to improve yourself. It just doesn’t work.

You hit ‘post’ and close the lid of your ancient laptop. It’s as thick as a book. The battery doesn’t hold a charge and the fan is as loud as a jet. You fall back onto your bed and look around your tiny room. That’s all you have. This space is as much as you can call your own and not really. You rent it, it can be taken away with one of those red stamped notices.

You yawn and drag yourself up. A whole shift and you didn’t bother to have more than the bland break room coffee spewed from the off-brand pod machine and a couple sticks of gum. Tia got herself sushi before her shift but she can just ask her parents to send her money to cover her Door Dash addiction.

You plod out to the kitchen. Your sister closes the fridge and cracks the tab of a beer can. You’re sure it isn’t her first.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Shea bobbles her head.

Funny since Donna pretty much hollered at you for interrupting her TV show. You all pitched in on the flat screen yet it’s never your turn with it. You shrug and go to the cupboard. It’s not sushi but the spicy shrimp ramen isn’t too bad...

“You work?” You ask.

“Pfft, no. Didn’t I say I was going to lunch with Mason?”

“Did you?” You take down at bowl. She probably did. You never remember. She’s always got a date or a party or a fall back. If she can’t make rent, she’ll smile a cute guy and get some money.

“He bought me some shoes! You’ll never believe.”

“Right,” you try not to seethe.

You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel. You’re eating sodium-laced noodles and holding back tears against old people wanting to print out their life story from a corrupt PDF. She’s pretty. She doesn’t have to try. Shea is all the proof you need that some people are just lucky.

You put the electric kettle onto boil and the smell of burnt—something makes your lip curl. You pop the lid and look inside. It’s brown. What the hell?

“What’s wrong with this?” You ask as you flip off the switch.

“Donna!” Shea yells, “what did you do to the kettle?” No answer. Your sister hollers again.

A door swings open and Donna stomps out with a huff. Her face is green as she has a mask spread over it and eye masks pasted beneath her lashes.

“I’m getting ready--”

“The kettle stinks,” you reach for a pot and find none. They’re all stacked and waiting to be washed. You snatch one off the top and flip on the faucet.

“Oh, I heated up some bone broth in it. I’m doing a cleanse,” she smirks. “Tasted kinda weird.”

“Bone broth?” You scoff. See. You try, they can’t even clean dishes. “Great.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, just rinse it out,” Shea says.

You scrub the pan and ignore her. You glance up as she slurps noisily from the can. Pre-drinks. Her and Donna are going out. Again. They can afford to because they don’t buy their own drinks. They don’t need to. You went out with them once and paid for all of your own, even though you’d have been happy enough with a single round.

“Have fun,” you dry out the pan and slam it on the burner.

“Jeez, maybe you should loosen up?” Donna chides.

“Yeah, come with us. Dance it out,” Shea drawls.

“No thanks,” you twist the knob and light the burner. “I have work tomorrow.”

“Call innnnn,” Shea insists.

“I can’t,” you sniff and step back to wait for the water to boil.

“Boring,” she chirps.

“Yep, I am,” you cross your arms. Your annoyed. When the go out, you’ll have to clean up this mess. You can’t handle another bout of fruit flies.

You put the noodles in and let them soften. You stir in the oil and powder then retreat to your room with the bowl of boiling cholesterol. You let it cool and put a video on your phone. You don’t want to think.

You eat deliberately. You savour the processed flavouring. You can’t go out sneak a midnight snack; Donna ate all your cookies. You label all your stuff in thick marker and she apparently can’t read.

You hear them leave. They’re loud. They leave the television on. At high volume.

You go out and shut it off. You need to sleep soon. Opening always comes after a late shift. Otherwise, how else would the corporation keep you disempowered.

You open your laptop. You’ll but on some lo-fi while you charge your phone. Heck, the fan is like white noise on its own.

The little red number at the bottom of the page stops you. You left the browser open. Someone actually responded to your post. You click and your stomach drops as you read the first sentence.

‘Sounds like you cause a lot of your own problems. Maybe try some mindful exercises and get out more. You should also consider making some friends.’

You read it over and over. You’re angry. Hurt, too. But most that first thing. You can’t stop from replying.

‘You got all that from me venting? I wasn’t asking for advice. I walk to and from work and I have friends.’

It’s mostly true. You do walk. Most days. And your sister is a friend, isn’t she? By association, so is Donna.

Before you can look up your favourite twelve-hour lo-fi, another notification pops up.

‘Looking at your post history, your diet could use some improvements. More veggies. And walking is a good starting point but you need to increase your endorphins. I’d be happy to send you some helpful guides. They’re easily searchable on the internet. We live in the age of information, you should consider taking advantage of that.’

Wow, what an asshole. He’s smug and obviously better than you. You click on his username and scroll through. Just as you expect. He posts in fitness communities. Not any videos of him but sharing tutorials and recipes for high-protein smoothies and fibre-laced juices. He wouldn’t know flavour if it puked in his mouth.

You his ‘esc’ and go back to your own post; ‘thanks for the advice. Have a good one.;

That’s it. You’re not arguing with some faceless douche on the internet. His response is as quick as the first.

‘A helpful link.’ He hyperlinks the words. ‘You should at least stretch in the morning and go outside on your breaks at work. You might work long shifts but it’s no excuse to be lazy. If you’ve been in that role for so long, you should have more than enough references to move on to something that doesn’t make you miserable.’

You don’t answer. You know if you do, you’ll just embarrass yourself. Judging by the few pics of his real life and his cadence, he’s got everything. He just thinks it’s a matter of mindset. There can’t possibly be anything else which could make things more difficult for people. You just don’t work hard enough. Duh, everyone always says so.

You close out of the page. If he replies again, you’ll block him. Simple as. You put on a lo-fi track and dim the screen. You roll over and tuck into bed. You fall asleep in a ball of stress; you have to wake up, shower, do all that human stuff, then make yourself face another eight hours of hell.

⭐

“I hate working at the fucking copy desk,” you hiss as you take your bag from the cubby in the break room. “Good luck.”

Darcy gives you a look as she sits at one of the tables, waiting for her shift to start. You grit your teeth as you should your purse and grip your jacket tight. You punch your employee number into the clock then head out.

As you march down the aisle of toner, a customer tries to stop you. “I’m off duty.”

“But I need a keyboard.”

You ignore them and keep going.

“I’m going to tell a manager, young lady!”

You don’t care. Besides, why are they looking for a keyboard in the toner aisle. The signs above with the giant letters clearly show that the computer accessories are in the opposite corner.

People are stupid. They might be able to read, technically, but they definitely lack comprehension. Just like Donna who can’t keep her hands off your snacks.

You walk home in a simmer. If you let your temper get away from you, you won’t be able to hold back when you walk into the inevitable shit show waiting for you at home. Shea and Donna hungover, probably having got into more of your sparse groceries, and amidst a brand new mess for you to tidy. You won’t not this time.

You have a mission. Go to your room and don’t come out.

As you enter your building, you find the elevator non-responsive. A tiny post-it is stuck to the doors. ‘Out of Order’. Couldn’t have made something a bit more legible?

You take the stairs. The hallway smells like onion and dirty clothes. You take out your keys as you get to your door, ignoring the rabble coming from the apartment next to yours. Before you can get your key in the slot, the door opens.

“Heyyyy, she’s back,” Shea greets. You blink at her in confusion. Is she already drunk again?

“Starting already?” You ask as you try to get past her.

“Hm, no,” she says tritely, “you have a guest.”

You roll your eyes, “don’t be a bitch, alright?”

“No, really,” she grins. You stop and look her up and down. She isn’t falling apart like usual after a Friday night. Her hair is done, her makeup too, and she’s not in her sweats.

“Is it mom?” You whisper.

She snorts, “you’re stupid. No, it’s your friend. Steve.” She backs up with a shimmy, “I think some people call him Captain.”

You make a face. What?

“Who...”

“Ahem,” a figure appears by the corner of the kitchen counter, “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

You crane to see over Shea’s shoulder. The man behind her is tall. And familiar. Steve Rogers. Your expression contorts as your lashes flutter in confusion.

“Not at all, Stevie,” Shea spins, “I’ll give you two the room. So nice to meet you.”

She squeezes by him and touches his forearm as she does. He doesn’t react. She giggles and flits off. Her door shuts but you can tell that the latch didn’t catch. She’s listening.

“Should we go outside? Get some sun?” He asks.

You glance at him again. You’re lost.

“Do I know you?” You grimace.

“After all day under fluorescent, you should really get out--”

“I-- I’m sorry, can you slow down and explain--”

“Outside. Privately,” he says.

You peek past him then look into the hallway behind you. You search your mind for an explanation. The only place you know him from is the internet or a history book.

“Like I said before, going outside can really help with mood issues.”

You hesitate and your mouth falls open. It can’t be...

“Was that you? Last night?” You shake your head.

“How about I buy you a smoothie?” He offers.

