#first time actually using a big enough pan and it turns out that really helps! what madness is this!

[falderaletcetera]

sickos voice: yesssss

(recipe)

[chelseeebe]

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

-

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

-

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

-

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

-

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

-

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

-

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

-

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

-

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter three

summary: buck makes you dinner, and then your regulars see first hand how work has been going for you lately.

word count: 2.7k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long. i want to write so bad and i have so many ideas but i can't force myself to write. the seasonal depression is kicking in i fear<33 also i finally get to watch episode 3 of season 8 tonight. will be writing a drabble for motorcycle buck i know it. anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: slight body shaming, mentions of stalking (cute<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The other night at work, Buck spilled his full glass of beer all over the counter and floor, and although you kept trying to tell him that mistakes happen, he insisted on having you over to his house and cooking you dinner. While you were a little upset about the mess you had to clean up, you laughed until you couldn’t breathe when it happened.

He made such a mess, and his actions looked so dramatic that it almost looked fake. His defeated expression and sheepish shrug as he slowly raised his eyes to look at you over the counter added to the hilarity, and you could hardly be mad when he offered so many times to help clean up his mess.

So, now, here you are. Buck is cooking in front of you, while at the same time trying to show off his bartender skills he learned when he was in Peru, and it’s not going well. He insisted on having you over to make up for the incident, just wanting an excuse to see you outside of work, and he’s glad you said yes. He knew you would. And you’ve been to his house enough times to know that he’s skilled in the kitchen, but the added stress of trying to remember all his training is clearly getting to him as your big, sparkling eyes study his every movement.

Something smells like it’s burning, he’s spilt salt all over the counter and floor while trying to make you a margarita, and he was supposed to add the chopped veggies 10 minutes ago, which are still sitting on the cutting board, unchopped.

“I really don’t mind helping.” you tell him with a laugh. Your cheeks hurt from laughing so much at his antics, and you forgave him almost immediately, so this is completely unnecessary.

“I told you I got it. Come on, I’ve got everything under control.” he tells you nonchalantly. Just as he finishes his sentence, his smoke alarm goes off, and you both jump. 

You stand up abruptly, grabbing the dish towel on the counter as he takes the pan off the stove and turns off the burner.You stand under the smoke detector and wave the towel in front of it, hoping to shut it off before the entire building has to be evacuated. 

Once the smoke detector has stopped blaring and everything is back under control, you sit back down at the kitchen island, trying not to laugh as Buck turns to you with a defeated look.

“Can you grab my phone from the coffee table?” he asks you in a sweet voice, and you nod, immediately getting up and moving to the living room.

“Did you realize you actually do need a recipe?” you tease as you hear pots and pans banging around the kitchen behind you. You assume he’s going to try again, and it makes your heart swell. You’d never dare say anything out loud, but you have a little crush on Buck. It’s normal, sure, but you feel guilty because you also have the same feelings for Eddie. 

They flirt with you all the time, yeah, but they’re your work regulars. And either way, you’re not sure that either one of them actually sees you like that.

“No, I’m ordering a pizza. You’re too high maintenance to cook for.” he teases as you turn around. You scoff, laughing slightly at his words and narrowing your eyes. You shove his phone at him once you’re close enough, sinking back onto the chair with a huff. 

He smirks at your feigned anger, licking his lips as his eyes trail your body conspicuously. He’s used to seeing you at the bar, wearing some sort of outfit that he’s sure you’re only wearing to make tips. He’s seen you outside of work, not that you know that, and he knows you usually don’t wear miniskirts like the one he and Eddie talk about a little too often. 

It’s nice to see you more relaxed outside of work up close though, not bothering to dress up too much. You’re wearing jeans tonight, which still show off your ass in a way that has Buck groaning to himself, but you’re clearly comfortable enough around him to let your guard down. 

While it warms his heart, he can’t help but think about taking that comfort from you completely.

He loves seeing how quickly someone’s face can switch from calm to frightened when he and Eddie hunt, and he’s definitely fantasized about how pretty you’d look when your eyes widen in fear more than once to lull himself to sleep.

One minute you’d be laughing at something he said, body angled towards his and your movements loose and relaxed, and the next you’d be looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, lip quivering as you back yourself into a corner, just begging to be devoured.

“You’re the one that insisted I come over so you can ‘make it up to me.’ I told you you didn’t need to do that.” you tell him, rolling your eyes. His tone is still playful, so you know he’s not actually blaming you, but you still feel a little bad that he wasted all this time for nothing.

“And I told you that I need to make it up to my favourite girl. It’s not every day I find someone who gives me free beers when the manager isn’t around.” he teases, winking at you from across the kitchen island. Your cheeks heat up at his words, and your eyes dart down to the margarita sitting in front of you. He and Eddie flirt with you all the time, but Buck referring to you as his girl makes your head spin.

“Alright, pizza’s ordered. Let’s go sit on the couch while we wait.” he says after a minute or two, setting his phone down on the counter. You nod, getting up and following him to the living room.

You talk for a few minutes, the news playing on the tv in the background, but when a reporter begins to speak, Buck’s attention turns to the tv. Your gaze moves to the tv as well, curious to see what’s gotten Buck’s attention, when you see the video of the two masked men that have been terrorizing your city. 

It’s the same video you talked about with Grace, Afsah, and Cass, as no one else has managed to get them on video. The reporter talks about yet another body being found a few blocks from you, and a shiver rolls down your spine. At the same time, however, you can’t help but think about how Grace and Afsah talked about the two men. 

Your throat goes dry as the video plays in slow motion on the screen, and you can’t help but stare at the outline of the men. They’re very clearly tall and built, and although they’re wearing long sleeves, their biceps looking fucking incredible. 

Your focus is solely on the screen as the video plays a few times, your body betraying your brain that’s telling you not to think the way you are. You squeeze your thighs together subconsciously and chew on your bottom lip, eagerly studying their forms as they move.

Buck notices this, and he smirks to himself as he leans back against the couch, legs spread enough for his leg to touch yours. He imagines you eagerly accepting his advances; how desperate you’d be for his mouth, and his fingers, and his cock. He imagines pushing you back onto the couch and sucking and nipping at your neck while you give him half assed protests, even though you both know how much you want him. It’s clear by how you reacted to the video, even if you don’t know it yet.

He has a smug expression on his face when you finally turn back to him, not that you notice in your daze. You’re clearly embarrassed about how you were staring at the tv, and he can’t wait to wear you down until you’re unabashedly begging on your knees to please him with that pretty little mouth.

He can’t wait to tell Eddie about this; he knows he’ll be just as thrilled about it as him. And he knows that Eddie will agree with him; they need you all to themselves, sooner rather than later.

You roll your eyes when you hear Grace’s loud giggle over the football game, keeping your face down in order to hide your annoyance from the two men sitting across the counter from you.

Ever since you hung out with her a few nights ago, she’s been increasingly passive aggressive to you, and you can’t understand why. It’s little comments every now and then about your body, or how your mascara has started to smudge during your long shift, or that you’re not pouring various alcohols properly. Whatever that means.

While you were upset and confused at first, it’s grown into anger, although your eyes still look sad when you look at her across the bar. She’s been a good friend, and you can’t imagine why she could switch up so quickly.

She’s standing in front of a booth of men adorned with football jerseys, flirting and laughing with them. She’s refused to let you serve them all night, claiming that she’d be able to “bring in more tips,” and all you could do was huff and agree. 

You couldn’t help the jealousy bubbling up inside of you when you regulars walked in, and she tried to steal them from you as well. You watched with a raised brow as she greeted them with a wide smile, and you bit back a scoff as she leaned over the counter, making sure her chest was on display for them.

They shot her down quickly, of course, the sweet men that they are. They both looked at each other with confused expressions before they turned to you, waving you over to them with grins. You gave them a soft greeting before you began to pour their beer, feeling a little awkward as the little green monster jumped off of your shoulders and onto Grace’s, her watching you with raised brows.

“What’s going on with you tonight?” Eddie asks, both him and Buck picking up on the tension between you and Grace. Your eyes dart up to them, surprised that they noticed the eye roll you tried so desperately to hide. 