You snap your mouth shut. He can’t be serious. This can’t be real.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #captain's orders #captain america #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #avengers

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months ago

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✨Saving What Was Lost Part 5: Friday Night In✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I love this story so so much, and this chapter was the best to write 🥹 Joel is so soft for reader 😭 I can’t wait to bring you more of their slow burn journey 🩷

Chapter Summary: It’s just a misty November Friday night in, but Joel’s spending it with you as a movie night.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 5.3k

Chapter Tags: Soft! Joel, protective! Joel, a little angst, lots of fluff and yearning, slow burn, Joel and reader have a movie night, lots of feelings, dual POVs, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Joel is in his late 40’s)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s just a casual Friday evening in Austin, one where you’re curled up on the couch and Joel’s on the opposite one adjacent to you. It’s become kind of a normal thing, maybe even something you’re comfortable with. Except this time you’re not reading a book, and he doesn’t have a newspaper or his phone in front of him. This time, the flat screen tv is flickering to life in front of you while the fire crackles and pops in the living room. This time, it’s a movie night. Something that he suggested to you first.

“Why don’t you pick something out? Whatever you like.” He pushes the sleek black remote toward you on the coffee table, and you reach out and take it carefully.

You slowly thumb through the movie channels, taking your time to read over and assess each title that comes up on the glow of the screen. Some are brand new, ones you’ve never heard of, but a lot of them are movies you’ve seen once upon a time ago.

You’ve been wondering what kinds of movies Joel’s into. He’s not usually the type to sit down and watch something. Not that you’ve seen, anyway. Sure, you’ve seen him click through the news a few times, maybe to see the weather report, but you’ve never seen him really sit down to indulge in any sort of show or movie. You wonder if he’s ever been into that.

You love movies. Movie nights used to be your favorite thing in the world. It used to be your safe place amongst the chaos at home. A place where you could hide and disappear into the screen for a few hours to escape the noise. You wonder if Joel ever does that when his job gets rough. He needs his own escapes too from the horrors he sees from his line of work. You wonder what brings Joel Miller peace. You have a feeling it used to be his guitar. The one he never plays anymore…

Going back up the list, you pause when you see Gone with the Wind. That was always one of your favorites. One you’d keep going back to. You’d play it so many times that the DVD player eventually quit reading the scratched-up disk. It’s been such a long time since you got to watch it. So, so long.

“You wanna watch that one?” Joel asks from the other leather couch.

You tap your thumb against the edge of the remote, nervously looking at him as if he’ll walk right out of the room if you say yes. It’s a romantic movie. Joel won’t want to watch that, would he?

“Yes, if that’s okay with you. You can tell me if you don’t want to.” You flick your eyes back to him, watching as he leans back against the leather, one leg thrown over his knee, big arms crossed over his chest, pulling at the red flannel he has on. But he’s not frowning, he’s smiling.

“Sweetheart, I told you I’d let you pick. We can watch whatever you want. If you wanna watch Gone with the Wind, then that’s what we’ll watch. I meant it when I said whatever you want.” His kind brown eyes say the same. Whatever you want.

You pull the wool blanket over your lap and click on the title, hovering over the play button as Rhett and Scarlett appear on the main menu. You glance back over to Joel and ask him once more, “You sure?”

“Positive,” he answers automatically.

“Okay then, Gone with the Wind it is.” As you tap on the start button, the movie comes to life instantly, playing back that old theme song that’s been ingrained in your brain all these years. A little spark of joy ignites in your mind. It’s like you’re back in your old bedroom, having a movie night with just yourself. Except now you have Joel.

“Ya know, this isn’t my first time watchin’ this.”

Your head snaps in his direction at his response. “You’ve watched this before?”

“Once or twice,” he chuckles.

“Twice?” you gawk, mouth open as if he just said pink was his favorite color.

“What?” he laughs. “A guy can’t watch romance movies?”

“Oh, no. Of course they can. I just didn’t pin you as a romantic movie type.”

He shrugs and smiles. “Well, guess there’s still some things you don’t know about me, sweetheart.”

“Guess you’re right.” Your eyes fall back on the colorful screen as the opening scene takes place. But you can’t quite shake what he just said.

After a few minutes of silence, except for the crackle of the fireplace and the voices on the screen, you say something a bit out of character. “I’d like to know.”

“Hmm?”

You clear your throat and faintly turn your head toward him, afraid if you look him dead in the eyes you’ll chicken out. “I umm… I’d like to get to know you more, I mean.”

He gives you an easy smile, one that tugs at the corners of his lips and makes his eyes sparkle. It makes your heart stop for a second. “That can be arranged, angel.”

Angel. There’s that nickname again. One that sends your heart soaring out the window.

You turn back to the tv and readjust your position, pulling your knees against your chest and biting down on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. God, you hope you’re not blushing. You’re definitely blushing.

You’re not just falling for Joel Miller. You’re crashing and colliding into the unknown. Forget airbags, they’d be no use to you now. He’s… perfect.

As Scarlett flashes across the screen, Joel scoots to the edge of the couch, grabbing your attention. “You want some popcorn?”

“Only if you put extra butter on it for me.”

He chuckles a breathy laugh and shakes his head. “How’d I know you were gonna ask for that?”

Shrugging your shoulders innocently, a shy smile curls across your lips. “Guess you just read me well.”

He ticks his jaw and stares at you a second, a look like he is reading you. You don’t know why, but it makes butterflies flit through the pit of your stomach. “That I do. And ‘course, extra buttery popcorn comin’ right up for you, sweetheart. Let me go get it started.” He exits the room, taking his woodsy scent with him.

You fiddle with your bottom lip, focusing back on the colorful scenes on the screen, but all you’re really thinking about is how Joel is in the other room, making popcorn for the two of you. Going as far as getting you extra butter. But he’s always like that. Always going that extra mile to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of.

He’s an acts of service kind of man. You see that now. Not just with you but with everyone. Even with all the girls he’s saved or his daughter or just someone he cares about. And that in itself tells you enough. He’s kind and caring, more so than you ever expected him to be. And somehow, he still surprises you every day.

He slips back into the living room, two full glasses of water in hand, and then he’s setting one down on the coffee table in front of you. “Here ya go, sweetheart. Figured you’d need some water.”

You reach out to take a swig and give him a smile after you swallow. “Like I said. Always think of everything, don’t you?” He only chuckles and takes a sip from his own glass, and then he’s sitting against the back of the couch, just waiting for the popcorn to be done cooking.

A moment of silence slips across the room, only the low murmurs of voices floating through the speakers. You have this inkling in your chest to tell him something personal, something from your childhood. So, you do. “I used to love Friday nights. I’d always run home after school to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And then I’d stay up way too late watching old black and white romance movies. Sometimes I’d stay up the entire night and then pass out for half the day Saturday.”

He rakes a hand over his dark scruff, eyes falling back on you as he chuckles. “Buffy the Vampire Slayer, huh? Sarah used to beg me to buy her the DVDs.”

“Well, she’s got good taste.”

He stretches his arms behind his head, adjusting his position on the leather. One leg crossed over the other, completely at ease in his own house. “Wasn’t half bad a show, actually.”

“It was the best,” you confirm.

He takes a good look at you, stretching his smile wider as one of his hands laces through his tousled locks. “So, you really like movies then?”

“Mmm. I guess you could call it a safe haven. At least, it was for me.” You pause for a minute, watch his eyebrows knit as he registers the pain behind your eyes. “Mom and dad used to fight a lot. Sometimes all day long. So I kinda fell into a habit of locking myself in the bedroom with the tv turned up loud enough where I couldn’t hear them. It was either that or stay at a friend’s house.”

He watches you carefully, his jaw twitching while he thinks before he speaks. “M’sorry ‘bout your parents, sweetheart.”

You brush it off like it’s nothing. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

“I’m also sorry for how you lost them,” he says slowly, like he’s watching you walk across a frozen lake that might open up and swallow you whole.

Your eyes drop to the leather couch, fingers flexing around the warm wool blanket. If you don’t hold on to something, you might just fall through that icy lake that’s now cracking beneath you. “I lost them way before they died. Like I said, I’m used to being alone. Or I was…” You fight to hold in the tears. Instead of letting them go, you swallow them down and act like they were never there in the first place.

Joel’s soft drawl makes you pull your eyes back up to him. And when you look into those caramel pools, you feel a sob get lodged in your throat. “Doesn’t add up to much, but you’ve got me now. Ya know, if you need me. You’re not alone anymore,” he murmurs quietly. You fear you’ll always need him now.

You force out a smile, giving him the best one you can conjure up when you feel like you’re in pieces. “And that means the world to me, Joel.” He smiles in response and lets his gaze shift back to the movie that’s playing across the flat screen.

Your imagination starts to tick in your mind, thoughts of Joel’s family suddenly flashing like a scene through the wires in your brain. Are his parents still around?

Darting your tongue across your bottom lip, you look back over his way and ask what’s on your mind. “Do you still see your parents?”

His fingers flex around the leather as he cautiously looks up at you. “My dad moved up to Colorado to start a tree farm a few years ago. I see him when I can, but it’s not often. Not like when he used to live here. He calls a lot, so we do talk frequently. But it’s been a few months since I’ve seen him. And my mom…” He pauses for a beat, and you don’t miss that sparkle of a held back tear shimmer in his eye against the muted lighting. “She… she died of cancer right before Sarah was born.”

The room is suddenly heavier as you digest the information, letting it hit you right in the heart where it hurts most. “Joel… I’m so sorry. That must’ve been an awful thing to go through.”

He nods slowly with heavy eyes. “It was. I really could’ve used her help with Sarah ‘cause her… Well, Sarah’s mom walked out on us about a month after Sarah was born.”