“Nothing. Just been a long night, I guess.” you tell them, trying to keep your voice light and lacking any hint of the feelings seeping out of you. You don’t want to turn it into a big thing, as much as it hurts you.

Their brows furrow at your response. Normally, you wouldn't miss the chance to rant to them about whatever’s going on in your pretty head. And it’s then that they realize just how much Grace’s words had affected you, and they know that something must be done about it. 

It’s clear to them that Grace is intimidated by you; not being used to having to share attention from men, and they almost laugh. You’re so unaware of your beauty that you think that you’ve done something wrong, and they can’t have that.

“Have I told you how pretty you look tonight?” Eddie speaks up after a moment of watching you furiously trying to scrub off a stain that’s been on the bar table as long as they’ve been coming into this shitty bar.

Your shoulders finally seem to deflate as you raise your gaze to meet Eddie’s, and he can see that you’re trying to fight back a smile as your gaze flickers from his eyes to his chest.

“Shut up.” is all you can bring yourself to say, but Buck is quick to shut you down. Both men want you to feel better. They want you to see yourself as the pretty little thing they do.

“I was just thinking that too. Absolutely gorgeous, baby.” he tells you, licking his lips as his eyes travel down your body.

Finally, your face breaks out into a wide grin, and you look down, laughing softly to yourself as you shake your head. They both glance at each other from the corner of their eyes, smiling smugly. There’s their pretty girl.

“What would I do without y-” is all you can say before Grace comes prancing back over to the bar, holding a fan of money in front of her face.

“Just got a $100 tip from those 6 guys. Said I’m the best server they’ve ever had.” The smiles drop from Buck and Eddie’s face as Grace’s voice trumps your sweet one, and they both roll their eyes when the smile they were finally able to get back onto your face drops along with theirs.

They know that you always work during football nights at the thirteen crows, and they’ve seen the service you give the men that usually attend. You always greet them with the same sickly-sweet smile, and while you’re always extremely nice, you’re not afraid to tease them and give them some attitude when the time is right.

You’re good at your job, they’ll give you that; you always know exactly how to make the men you serve laugh and smile, but it doesn’t mean they’re not jealous while they watch you. 

Even so, they know that you pride yourself on your customer service, and they never miss the way your smile gets just that little bit brighter when you know you’re doing a good job. They take note of the way you thrive on praise. 

They know that Grace is just saying this to make you upset. She wants to make you think that she’s better than you; that you can’t do what she can, which is seduce the male patrons just enough to get a bigger tip.

As you go back to your furious cleaning, barely even acknowledging their presence again, they both give each other knowing looks. They need to leave right now.

“Alright, it’s getting late. Got a shift in the morning.” Buck says, then downs the rest of his beer before standing up. Eddie murmurs an agreement as he matches Buck’s movements. They both pull out their wallets, then slide the money across the counter towards you. They see Grace’s eyes widen from beside you as she sees how much they’re tipping you, and they smirk. It’s what you deserve.

You give them a small smile, grabbing their money and putting what they owe into the cash register.

“I’ll see you soon?” you ask, looking between the two of them.

“Actually, we’re really busy the next week or so. Might not see us.” You frown at Eddie’s words, but nod slowly before you plaster a fake smile back onto your face. You mumble a quick goodbye as they start towards the door, and they almost turn back around when they hear Grace start explaining to you how she got all her tips tonight.

They stop themselves, though. They have to go. Now. Or else they’ll do something they’ll regret. They know Grace has to go; they know they have to take care of their precious girl, but they have to be careful.

They have to plan this. They need some time away from you, or they fear that you’ll make them act on a whim and they’ll get caught. They can’t have that. Not when they haven’t gotten their hands on you yet. Not without knowing how exactly you sound when you fall apart for them. They’ve heard it many times through the shitty speakers of their cameras, but they expect it’ll be all the better when they’re the reason for your pretty little moans.