Your eyes blow wide, and there’s nothing you can say to take that kind of pain away. You’re stunned in place. How could anyone ever leave him?

Shifting in your seat, you give him your most sincere, apologetic look you can muster up. “Oh, that’s… Joel. I don’t even know what to say.”

He gives you a sad smile and shakes his head like he’s fine, but he’s not fine. You can see it deep in his brown eyes. “S’okay. You don’t gotta say anything. Happened a long time ago. And she never wanted to be a mother, so I should’ve known she’d do that. Still hurt like hell, but I was more torn apart for Sarah ‘cause she never got to have a mother, and she deserved one. She deserved a good mother.”

And Joel deserved someone that loved him right…

You pause and then whisper across the room, “If it’s any consolation, I think she has the best dad.”

“Best dad, huh?” he chuckles out with his head cocked in question. The little sparkle in his brown eyes makes your heart stop for a beat.

You nod in agreement. “The very best. Even though I haven’t met Sarah, I know you love her very much. And from what you tell me, I know she loves you more than life itself.”

A warm smile cracks over his lips. “She is my world, and I do love her more than anything. Guess she’s kinda kept me in one piece all these years. Her and Tommy...”

“She’s lucky then. Not everyone gets a loving father or just family in general.” Your eyes fall to the ground, locking on a tiny scratch that could have easily been missed by the naked eye. You just stare until your mind blurs together, until you forget exactly how badly your heart still hurts from your childhood.

Joel’s low timbre shakes you from past memories. Memories you don’t want to relive. “Sweetheart, I—” The faint beeping from the microwave interrupts his sentence, and you don’t dare let him finish.

“The popcorn’s done,” you breathe out, finally having the nerve to look up into those concerned pools of honey.

“Right…” He looks at you for a beat like he wants to say something else, but he leaves it alone, and then he pushes himself up with a grunt. “Be right back.” He disappears into the other room, leaving you alone with the flickering tv screen and the lit sandalwood candle in the middle of the coffee table.

You get lost in the scene, silently laughing at all the men trying to win Scarlett’s affection. You feel a little lighter, a little less sad than you were mere seconds ago. The cozy wool blanket seems to help ease it away.

It doesn’t take long to see Joel’s large figure reemerge in the living room. Butter and salt permeate through the air, feeding your hunger for a delicious movie snack. His large hand brushes past your knees and then he sets the bucket of fresh popcorn right in front of the coffee table for you. “Here ya go, sweetheart. Extra butter, jus’ like you like it.”

You flash a smile his way. “Thanks, Joel.” He gives you a nod as he falls back into the leather of the couch, getting comfortable with a glass of iced water and the comfort of the television.

Falling into a comfortable silence, you can’t help but keep a smile on your face as the movie plays on. This is actually the most relaxed since you’ve been here. It feels like a normal Friday night. No kidnappings, no auctions, no fears of being taken at any second. It’s just still and peaceful and warm. Like Joel’s big chocolate eyes.

As the movie goes on, you sneak a peek over at Joel, watching as he enjoys the film. His knees are spread wide, one hand perched on his thigh, the other resting comfortably on his cheek. He’s got a soft smile curved on his mouth, his eyes almost starry-like as pictures flick across the gold flecks in his eyes. He looks… happy, relaxed, like he’s enjoying this.

You get lost in the way his easy laugh floats across the room, get a bit dizzy as he laces his fingers through his salt-and-pepper locks. You’d like to do that one day, maybe. Run your fingers through his curls, let them sink and tangle around the dark strands. You’d like to try your luck when you’re brave enough. You guess you haven’t noticed before, or maybe you were too traumatized by fear. But right now, under the soft lighting of the living room, you realize he’s so beautiful. Inside and out. He’s perfect.

Joel breaks his contact from the tv and looks over in your direction. Like a mouse caught in a trap, you’ve just been caught red handed gawking at the very essence of him. Your cheeks flush red from being caught. Snapping your eyes right back to the television, you pretend you weren’t just caught in the spotlight. But there he is out of the corner of your eye chuckling under his breath. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to be found out.

A few moments later, the urge for more salty goodness draws you to the popcorn bucket. You reach over, eyes still on the lit-up screen, and just as you slip your hand into the bucket, your fingers meet the back of a strong, calloused hand. Gasping, you snatch your arm back and break the connection of warm skin on skin. “Sorry,” you say hurriedly, apologizing for the meet of hands.

He lets out a soft chuckle and reels his hand back, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth. “S’alright. I don’t bite,” he smirks. And just by the flash of that mischievous smirk, your cheeks are painted crimson once again.

You fall back into a comfortable silence, but you can’t seem to stop thinking about how warm his hand was. Calloused and rough, but it felt… good. You secretly hope your hands meet again. Maybe you’d let yours linger a little longer this time.

The deep sound of Joel clearing his throat makes you turn toward him. “Ya know, if you wanted to, we could make movie night a weekly thing.”

A hopeful smile stretches over your mouth. “You’d want to do that?”

He shrugs and grins. “Why not? I like movies and popcorn. And besides, I’m in good company.”

He’s in good company. He likes watching movies with you. He likes spending time with you. Wait. He likes spending time with you?

You let the thought churn in your head, letting it spin a few times to realize this is all real. You want to have movie nights with him. You want to spend more time with him. Maybe… maybe you like him too. “Okay. I’d like that a lot,” you smile just as you take a sip of cold water from your glass.

“Friday nights work for you?” he asks. “Or would another night be better?”

�� “Fridays are perfect.”

“Looks like it’s settled then,” he smiles, crossing his arms behind his head, comfortably glancing over at you. “I’ll write it on the calendar. Mark it in ink.”

Mark it in ink. Permanent ink.

Joel leans into the plush of the leather, legs spread comfortably, his palm gliding down the scruff of his beard. The tv flickers in the near distance, the fire crackling softly as warmth radiates through the open room.

When’s the last time he really sat down to watch a movie? Maybe when Sarah was back home.

His eyes trail over to you, not being able to help himself. His breath nearly catches when he sees the smile painted on your pretty mouth. Eyes wide and full of light as you watch the television with your soft blanket thrown across your lap. He’s never seen you look so… alive.

That’s it. That’s the word. You look so full of life, which makes a soft smile spread over his mouth, filling him with a warm fuzzy feeling buzzing in the base of his chest.

He loves to see it. Eyes sparkling like Christmas lights, hope saturated in your soft glow, hair thrown carefree across your shoulders. You. The perfect reflection of a bottle of hope.

He’s so soft. Soft like melted marshmallows overflowing in a cup of hot chocolate. And that little flutter he gets in his chest every single time he sees a faint hint of a smile meet your lips makes him lose his balance, makes his axis tilt just a little off center.

He’s just so fucking soft... for you.

Sighing, he lets his fingers drag slowly over his mouth as he watches you instead of the movie. Watching every turn of your head, every curl of your lips, every single fucking thing you do. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you. You’re just so… breathtaking. Not just that. He thinks you’re the most beautiful angel he’s ever seen.

So fucking beautiful…

He groans to himself, lets his head fall back so he can close his eyes and clear his racing mind. And through the thick fog, he finds his way back to you and your twinkling eyes. Finds the peace he needs to know you’re safe, you’re healing, and you’re going to be just fine one of these days.

For now, you’re safe and comfortable in the comfort of his space. One day you may drift away, might spread your gorgeous wings and fly far, far away. But deep down, he hopes you’ll stay.

Please, stay…

“Joel?” you call, your head turning to look over at him while the movie runs.

“Hmm?” he hums out, eyes looking into your sparkling ones.

“Thank you for watching Gone with the Wind with me.” The softest of smiles curls over your pretty lips, making his heart skip a beat.

He smiles over at you and falls a little more. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

He loves watching movies with you.

The end credits of the movie start rolling just as the clock strikes one in the morning. He rubs the backs of his hands over his eyes, fighting off a yawn as a wave of tiredness crashes against his body. Leaning forward, he pulls himself up and glances your way. “Sweetheart, that was—” He stops himself the second he sees you passed out, blanket up under your chin, soft breathing leaving your pretty lips.

A gentle smile spreads across his lips as if he’s seeing you in a new light. You’re so relaxed, so peaceful. No nightmares, no thrashing in your sleep. Just at ease. A calm serenity that surrounds you like a soft cloud.

Even though you look comfortable with your fingers curled around the wool blanket and your head pressed against the leather cushion, he really doesn’t want to leave you on the couch. You’d be more comfortable up in your own bed, tucked into your warm sheets.

He slowly makes his way over to you and crouches down to where he’s eye level with you, gently brushing his palm against your shoulder. “Sweetheart?” he asks quietly, hating to wake you up from a deep sleep.

“Hmm?” you groan out, curling yourself into a ball as you tuck the blanket into the crook of your neck, too tired to open your eyes all the way.

“You fell asleep,” he says, voice low so he doesn’t disturb your peace.

“What? No,” you shake your head, eyes still half closed, denying that you fell asleep. ”I saw the whole thing.”

He chuckles and cards a hand through his tousled locks while he tries not to think about how adorable you’re being right now. “Afraid you fell asleep somewhere in the last half,” he says, remembering how you kept dozing off little by little as the clock got closer to midnight.

“I was still watching,” you pout with a puffy lip as you let out another tired yawn, stretching your arms like a napping cat.

Christ. You’re adorable.

“Oh, still watching, hm? Then how come your eyes were closed?” he chuckles softly.

You grab for the remote but miss it by mere inches. “Just turn it back on. I’ll watch what I missed.”

He clicks his tongue and grins from ear to ear. “Nuh-uh. It’s late. There’s always tomorrow.”

“But I’m not tired,” you whine out, pouting your lips as your eyelids flutter closed.

Such a sleepy girl.

“Oh, yes you are,” he laughs, his voice bouncing off the walls as it ricochets and floats right back to him, making another giant grin curl over his mouth.

When did you become so… cute? Yeah, that’s what you are. Cute. Playful. Adorable.

“But I…” You try to protest, but he stops you before you can finish.

“C’mon, sleepyhead. Let’s get you up to bed.” He scoops you up in his arms safely, holding you carefully so he doesn’t shatter or break you. He would never do that. Won’t even register the thought in his mind. You’re fragile, delicate like a flower, but he’ll always be so careful with you. Just like this. Right in his arms. As long as you’ll let him.

You don’t try to push away from him, you just let yourself fall into warmth. You just sink against his broad chest, let your dainty fingers curl into the cotton of his flannel, your face nuzzling snuggly into the crook of his neck. There’s no hesitation, no ounce of fear. Maybe you’re too tired to process his arms around you, hugging you like a thick jacket against his body. Or maybe it's because you’re starting to trust him, starting to see he really doesn’t want to hurt you. But maybe it’s because you just feel safe like this. Tucked against the body of a man that risked his life to save yours. Or maybe it’s because you don’t want him to let you go just yet. No. Maybe you’ll stay just like this. Your face tucked away into the collar of his flannel shirts that smell like him, pinewood scent surrounding you and covering you like a thick blanket you just don’t want to let go of.

So you stay. For now, you latch on like a magnet and let yourself drift to sleep. Because this feels good. This feels right. And in the thick haze, you let him hold you. Just this one time. Just for the moment. Because he feels like he was made to hold you just like this.

Joel tiptoes up the winding steps, careful not to jostle you awake, afraid he’ll disturb this guarded moment. Scared he’ll rustle you away from the peaceful slumber you’re in.

Carefully stepping down the dark hallway, he quietly opens your bedroom door and carries you to your comfy bed. With his arms folded like wings around you, he holds you close to his chest, guarding you with his life to make sure you feel safe. No more monsters to steal your soul. No more grabbing hands that lash and bite at you with razor-sharp fangs. No more slipping into darkness while they take what isn’t theirs. No more taking advantage of the delicate flower who lost all her vivid petals. Petals you’re slowly growing back.

He takes one hand and pulls back the purple comforter, untangling your silky sheets while he keeps one flexed arm around you. When he makes enough space for you to slip in, he gently nudges your shoulder to let you know you’re back in your room, and you have to let go.

He doesn’t want to let you go. Not just yet, but he can’t be selfish. Can’t keep you to himself.

Your slow breaths blow against his neck, fingers lock tighter around his favorite flannel. It’s like you don’t want to let go either.

“Gotta let go, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear, careful again not to disturb you. But you don’t jar awake, only fold tighter into the crook of his neck till your light breaths kiss the shell of his ear.

He sighs and carefully untangles you from his arms, gently laying you down into the safety of your bed. He chuckles quietly to himself when your hand still doesn’t register to let go. So slowly, unwantedly, he delicately pries your fingers from his shirt and places your hand softly on the bed. He already misses the warmth of your palm, misses the way you oh so carelessly just folded your weight into him.

He thinks he likes that. Holding you in his arms where you’re safe, where you’d be out of reach from anyone that wanted to hurt you. He thinks he could hold you forever just like that. If you were ever his, he would until you told him to stop.

God. How could anyone have hurt you? You’re so… precious. Just like a gemstone. So delicate and rare and special. So just like the most unique diamond in the world, he’ll make sure you stay safe.

He lingers on the edge of the bed, carefully tucking the blanket up over your shoulders, making sure you’re warm and comfortable. He watches you turn ever so slightly his way, but your eyelids don’t flutter open. You just hum softly and fall back into whatever peaceful dream you’re having.

Without thinking, he gently grazes the tips of his fingers against a lock of your hair, feeling how soft and velvet-like it feels against the pad of his thumb. He ever so slowly slips the lock of hair behind your ear, letting the back of his knuckles graze your cheek as he takes in the faint blush of your skin.

“You’re so beautiful…” he silently whispers, the words floating effortlessly off the tip of his tongue as he stares in awe at the stunning angel that’s safe in his presence.

He stays like that another few seconds, until he finally pushes himself off the bed and makes his way to the door, his eyes on you the entire time he moves.

Beautiful… you’re so fucking beautiful.

He said he’d never fall for one of the women he saved. That was never his intention, but what’s this? Sweeping back a piece of your hair, lingering his fingers on your smooth skin, telling himself how stunning he thinks you are, praying you won’t get out of bounds of him.

It’s like a slow burn candle, flame flickering in and out against the wind rushing in from the crack in the window. Wax slipping down the wick, the flame still burning bright while the air tries to blow it out till it’s nothing but smoke and memories.

That’s what this is. A slow burn of feelings that’s threatening to snap any day now. He’s getting attached, and he doesn’t know if he can stop them from growing into something he can’t control anymore.

He should pull the reins back, stop whatever this is that’s starting to ignite between the two of you, but he can’t seem to blow out the flame. He can’t seem to stop wanting you…

Maybe it’s the way you wear his flannels around the house, or maybe it’s the shy smiles and the way you nervously flutter your long eyelashes at him when you try to hide your gorgeous smile, maybe it’s even the way you make this house feel more like a home instead of an empty nest. You make him feel not so alone, and your company is something he doesn’t want to lose.

He doesn’t want to lose you… So maybe you’ll stay. He hopes you’ll stay. For as long as possible. Because if you choose to leave, which you probably will one day, he’ll surely lose a piece of himself the day you do.

Stay. Please… just stay.

Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra

@whxtedreams @sawymredfox @sanarsi @mountainsandmayhem @bitchytimetravelqueen

@southernbe @katinasweeney @pixelspunk @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@christinamadsen @aurorawritestoescape @evolnoomym @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn

@inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @fandomdaydreamer @elliaze

@callmecath1 @kulekehe @yorkshirewench @untamedheart81

@tateypots @stylesispunk @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @mellymbee @pascalsbae

@locaparapedrito @ladyofmidlo72 @readingiskeepingmegoing @copperhalfcent @axshadows

@here-briefly @cozylittlepigeon @pastawench @keylimebeag @joelsoftie

@romanarose @captainredspade @megangovier @bishtrouille @almodovarispunk

@papipascaaaal @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @bambisweethearts @puddles221b

@valkyreally @northennlights

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel x female reader #joel miller tlou #soft!joel miller

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sobbingscripter · 18 days ago

Text

Tags: [mlw][mdni][friends to lovers][oral (m! receiving)][couch sex][fingering][spit][deep throat][touching through clothes][anal play][leash][just the tip]

Kyle doesn't wanna admit he's having a good time, spending his Valentine's Day with his best friend instead of a romantic partner.

You're lounging lazily on the sofa beside him, attention on the screen of the TV while you munch absentmindedly on the snacks that are littered across the surface of the mahogany coffee table, your head resting on the armrest while your feet remain nestled in Kyle's lap while he massages the arch of your foot.

You're playing some stupid romcom. One of many that you found on some Pinterest list, and you're forcing him to watch it with you.

"Honestly, if I was her, and I found out I was part of a bet, I'd have set his hair on fire." Kyle comments offhandedly, his pudgy thumb brushing over where the frilly edge of your sock fails to hide the soft skin of your legs.

"His hair looks a little wet, though." You murmur with a hum. "I don't think it'd catch fire quick enough."

"It could be gel?" Kyle suggests. "Some hair gels are flammable."

"Nuh uh." You disagree with a huff, reaching over and grabbing your phone from the coffee table, before you open your Google, and your fingers fly across the keyboard at a speed that would be impressive if Kyle didn't know about your damn near crippling masturbation habits.

He knows you don't even do it because you're horny. You just get bored and you like to fidget with things.

"Yes, some hair gels can be flammable, particularly cheaper brands, so it's important to check the label and avoid using any gel that explicitly states it is flammable; if you're unsure, consult the product information or manufacturer." You read, your attention on the screen of your phone before you toss it aside, discarding the device.

"I thought because it's like... Wettish, it can't catch fire." You state with a hum, shoveling a handful of potato chips into your mouth and you chew, simply grumbling in annoyance when Kyle swipes his palm over your mouth to get rid of the crumbs.

"You know, gasoline is pretty wet. So is oil." Kyle mocks you, leafy gaze twinkling with amusement at the sight of your narrowing eyes.

"Technically, the human brain can't perceive wet, only cold." You respond, almost defensively and you feel the way his thumb digs into the arch of your foot, the sensation making your toes curl and a ticklish snort to leave you.

"That's bullshit." Kyle groans. "Where'd you even learn that? YouTube shorts?"

"Just because it's YouTube shorts, doesn't mean it isn't informative."

"Google it then."

You type, eyes narrowed and muttering profanities under your breath.