They haven’t killed anyone that could be tied to them yet, not really. They know they’re heading into dangerous territory, but they can’t stop themselves. They’d do anything to make you smile again, and if getting rid of Grace will do that, then they’re more than happy to oblige.

next chapter

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @sarahsmi13s @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @tatyhend @sammiejane22 @mbioooo0000 @prettybi-girly @boybandbaby @toessssw @tryingtograspctrl @azkza @rosey1981 @cryedye (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in seatched, otherwise i can’t tag you! + more in comments)

[eldritch-spouse]

https://www.tumblr.com/eldritch-spouse/747047318802579456/can-i-eat-santi-and-not-like-just-eat-him-out-or

Santi’s obsession going to Morell and asking how he would best cook concubi

He knows who it is that wandered into his kitchen without knocking almost immediately.

First, you stink of demon, particularly the one he works with. Second, you're starting to pick up on that lilt Santi uses when he's going to ask for something.

" Yuh? " He says, turning just barely around to see you.

While you have yet to reach the incubus' brand of shamelessness, you've started to wear more revealing clothes. Things he gets for you, probably. And damn that stupid horny demon, he really knows how to show off those little pockets of fat on a piggie's pretty tummy.

" I was thinking about something, and surely someone as talented as you must know how to help me... "

" Uhuh. " Morell does not have time for this bullshit.

Turnip keeps waving a brownie at you, because clearly if you barged in the kitchen then you must be hungry. He figures you'll eventually cave and eat it, a pink bobble's resilience is no joke.

" So, if I wanted to, say... Cook an incubus-"

Morell chokes.

" Oh dear, are you okay? Well, what would be the best way to do it? "

Morell washes his hands just so he can drag them down his face and massage his temples.

" ... This a sex thing? " He deadpans.

You blink at him and cock your head.

It's always a sex thing.

" Ah'm not gonna cook Santi for ya. " He blinks. " Don' wanna, an' ah can't either. Not unless ah want ta be flayed alive or somethin' ... " Morell makes vague gestures with his hands, briefly trying to imagine what Krulu might put him through.

You twirl your hair with one hand and pout in a way he's sure the incubus taught you to. Because it's irritatingly eye-catching.

" Listen... I just want your opinion, Mori. " You whine.

Morell does not want you and him to be on a first name basis.

Nevertheless, he knows he should at least try to not think about how you'll use such information and actually answer the question. Because you're about as stubborn as the horned menace himself, if he had to guess.

" Fuck's sake. " The chef sighs. " Demons are hot. "

" Yeah, I would know- "

He looks at you like he wants to pull your ear, but doesn't. You might moan from it, he doesn't know what to expect anymore.

" Demons are hot. " Morell repeats warningly. " An' naturally spicy too, so you serve 'em with stuff ya'd usually get for spiced meats. Can't go wrong with a salad, pickled vegetables, sour creams, that kinda thing... "

For once, he gets into the drivel of preparation well enough to miss you rubbing your thighs together.

" It ain't always easy pickin' tha right parts, but Santi's big n' full in plenty o' places- "

You make a childish 'oooh' that jarringly halts his train of thought.

" I'll be sure to tell Santi that's what you think of his body. " You wink.

It's impossible. This is like Santi 2.0 in his kitchen. If the two of you ever team up then Morell is just going to start throwing pans.

" Woman ah need ya to shut tha fuck up- "

[lollytea]

how do think willow and hunter first talked about them being bi/pan? or do you think it's just so accepted on the boiling isles that they probably would never bring it up?

(This ask is from back when we got the bi/pan confirmation and I've been saving it, kinda thinking of putting effort into writing something cute and good quality. However I ended up waking up from a nap while the Q&A was happening and somebody told my confused disoriented ass that Zeno was talking about Hunter exploring his identity and going on dates while in the human realm. And I tapped out something very messy and stream of consciousness-y in my notes app in my sleepy state. So you're getting this instead. I don't feel like cleaning it up.)

Like like like it's. Luz putting together her little coming out slideshow for Camila. And the topic of sexualities comes up. And Amity and Willow puzzle out what theirs are nearly immediately. Gus doesn't but he's unfazed by it. While Hunter is like....I...can't say for certain and its bothering me. Like this is a THING that has a chance of helping him feel like more of a person. He wants his very own flag. He just doesn't know what it is yet. He'd like to know.