"The answer is no. Humans don't have receptors to perceive wet and instead, use the receptors of temperature and touch to create the illusion of 'wetness'." You read with ease, before letting out a snort of victory.

"Whose article is that?"

"Live Science dot com."

"See? If it doesn't come from Bill Nye's mouth, I don't believe it." Kyle dismisses you, his arms crossing over his chest and you groan.

"Shut up, and play with my feet."

Kyle continues to play with your feet, thumbs pressing onto the pads of your toes through the socks and he groans.

"Oh God, she's reading a poem about him now?"

"Kyle, you're ruining the movie."

"She should just kick his ass and get a move on. We're watching Monsters Inc after this."

"She can't kick his ass, Kyle. She's feeling complex emotions about how he makes her feel. It's not that simple, Kyehl."

There's a silence in the room before Kyle lets out a snort.

"Did you just call me 'Kyehl'?" Kyle questions you, amused, and his inky brow raises, tawny cheeks dimpled and the apples of his cheeks rise.

"Whatever, Kyehl. Just watch the movie."

Kyle lets out a huff of laughter, before his hands move higher, massaging the fatty flesh of your calves, fingertips digging into the muscle and pressing on the spots below your knees.

Before his digits lightly trace absent minded patterns on the backs of your knees, teasing the sensitive skin while his attention is completely on the screen. And you swallow, shifting a bit closer to Kyle and you can't really do anything about the way your thighs spread a bit more.

It's a tense, teasing game, entirely silent other than the sounds of romantic music that plays from the apartments around you, and the sounds of the movie playing. But neither of you are focusing on the movie.

Both just... Pretending.

His fingers trace patterns up your inner thighs, supple skin soft beneath his touch and Kyle's fingers ghost over the cleft of your cunt, the cotton shorts clinging to your flesh and goddamn, he loves that you don't wear panties after an everything shower.

Kyle listens to the way your breath hitches, and he keeps touching you.

Trying to test the waters as his thumb brushes over your folds, circling over where he assumes your clit should be and he knows it's there when your bottom lip finds solace between your teeth, brows twitching and cheeks tinting into a reddish hue.

And you swallow.

Hard.

Thighs spreading even wider, forcing the heart-printed shorts to shift, giving Kyle the most lovely peek at your smooth, glistening cunt. And he swallows.

Dragging his middle finger down your leaking slit before carefully slipping his digit into you, his hand shifting palm up and he crooks his finger, brushing against that gooey spot that makes your toes curl and your hips tilt in that salacious way.

Neither of you are focusing on the movie and it isn't long before the credits are rolling and Kyle's bodies looming over yours, his fingers fucking into your gooey cunt and your manicured nails are digging into his forearms.

"Shit, you're so good with your fingers..." You breathe out, your chest heaving and your eyes flitting between Kyle's, and his hand, the muscles in his wrist tensing with each pump of his fingers and you whine softly, keening into his touch.

"Yeah, I'm good with a lot of things." Kyle whispers softly, leaning over you and his lips press against yours in a sloppy, messy kiss. Your lips feel so soft against his. Pillowy and lush, melting perfectly against his mouth as your fingers rake through his hair, desperation causing your hips to move, trying to take his fingers deeper.

Harder.

Faster.

"You wanna show me what you're good at?" He offers you so sweetly, and you can't deny him. Not when his knuckles are kissing your slick and puffy pussy so gently, and definitely not when his tongue is tracing your ear.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋❤️་༘🎀˚˖𓍢ִ🌹˚.

"Fuck, how did you get so good at this?"

Kyle's barely keeping it together, his lashes fluttering with each heavy breath he lets out, his eyes locked on the sight of you with his cock buried in your mouth.

Your head bobs rhythmically, your eyes on his as you stare up at him through fluffy lashes and your lips are wrapped around him so sweetly, your tongue moving against the sensitive veins on the underside of his shaft.

And Kyle whines.

"Those fucking eyes." He pants, fingers threading through your hair before ultimately fisting at the crown of your head, and he forces your head down, encouraging you to take him all the way to the back of your throat and kyles head tips back against the sofa.

His hips jerking upwards to meet your throat, soft tissue wrapping around him like a wet and cozy glove, your nose tickled by dustings of dark hair and your bottom lip has drool and precum trickling down it.

"You're so pretty." Kyle's thumb brushes a stray tear away from your eye, the sensation of holding your breath for too long is getting to you and you nearly choke before Kyle lets you come up for air. And you pant, thick, nearly opaque saliva, dribbles down your chin in thick, slimy frothy gossamers and you groan, using your saliva as you wrap your hand around Kyle's cock, pumping him as you lick at his swollen head.

This has been his fantasy for so long.

Seeing you with your knees digging into the carpet, your eyes tearing and lashes wet with unshed tears, your lips glossy and spit-covered, and your saliva dripping down his cock like how water splashes down the sides of a glass too full.

And it's accurate.

He's too full.

Heavy and full balls press against your bottom lip as you swallow him, allowing Kyle to feed you cock like he's always wanted and he groans loudly, head falling forward before you come up for air.

"Fuck, you're so slutty for me." Kyle whines, his lashes fluttering and his fingers dig into either side of your face, cupping your chin and leaning forward to press quite literally, the hottest kiss against your lips.

He can taste himself of your tongue but that doesn't stop him from sucking on the wet muscle, nipping at your bottom lip before he straightens up, carding his fingers through his hair.

And he swallows, chest heaving.

There's no fucking way he wants you this bad. His cock's twitching, weeping beads of precum that lather his cock alongside your saliva and he tries to figure out when you got this hot.

When you became his walking wet dream and he hits a blank. Before taking another deep breath.

"Get on the couch and bend over." Kyle instructs, his voice breathy and a low husk that makes your cunt throb needily, slick clinging to the fabric and making it translucent enough for Kyle to see your pretty pussy when you bend over, still in your shorts.

And God, is it pretty.

Pretty, slick folds, puffy pussy lips and a slit that just doesn't stop oozing for him.

And Kyle shifts, positioning himself behind you as he drags the tip of his cock against the fabric, nearly fucking the cotton into you with the way he teases your needy, neglected hole.

Before he lets out a sigh.

"I can't stick it in." He cards his fingers through his hair, although, his hips are grinding against yours, his cock nestled in the crease of your fleshy globes, fabric moved to the side and he stares at you with pure need.

Pure desire.

"Huh..?" You whimper softly, looking up at Kyle over your shoulder, only to find him staring at you like you're the prettiest fucking thing he's seen in a good long while.

Admiring every part of you.

Creamy, fat mounds, pillowy thighs and a pretty pussy.

But right above it, is a pretty furled rim, pulsing for him and he spits down the crevice of your ass, enjoying the way your back arches and Kyle's thumb traces the rim sweetly, attentively and he swallows.

"How about here?" He asks softly, slipping his thumb past the right muscle, feeling the way you clench down on him. So nervous, so hesitant and so fucking sexy.

"My... ass?" You think really long, and really hard before making an executive decision.

"Just the tip, okay?"

Kyle smiles at the rule, and his hand moves to fist his cock, readying it at your virgin hole, and his other spreads the fatty mound further away from the other.

Kyle's ring glows.

A bright, emerald light that twinkles so prettily before you feel a weight around your neck.

A fucking choke collar.

And Kyle sighs softly, his tip slowly stretching you out as he tightens his grip on your leash.

"Just the tip, yeah?"

Taglist:

@lucky-beheaded 🌻

@anesthesia-4rizzle 🎀

@feral010 ✨

@blckbarbiedoll 🌷

@custardpuddingprincess ⭐

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🦄

@theamazkngskye 🍄

@titchx0 🦆

@sl4y-s4turn 🪐

@queen-of-gotham 🦇

#sobbingscripter #dc comics #valentines day specials #valentines day #kyle rayner x reader smut #kyle rayner x you #kyle rayner x reader #dc kyle rayner #kyle rayner smut #dc comics x reader #dc comics smut #dc comics x reader smut #dc comics kyle rayner #green lantern #green lantern x reader #green lantern smut

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skeltnwrites · 7 months ago

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A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about this since I’ve been embracing my curls lately so to my curly haired friends enjoy!

Curly Hair!Reader x Eddie Munson Headcanons

(and just general headcanons about his hair)

Eddie is definitely going for the signature rocker hairdo with his long curls, but I don’t think he cares enough to go out of his way to take care of it

aka that frizz is not as intentional as he makes it out to be

That is until he met you, and you started leaving curly hair products in his shower and explaining the meaning of porosity to him over dinner

He’d be so jealous proud when you finally figure out a curl routine that works for you. When you show him the final product he’s hovering over you to inspect it closely, tugging at strands until they pop neatly back into place and questioning you about the lack of frizz

“This looks metal, babe!” You chuckle. “No, really! You look like you could be a backup for Black Sabbath!”