He likes Willow. He knows he likes Willow. But...there isn't a flag for liking Willow. (As far as he knows. He's thinking of making one. But for now he's stumped.)

There's a very specific route the kids take to the grocery store to collect stuff for Camila. Hunter likes to take the task because he likes feeling useful. Willow also likes to help but she'd be lying if she said another reason wasn't long walks with Hunter. Usually one of the other kids tags along too. Or more than one. But today it's just Hunter and Willow.

They always pass that damn statue but Hunter always averts his eyes and hopes Willow does too. He doesn't like to look at it. But maybe if he turned his gaze towards it every once in a while he'd notice the boy who always sits beneath the statue with a little handheld game console. The boy who always lifts his head when Hunter strolls by.

This is the day when the boy chooses to be brave. There's no gaggle of friends around him today. Just one girl. This is it. This is his chance. The boy marches up to Hunter and Willow in a way that Hunter immediately clocks as similar to his own Golden Guard body language. When he was trying to feel big but failing miserably.

The boy IS big tho. That's the weird thing. Tall with broad shoulders and chunky arms. A cluster of metal pierced into his left ear and a silver stud in his nose. He looks....so cool. So very very cool. Hunter misses the first words out of this dude's mouth cuz he was too busy looking at him and he needs to repeat himself.

So. Hm. Okay. Well. APPARENTLY. Piercings boy thinks Hunter is cute. Which is a staggering revelation that leaves Hunter a little speechless. And if that weren't surprising enough, he's now pushing a little piece of paper in Hunter's direction, babbling something about talking some time. Or maybe going out, whatever.

While all this is going down Willow just.....watches. Smiling. Nudging Hunter when it's his turn to speak and he's forgotten. It's cute. He gets like that with her sometimes too. It made her feel very cool and pretty that she made such a handsome boy nervous. But now....she's watching this little interaction play out and she's realizing....

Hunter's obvious little crush on her. Just how easy would it go away if he met somebody cooler. Somebody prettier. Somebody who's not clearly living a lie and hiding everything from everyone all the time. Somebody brave enough to actually ask him out.

It seems like just as she's getting comfortable in these kinds of situations, an Amity always sweeps in. And that's fine. She's used to it by now.

And also...she....she really cares about Hunter. He's been getting so much happier and experimental in the Human Realm. She wants him to try new things. She wants him to figure out who he really is. And....maybe that version of himself won't always have a little crush on Willow Park. Maybe he'll realize that there's better people out there. And that's okay. Whatever it takes for him to smile.

There's something very ugly writhing in her stomach and Willow pretends it's not there. Instead she yanks up her smile wider and as the mystery boy strides away, she pounces on Hunter. She teases him a little, she asks why he got so very shy. Is it because he liiiiiiiikes Mr Mystery Boy huh? And Hunter doesn't know what to say. He doesn't KNOW Mr Mystery Boy. Willow counters that's what the number is for. That's what dates are for. After a long back-and-forth discussion, its Willow that urges him to dial that number. They have to borrow Camila's phone. And Willow stands there as moral support as Hunter stumbles through the question.

Hunter has a date this Saturday. Which is very exciting. And also weird. And scary. He blushes whenever you bring it up. But Willow happily hypes him up for it every day leading up to it.

On Saturday, Hunter leaves the house at mid day and Willow sees him off, waving enthusiastically. He smiles softly and waves back at her, still twitchy with nerves. She gives a finger guns and assures him it's gonna go fine. He's a catch! This makes him giggle and she swells with pride.

The door clicks shut. Hunter is gone. It feels like a light has been sucked out of the household. Willow's smile slips.

She could head upstairs and hang out with the other girls. She could go down to the basement with Gus. But....right now she'd prefer to be alone.

Willow cleans the kitchen, which Camila is very grateful for once she gets home from work. And then she settles in the living room, snuggles up on the couch and throws something on the TV. Willow sits there and watches for hours. She barely processes any of it. And yet, she's simultaneously so wrapped up in the television that she doesn't hear the door click.

"Eyyyyy, I'm back," Hunter says in that awkward way he always announces his return. And just like that, a light switches and Willow is all zazzed again.