Y’all brush your teeth beside each other one morning while getting ready and his eyes flick between your curls and his and he begs you to help him

You try your products in his hair and he LOVES smelling like you. So much so that you catch him mindlessly bringing a handful of hair under his nose to sniff

If your conditioners and creams don’t work with his hair, you’d drag him to a beauty supply store to pick out some different products. He’d get distracted, shuffling through nail polish and eyeliner brands while you’re reading the ingredients lists

Shower time becomes very sacred in your household, often spending an hour plus in the bathroom washing, combing, and styling each others hair

He likely reverts back to just using your products after a while which are still a hell of a lot better than whatever drugstore three in one Wayne bought him before

I just know this boy sheds like a cat. Your bathroom is covered in hair no matter how much you both pick it up. You best believe Wayne is coming over once a month to unclog the drains

Also you find his hair ties everywhere

He read about the importance of protective sleep wear in a magazine and saw an ad for silk pillowcases on tv, then promptly ran to the mall to buy you matching ones

When your experimenting with new products and you ask for his opinion, he is not very helpful and will tell you it looks great either way, but you can’t fault him for it he just thinks you look pretty all the time 🥺🫶

His hair definitely gives him some level of confidence. You gave him his first haircut in like four years and he was very nonchalant about it, giving you full permission to do whatever. But once the dead-ends started piling around his feet, he started to get antsy, eyeing your every snip in the mirror

Trimming his bangs becomes as routine as grocery shopping. A pair of scissors are kept in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom for easy access

He gets a lot of knots between driving with the windows open and throwing it in the messiest bun after a gig. He asks you to untangle it most times

He’ll gladly trim your hair too (if you trust him lol)

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson headcanons #fluff

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steddielations · 1 year ago

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Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:

Part 1 | Character List

- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.

- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.

- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.

- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.

- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.

- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.

- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell

- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it

- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past

- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.

- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.

- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him

- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.

- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.

- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.

- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start

- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")

- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money

- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it

- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)

- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"

- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.

- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)

- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.

- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.

- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."

#eddie munson the nerd that you are #steddie writers eddie recites tolkien purposely to be annoying so write that down #these always get progressively sadder oh boy #eddie munson #flight of icarus #wayne munson #al munson #ronnie ecker #stranger things #i'm gonna do one more of all the places name dropped and then a deep dive into eddie's d word issues #mp

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months ago

Note

what do you think Jack's flaws are? I believe that one of them is that he tends to idealize people like Leona he doesn't see the unpleasant sides of people.

Real quick, wanted to thank @/tinyfantasminha for taking the time to share their thoughts with me + give me some ideas on where to look for supplemental Jack lore ^^

I won't be going out of my way to make a list of all his flaws due to the reasons cited in this post. However, I'm going to discuss the idea posed by this anon. I don't know if I'd phrase it as "[Jack] doesn't see the unpleasant sides of people". I actually think the contrary: Jack is often suspicious and unwilling to trust others. This is particularly true for Octavinelle (see: book 3, Jack Labwear vignettes, etc.), but also extends to the general student populace, as he prefers to work alone. Jack does have more leniency towards his Savanaclaw senpais, Ruggie and especially Leona, but they're exceptions and not the rule. I think Jack would ideally like to have honorable senpai to look up to, but ideals are very different than what life handed him. Additionally, I don't think Jack has a habit of idealizing (like Kalim or Silver, who are oblivious to red flags and/or choose to think the best of their peers) or idolizing others (like Sebek does Malleus), at least not to the same extremes as some of his classmates do.

Back to Jack’s feelings about his Savanaclaw senpai for a moment. He first saw Leona on TV before ever meeting the guy, so it’s very possible that Jack formed a parasocial attachment to him and projected his own just ideals onto this stranger. That’s not uncommon or unexpected behavior for a preteen or teenager, who’s still trying to get a sense for their own identity and their place in the world. When he actually meets Leona, Jack is then taken aback by reality being totally different than his expectations.

Though Jack claims to operate as a lone wolf, he respects and adheres to pact hierarchy very strictly. In his own dorm uniform vignettes, he expresses that he believes Ruggie is Savanaclaw’s second-in-command and goes out of his way to try and earn Ruggie’s trust. Even when Ruggie says it’s annoying or acts suspicious of his junior, Jack persists like a wolf on the hunt. And that’s the thing about Jack: he is stubborn, and that can lead to problems, especially if others are involved. In his attempts to help out Ruggie, he’s being overbearing. By trying to do everything on his own, he’s potentially shouldering more work and shutting his peers out. That’s part of Jack’s brand of NRC pride—all the students have it to some degree.

Jack’s real fatal flaw is that he’s too judgmental. I already mentioned earlier how he tends to be very suspicious of others, but Jack also has a tendency to see things “as they are” and is inflexible with his thinking. Like… he sees things as very face value. He sees Leona ordering Savanaclaw mobs to injure other students? Automatically goes, “that’s wrong!!” based on his own moral compass, doesn’t ask himself “why might they be doing this?”. He also assumes Leona is acting out of cowardice or just isn’t “trying hard enough”. This is a behavior Jack exhibits in other situations too. For example, he laughs when Leona talks about the honorable lessons he’s supposed to grant to the Sunset Warriors (implying he doesn’t see Leona as honorable). He calls Vil an “old man” when everyone returns from S.T.Y.X. He expresses surprise when people he thought were twigs at a glance (Silver, Azul, etc.) are actually muscular or are at least making efforts to bulk up. This all makes Jack come off as blunt or, at worst (unintentionally) callous or insensitive.

I know this is technically a post about Jack’s flaws, but I think it’s pretty admirable that he consistently apologizes when he’s wrong and tries to learn or to make up for it. He willing worked in the Mostro Lounge to replace Jade’s wood ear mushroom that he accidentally disposed of (Labwear vignettes). He realizes townsfolk find him physically intimidating so he tries to take customer service training to be friendlier (Port Wear vignettes). He tries to protect child!Vil but learns that Vil can protect himself. There are countless other examples—and for a first year, he is remarkably mature in genuinely owning up to his mistakes and striving to be better next time.

I guess I’ll leave you with that ^^ just so we can end this post positively!

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aaakikoo · 2 years ago

Text

Low effort scenarios with my favorite fictional man. Bakugou.

an -> low effort is what I do best lmao, I hope you enjoy this. I have alresdy done these with more effort put in them 😭 I’ll list some below.

here and here.

another an -> requests currently open, or if you want to send ideas, thirsts or suggestions feel free to do that too. Comments and rblogs r appreciated!

paring -> k.Bakugou x f!reader

warnings -> language, idk tell me if there is any other.

———

1. NOT SHARING HIS RAMEN WITH YOU

“Babe please just one bite” you said as the blond was slurping on his noodles. “Fuck off, get your own.”

“You made the last pack! I am not heading to the store for a packet of noodles!” You said in defense but he didn’t seem to care as he continued chewing.

“Babe please!” You held him by the shoulders as you whined further. “I said no.” He said taking another bite.

“Fine.” You huffed and sat your ass back down on the couch. after Bakugou had finished slurping and munching on his noodles he came and sat with you on the couch.

At first you didn’t pay him any mind until he made a mistake and placed his arm around your waist.

You quickly slapped his arm away. “I’m mad at you.” You said leaving the living room and heading to your shared bedroom.

On your way you heard him scoff but you didn’t care.

A few minutes later he came in to apologize but it wasn’t successful.

“Why do I have to apologize after eating something I ate, and paid for? Do I have to share everything with you.” He asked in annoyance.

“Well you could’ve gave me one singular bite!” You said in defense and he scoffed and left the room annoyed at your behavior.

About half an hour later he came in, this time you didn’t bother to look at him. He didn’t say anything either, he came in and picked you off of the bed.

“W-what? Hey, what are you doing??” You asked surprised, no answer. “Put me down!” Still no answer.

He walked downstairs and headed to the kitchen placing you on one of the island chairs.

“What are-“ you words were swallowed up as you saw what was in front of you.

“Stop being mad at me now okay?”

He had bought you more noodles, made them for you, cut you fresh vegetables to have with, seasoned it, and put chopsticks on the side for you to eat.

You didn’t replay, only offering him a little hidden smile as you began munching.

The man still sat across from you on the island. “Thank you. Best boyfriend ever.”

“Huge mood swing.”

2. BUYING FOR YOU

It was a Sunday afternoon and you were both chilling on the couch.

Tomorrow was your day off so you were in a good mood, scrolling on whatever expensive brands site, checking out their latest drops and most hottest items.

Also Bakugou told you he will be taking you out after his shift, by 7pm. So you were trying to see if you could make a steal for the date.

Currently, Bakugou’s eyes were glued on the tv and your eyes were glued on your phone.

The guy in the show Bakugou is watching had made a pretty funny joke and Bakugou looked down at you to see if you had catched that.

Instead he finds you eyeing a dark red pair of high pump heels. He saw you like it and add it to your list and he thought that was it.

He continued watching the series like nothing happened and you closed your phone and now focusing on the tv.

The next day you woke up to an empty bed like always when it is your day off, currently 9am and you headed down to make yourself breakfast.

After you had eaten you clean up a bit and chatted with your friends for a little. Until the doorbell rang and there was a mailman, delivering you a package and asking for your autograph.

You had told him that you didn’t purchase anything but he kept on insisting that this was the right address.

You took a look on the address and it was correct then you saw that it was bought with your boyfriends name. So you gave the mailman your autograph.

After you closed and locked your door you took the box into the living room. Wondering what your boyfriend could’ve possibly purchased. He always asks for your opinion before he purchases anything.

Curiosity got the best out of you and you opened the brown box, the box revealing another box inside. A more expensive looking one. Matt black box with golden letters from the expensive brand you were looking at earlier.

You opened the black box, now this time the box revealed a white stretchy bag, you opened the box and your jaw dropped at the sight.

The dark red pumps you were looking at yesterday. Before you could properly make up your thoughts your boyfriend messaged you.

[ wear em today ]

Is all he sent to you, you wondered how he knew that you had gotten them, then you remembered he gets a notification when a package is delivered.

Your heart was filled with warmth.

By 17:30 you started getting ready, quick shower, blowing your hair, picking your outfit. A long black silky dress and gold jewelry everywhere from your ears, wrists to your neck and fingers. Elegant makeup and your hair out up in a golden butterfly claw clip. Along with of course the new heels.

By 18:50 you received a text. Which meant to head outside. And so you did.

When you stepped outside you were met with your boyfriend dressed in black suit pants and a white dress shirt with a dark red tie to match his eyes and your new bought heels.

He greeted you with a hug and a kiss on your temple. “Thank you.” You said and pecked his lips.

“Nothing but the best for you.”

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fictional-twink-bracket · 2 months ago

Text

Round 1 Side B Poll 3

(PT: Round 1 Side B Poll 3)

Propaganda

(PT: Propaganda)

Babe

ok so I debated whether or not he is a twink, but like out of all the categories for gay men, he's probably closest to a twunk, which is a twink hunk so he's still a twink.

anyways time for the semi-cursed info and why he's the best! so you're on tumblr right? so I'm sure you know of omegaverse. well- did you know that there is a full length live action tv show that's explicitly omegaverse? and not some like c-list mini series or whatever, but fully produced show with known actors and a decent budget that included sponsors from brands and was released on a major streaming service and is now being re-edited for a theatrical release in theaters. this is on another level. but what is the show about and how is it omegaverse? well you see the show is about racecar driving first and foremost. but then there's Babe, the main character, who is a popular racer and also a super special alpha with special sensory enhancement powers. but that can be pretty overwhelming, especially before a race. so how does he solve this problem? well by getting railed by another alpha before each race of course! anyways he ends up with his alpha boytoy that he sticks to and then minutes after they start dating, his boytoy springs the mama/papa roleplay kink on him and now his boytoy is calling him mama all the time. which babe likes and indulges in and after all they're both alphas so it's not like he can pregnant right? wellllllll turns out that babe's shitty adopted father runs a whole human trafficking ring for special alphas like babe and also there's a whole plan to get babe pregnant by arranging it with another superpowered guy in order to make an extra superpower baby to sell for like a bunch of money and that was the underlying driving force behind the plot the whole time anyways yeah he still engages in the mama/papa roleplay. and also they're making a second season

(^One person)

Kuzco

I WANT THAT TWINK OBLITERATED!!!!

#fictional twink bracket #poll #round 1 #pit babe the series #babe pit babe #kuzco #emperor's new groove

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automaticenemytimetravel · 2 years ago

Text

Top 10 LED TV Brands In India

LED TVs uses LEDs (light emitting diodes) for its backlight source instead of cold cathode fluorescent lamps (see CCFL).

#Best LED TVs with Price in India #Top 10 Smart Tv Brands in India #List of Top 10 Best Smart TV Brands in India #Top 10 LED TV Brands in India #Best LED TV in India with Prices & Specs

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wip · 2 years ago

Note

just how many official tumblr blogs are there? i just recently found out that this one and changes exists which seems less than ideal

Hey, @limelocked!

Great question! We have, we hope, a great answer for you. First up is a comprehensive list of all of current active staff blogs.

You can find ’em by simply searching each name, + @, in the search bar. (i.e., @action)

@action: Highlighting Tumblr’s long-standing social justice priorities of racial justice, mental health, equality, and beyond.

@art Exploring and featuring original artists on Tumblr.

@artistalley: Supporting local artists on Tumblr by buying directly from their storefronts.

@artistpicks: Monthly curated experience by artists and creators on Tumblr.

@best-of-reblogs: A curated collection of some of the best reblog threads on Tumblr.

@bigweekon: Tumblr’s beloved podcast highlighting recent trends, memes, and more.

@blackexcellence: A showcase of things all Black, all excellent, past and present—literature, fashion, music, historical spotlights, and beyond.

@books: Exclusive interviews and curated content from authors, publishers, and book fans.

@changes: Your go-to for new Tumblr launches, bug fixes, and updates on platform.

@creatrs: A network that connects artists, makers, and builders with brands.

@emporium: The Official Blog of the Tumblr Shop™, run by Brick Whartley back from the Island.

@entertainment: Exclusive content and features from across TV, film, and streaming.

@engineering: Behind-the-scenes work on how Tumblr engineers build Tumblr.

@fandom: Home of Fandometrics, Tumblr’s weekly ranking of entertainment properties.

@fashion: Runways to streetwear and every style in between.

@featured: Featuring exclusive content from Tumblr’s many good, good blogs.

@gaming: Exclusive and curated content across mainstream and indie games.

@getloudr An in-kind ad donation program dedicated to amplifying marginalized voices.

@happytuesday: A blog dedicated to all our Tumblr Tuesdays, posts featuring users based on a weekly theme.

@humans: A blog we use so we can reply in the notes of various posts.

@kpop: Exclusive content and a curated experience of K-Pop on Tumblr.

@labs: A way for engineers at Tumblr to experiment in public.

@music: Exclusive content and features on all your favorite musical artists.

@postitforward: Supporting the community with resources for mental health, self-care, and wellness.

@prideplus: Your home for all things LGBTQIA+ on Tumblr.

@radar: Sharing four pieces of original posts from Tumblr artists per day, hand-curated by our team from across the globe.

@staff: The ultimate source for big news, platform updates, and everything that makes Tumblr, Tumblr.

@support: News, tips, and nerdy details from Tumblr Support.

@tee: A blog from your friendly neighborhood Tumblr user, Tee.

@todayontumblr: Daily curated content around trending topics on Tumblr.

@wip: Dedicated to feedback and questions from Tumblr users to Tumblr staff.

There’s more. For our global audiences, you can find all the localized Staff blogs. They’re linked here!

We also have a carousel in the feed somewhere called “Official Blogs,” but it might be that we need to make that more obvious or provide a dedicated feed or page somewhere.

Leave that last point with us, but we hope that helps! Thanks for your question, and have a good day.

(And a tip of the hat to you, @lizzieonka! Consider them tagged)

Best,

—Caragh, Cates, and Cyle

#editorial #blogs #wip speaks

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cierraonline · 4 months ago

Note

Missing the podcast real baddddd

EP 1 - No Mean Girl References! Does Billie Like Her Gf's Family? Kimora Has Short Term Memory! You Are The Asshole!

Chapter one : podcast episode #1

Warning: none

Masterlist | next chapter

"Hey you!" Kimora points to the camera, "Were you bored scrolling on TikTok, ended up on YouTube, and realized you have a 'TikTok bird ass brain' that can’t focus on one thing for more than ten seconds? Did you see this thumbnail and think, 'Oh, there’s that Kardashian girl; let’s stare at her face for ten minutes and theorize what plastic surgery she's had'? If so, you’ve come to the right place." Kimora stands straight, looking at the camera with a smile, giving her best five-star hospitality attitude. "Hi, I’m Kimora West, daughter of Kim Kardashian and Kanye West—but you may know them as ‘Culture Vulture Gold Digger’ and ‘That once-good producer before he went... you know, crazy.' I now have a podcast with my girlfriend of four years, Billie Eilish." Billie slides into view and does jazz hands.

"Hi, I’m Billie Eilish, singer, songwriter, and more importantly, her girlfriend," the now-brunette says her short n' sweet line.

"We hope you guys enjoy," Kimora smiles, tilting her head to the side. "Or don’t—we still get paid either way, thanks to YouTube."

XXX

"Sup,kisses and hugs! It’s Kimora, and today is Wednesday, so of course, we’re wearing pink," Kimora says, showing off her baby pink tee and hot pink textured sweatpants. "And over there we have Janis..." The camera slowly slides to the right, revealing Billie in an oversized black shirt and oversized jean jorts.

"Billie," Billie smiles, then turns to her girlfriend. "I thought we agreed on no 'Mean Girls' references."

"Asking me not to make 'Mean Girls' references is like asking me not to be me," Kimora states, before looking back at the camera. "First on the list, a fan question for Billie. Billie, your fan, billiecanslutmeout, wants to know: ‘Do you like the Kardashian family outside of Kimora?'"

"Skip," Billie shakes her head, not wanting to answer because she feels it’s confrontational and doesn’t want to risk upsetting her partner or attracting hate from the 'Kar-Jenner' fanbase.

"Nope," Kimora emphasizes the last syllable. "Answer."

"We’ve talked about this before," Billie begins, but Kimora cuts her off, giving a direct answer.

"She doesn’t like them and is currently in her head trying to find a way to sugarcoat it."

"I didn’t say that," Billie throws her head back, laughing.

"You literally made a song about it—'Overheated,'" Kimora squints her eyes.

"I... I love you and every luxury pink baggage that comes with you. I have love for your family because you’re a product of them. And you are my favorite person in the whole world," Billie says sincerely. "But as someone who promotes body positivity, I don’t support the negative body-image messaging that is part of your family's brand, and there's the constant need for relevancy and exposure, which I’ve developed my own opinions on from behind-the-scenes stories you’ve told me about filming for the TV show."