"Ooooooh Casanova has returned!!" She chirps. "A little.....earlier than I expected....?"

Hunter looks a little sheepish but doesn't comment on that. Willow thumps the couch cushion opposite her. "Cmere boy. Tell me everything."

Hunter sits down beside her and after turning to look at her huge grin, he smiles warmly.

"What?" She asks.

"Nothing."

"You gonna tell me how it went?"

"Fine. Um. Normal. For a date. I think? I dunno I've never been on one but I'm pretty sure I did an okay job."

Willow decides to rip the bandaid off immediately. "Any lip action?"

Hunter's reaction was a funny choking noise and a volatile flush across his neck "No!" He blurted. "Just...."

"Juuuuust?"

"Just hands! He held my hand! He held my hand and it was nice! I liked it!"

"Oh."

It's nice that Hunter got his hand held. He has such pretty hands. She's always thought they were very holdable. She's really happy. She's delighted. Just great.

She's a good person who is happy when good things happen to her friends, Titandamn it. And not a secretly ugly resentful person who wishes for selfish things.

"Yeah and. Uh..." He's scrubbing the back of his neck. "We...um. Ended up talking. A lot."

"About date number two, no doubt...." Willow sings.

"There's not going to be a date number two," Hunter answers immediately, knocking Willow out of her depth.

.....huh?

"I....thought you liked him?" She asks.

"I mean. Yeah. He's. He's nice but...but when I said we talked a lot...I might have told him that...." Hunter trails away.

"Told him what?"

There's a pause before Hunter speaks again, his voice a little higher pitched. "Oh! J-just. Just told him about a ton of stuff. Told him I like birds. And I like to read. And...and about Camila being a vet and....and I talked a lot about my friends. Gus. A-and Luz and Amity. And Vee. And uh. And you. And....we...we both decided that this probably wasn't gonna work out."

"Oh...." Willow....doesn't know how to feel about this. She doesn't have to pretend to be disappointed because she really is. Her friend had a chance to have a sweet little romance with somebody cute. And it just didn't work out. "I'm sorry, Hunter,"

But Hunter shakes his head. "I'm not disappointed. I actually....um. I liked it. I've never been on a date before and it....I dunno, it made me feel like a real teenager. Which is dumb to say because I know I AM a real teenager but..."

He perks up. "Oh! Oh and-and um...." His words tumble one over the other though there's a grin tugging at the corner of his lip. "Josh and I we....we figured it out. Me. We...we figured out me. I'm..."

He catches himself and clears his throat, extending a hand to her. "Hi, Willow! My name is bisexual!...Wait! Wait, no! Hunter! My name is....I'm bisexual and I'm Hunter! I...Agh!! Josh said I should come out to you in a smooth way but...."

Willow is grinning ear to ear, always transfixed by his frequent fumbles over the complicated act of putting words together. "You're bisexual!" She declares happily. "Hunter that's fantastic!"

Hunter's smile is soft but there's a hint of pride there too. "Yeah...thanks. I know it is...."

A pause.

"I have completely forgotten what bisexual means tho," Admits Willow.

"O-oh! Oh it's just um. I-I like multiple genders. Today I found out for certain that boys are....wow...."

Willow smirks. "Boys are wow?"

"Well.....arent they?"

She thinks about it for a moment, raking her eyes across the splotchy blush still clinging to his pretty face. Her insides are in a riot of fluttering flower petals.

"I guess they are," She agrees fondly.

"But also I...." He cuts himself off with a sudden bout of breathlessness. He inhales sharply. "Girls..."

"Girls," Repeats Willow expectantly.

Hunter, who has cut his gaze down to his tangling fingers, looks back up at her, manages to hold eye contact for a few very telling extra seconds and says, very clearly. "Girls."

"I see..." Willow is a little frustrated to find that she's also a little short of breath. "So maybe your next date will be with a girl then,"

Hunter's blush flares. "I'd like it to be..." He mumbles. "But..."

"Buuuuuut?"

There's some sort of internal battle raging on. She can see it in the violent twist and turns of his facial expressions. Finally, his throat bobs. "Nothing." He answers.