"Smart answer," Kimora nods. "Now, what about my dad?"

"I honestly think your dad hates me," Billie shakes her head.

"He doesn’t hate you," Kimora insists, knowing deep down that her father actually appreciates Billie’s positive influence on her.

"He literally posted on Instagram that if I didn’t apologize to Travis Scott, he’d cancel his Coachella performance, which led his fans to flood my accounts with hate. I never even mentioned Travis—I was just helping a fan at my concert!" Billie exclaims, eyes wide.

"Yeah, he did do that," Kimora nods awkwardly, acknowledging that her father had actually done it without provocation, putting both girls in a difficult position. For Billie, it was a choice between saying what she truly felt and risking being bullied off the internet by his fans—or staying silent to avoid hurting Kimora. For Kimora, it was about deciding who would get hurt: Billie or her father. "Sorry."

"It was hurtful, but I think you handled it well, especially since it happened in our first year of really being together," Billie reassured her. "Like, as soon as you found out what was going on, you called me while you were driving over with my favorite food to make sure I was okay and could sleep that night."

"I just didn’t want you to feel like…like you and your mental health weren’t a priority for me," Kimora struggled with her words, trying to explain her motivations. "Because I know how my dad can get, and at the time, he’d been spiraling for a few days already. So for me, you were the top priority on my list. I didn’t want to just do nothing and make it seem like his actions were acceptable—because they weren't. I-I-I guess what I’m trying to say is that I wanted you to know I’d be there for you, even if it meant going against my family."

"Yeah," Billie smiled at her with ocean-clear blue eyes meeting warm chocolate brown, speckled with caramel, filled with love and adoration. "Even though we didn’t say it out loud at that time, that was one of those moments when I knew I was in love with you. You stayed with me that whole week, making sure I was okay and taken care of…and even called your dad to apologize to me and ask him to take down the post."

“Aww, you loved me only three weeks in?” Kimora gushed, leaning forward to offer a kiss. Billie smiled and leaned in as well, their breaths mingling in the close space between them. Gently, Billie lifted her left hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Kimora’s ear before tracing her fingers softly along Kimora’s cheek, savoring the velvet-like feel of her skin. With a delicate motion, she moved her fingers from cheek to chin, then closed the distance and softly pressed her lips to her girlfriend’s.

“I love you,” Billie whispered, her eyes still closed, their faces barely a centimeter apart.

“I love you, too,” Kimora replied with a smile, then leaned in for one more tender kiss.

"Do you remember how we met?" Billie asks after the ad, now reclined on the couch with Kimora laying across her, leg draped over her waist.

"We met through a reference from Justin, because he would always say we absolutely had to meet. Hailey was like, 'You two would be perfect for each other if you were to date, because you're opposites with a cohesive middle ground,'" Kimora recalls, remembering her conversation with the Biebers. They were very persistent about wanting the two young, popular stars to either befriend each other—or, in some cases, get married immediately.

"So when did we officially meet?" Billie smiles, playing with Kimora's curls.

"In the Met Gala bathroom," Kimora answers with a smile. "I was coming out of the stall, and you were staring at yourself deeply in the mirror. I told you, 'You don’t have to worry about your appearance anymore. By now, everyone is probably drunk off their rockers because the food sucks, so you could be butt naked and no one would even notice.'"

"I’m surprised you remember that," Billie kisses her forehead. "You’re terrible at remembering things."

"No, I’m not," Kimora pouts, playfully slapping Billie’s thigh.

"You literally forgot we were filming today and almost went to work, even though you scheduled the day off," Billie laughs.

"I have a good memory," Kimora insists. "I’m just busy with the new Skims launch, aka Skims by Kimora." Kimora sits up, looking directly at the camera. "Get your favorite new set for 40% off with code 'GirlsInPink,' no purchase minimum."

"During lockdown, we got hooked on Reddit’s 'Am I the Asshole' stories," Billie smiles, back in their original positions on the burnt orange velvet couch.

"I don’t have blood pressure issues, but these stories drive me nuts. Like, why even ask if you're the asshole when it’s so obvious?" Kimora frowns. "For our first Reddit submission, please welcome Georgina!" Billie holds up a pink square remote, and clapping noises fill the room.

"Heyyy!" Kimora pouts at the remote in Billie’s hand. "I was supposed to be Sam in this podcast."

"Well, now you’re Carly," Billie teases, sticking out her tongue.

"No fair," Kimora crosses her arms, playfully sulking.

"You’re acting like a baby," Billie rolls her eyes with a grin.

"Ok, and?" Kimora glared. "If anything, I'm a cute baby..." She turned her head away from her girlfriend and looked to the right, making eye contact with her best friend, Georgina Miller.

"Alright, first Reddit submission is...‘I am a mother of five, 3 bio-Brooke 22, Will 18 and Iris 16 and 2 bonus sons-Sam 26 and Jack 23. All of my kids are currently living at home with me and my husband for various reasons. Sam's girlfriend Tori 21 and Will's girlfriend Mary 18 also lives with us full time, and Jack GF stays over a lot.

We have a pretty good relationship with all the kids, we don't charge them rent but everyone contribute to the household. We have a couple basic rules-input on utilities, maintain the common areas, etc but one of the rules is no babies, we don't expect our kids to celibate. But we do expect them to be careful.

On Friday, I found a receipt and saw someone brought a pregnancy test. I immediately took a picture of the receipt and put in the family group chat, I figured the culprit would out themselves. No one confessed, so I said that all girls that live in or visited are taking a pregnancy test because I suspect someone is pregnant. They pretty much lost their minds and told me no and messaged that I was being weird and invasive.

That is when I got upset and said that if anyone refused a test, they would have to move out. Everyone freaked out and told me that I'm being emotional and crazy. They decide no one would take a test. I think they assume I will not kick everyone out, but I will because I feel like I'm being gaslit. My youngest Iris is the only one I don't suspect because she is gay, not openly, but I know. I have

given everyone the entire weekend to calm down because everyone has been avoiding me and giving me the cold shoulder. I have tried to discuss the situation repeatedly but I have been ignored in person and over phone.

At this point, I am ready to evict everyone because someone is blatantly lying and all of the others are backing a lie while living stress free in my house. My husband thinks I should let it go for now because the test might have been negative and if someone is pregnant we will know soon. But I feel it a larger issue now of my kids disrespecting me by lying to me. Am I being the asshole?”

“Yes,” Billie answered right when Georgina was done with reading the submission.

“You’re not an asshole… but you are,” Kimora answers. “I can see the problem from both points of view.”

“Same, but I think what makes her an asshole is how she’s handling the situation now that she didn’t get the answers she wanted,” Billie explains why she thinks the writer is indeed an asshole.

“Yeah,” Kimora agrees. “Like, I get it, you’re upset because your boundaries were stepped on, and that’s unfair to you. But at the same time, you can’t force someone to take a pregnancy test just because you want answers right now.”

“Exactly. Even though it was negative, that person probably needed time to think and process the results. They could’ve been reevaluating what to do better to prevent another scare,” Billie adds.

“Oh my God!” A thought hits Kimora's brain full force. “I have another day off—remind me to register to vote.”

“Baby,” Billie looks at her with concern. “You registered last week at the same time as me when my mom was doing hers and asked if we wanted to come do ours.”

“Ohhh.”

“We’re gonna work on your memory, don’t worry,” Billie rubs Kimora’s thigh with sincerity.

“Anyways,” Kimora brushes off the awkward moment. “At the end of the day, you own the house, and if you feel gaslit and your boundaries were crossed, then kick them out, I guess. Just be prepared for the consequences that come with that action. Because at the end of the day… you literally said you don’t care if your kids are having sex, as long as they’re protected. And the pregnancy test was negative. I just feel like you can be protected and still have scares. I mean, Billie and I use a fake penis, and we still get scares. It comes with the territory.”

“They didn’t need to know that!” Billie looks at Kimora with wide eyes, shocked by her girlfriend’s impulsive thoughts.

“They were probably already thinking it,” Kimora shrugs. “You’ve literally done an interview talking about masturbation. Me saying we use a dildo isn’t anything new or shocking.”

“Just end the video,” Billie covers her face with her hands in embarrassment. “Now, please.”

“Hi, it’s me again,” Kimora awkwardly waves her hand. “Did your TikTok bird ass brain develop and actually let you stay to watch the whole video? Did you like what you saw or heard… or both, for the privileged? If you nodded your head yes or weirdly answered talking to a screen, then you should subscribe to this channel. We update every Wednesday and Saturday, so don’t worry if you don’t have actual friends to hang out with. Instead, come watch me and my girlfriend, Billie, talk about useless shit, vent, and argue about things we’ve done in the past with a couple of inappropriate touches that you shouldn’t be seeing, but our editor is too blind and lazy to take out. We love you, Lisa,” Kimora shouts out her editor at the end. “Bye!”

taglist @billiesrighthand @bilswildflower @bilsluckyheart @billiesgoodgirll @billsvip @billieshrry @dandelions4us @factsbybriggs @rhearipley-69 @cierraonline @amberg1998 @crystalblue88 @mercurylvd @saffsblog @ihavenoideayimhere @umadirectioner @harajukub4rb1e @sun81rise @jamiemundy7773 @cyberdreamlanddeer @steampunkprincess147 @zendayasredbottoms @efemerous @lady0ftheflowers

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