"Sorry...." He continues. "For coming home early. I just really wanted to...." Why does he keep trailing off? "It looks like you were trying to have some time to yourself. I can leave if...."

"You stay right here, Mr heartbreaker," Says Willow. "Stay here and watch weird human crystal ball shows with me."

A stiffness she didn't notice until now melts out of his shoulders. "Okay. I'd like that. A lot."

Hunter attempts to shuffle into a comfortable position, but what he's not prepared for is his friend Willow suddenly lunging and knocking him against the cushions in a tight tackle hug.

"Congratulations on your name being Bisexual," She mutters against the fabric of his shirt. "I like being the first one told,"

"N-no problem...." His voice cracks a little.

It takes maybe three minutes of comfortable silence and human realm TV babbling for Hunter to pipe up "And I'm not a heartbreaker. I didn't break anyone's heart."

"You could," Willow answers smoothly, not taking her eyes off the TV. "You have way more power over some people's hearts than you realize."

[umgeorge]

pole-sitter george russell is interviewed during the post-qualifying press conference, canada - june 8, 2024 (transcript under the cut)

Interviewer: "A very warm welcome to the top three qualifiers for the FIA Formula 1 Canadian Grand Prix. In third place, Lando Norris; in second place, Max Verstappen; and taking the second pole position of his Formula 1 career and his first here in Montreal, the pole-sitter, George Russell. George, many congratulations. What a session; literally nothing to separate you and Max in the end. Start by giving us your reaction to what's just happened." George: "Yeah, such a buzz. It's been a while since we've experienced this feeling, and so much hard work going on behind the scenes back in Brackley, at Brixworth, and it's been a little while to be able to sort of get back into the fight. And we've almost felt like all of that hard work hasn't been paying off, but I think these last two race weekends has really shown that, and, as I said, we've been so fast all weekend. Q3 was probably our worst session of the three, and bodes well for tomorrow." Interviewer: "As you say, it has been a while. It's been nearly two years since you took that pole in Hungary. Were you getting impatient for it to happen again?" George: "To be honest this weekend's been really challenging to know because of the conditions yesterday. You've had rain around all weekend, and then this morning Lewis was absolutely flying and he was well ahead of me, and had to look a lot into his data, try and understand what he was doing differently, and [laughs] to be honest that helped me a huge amount ahead of this qualifying. And just so glad that we could pull it off, because I feel like we really deserve it for all of this hard work we've been putting in, and the car's been feeling awesome this weekend." Interviewer: "Well, look, where is the car better this wekeend? Tell us about it." George: "Well, it always feels better when your name's towards the top of the timesheets, to be honest, but it's just turning really nicely through the corners. I think we stuggled a lot with understeer before. Last year we had a lot of oversteer, and we've sort of been just trying to find the halfway house between what we had last year and what we had this year, and it feels like we're sort of dialing in that sweet spot right now. So feels like something we've been saying for a long time, in all honesty, but it's just really a sense of relief to actually see it translate into a pole position." Interviewer: "And tell us about the conditions. We saw you have a big moment, I think it was at turn four in Q2. How difficult was it out there?" George: "Yeah, it was really challenging, to be honest. All weekend, every single session and every lap has been changing. The sun comes out, the track temperature warms up, then the clouds come in, it's spitting, and it's just really, really difficult to find that sweet spot. And my lap on the used tire was really, really strong in Q3 and I was expecting to find about three or four-tenths for the second lap on the new tire, and we actually just… It didn't click, but it was fortunate enough the first lap was good enough for pole." Interviewer: "So the race tomorrow, we've had very little dry running. What are your predictions?" George: "I think it's gonna be a tough race for everybody, to be honest. Graining seems to be an issue, and this new track surface, nobody really knows how it's going to pan out. But we've got to go for victory, where the car is genuinely really, really fast at the moment. But it's gonna be a long race, I think. As soon as you fall off that cliff of the tires tomorrow it's gonna be really difficult to recover, so yeah, it could be a bit of a strategic game. Maybe not as extreme as we saw in Monaco last week, but maybe something similar." Interviewer: "Alright. Very well done. Best of luck."

[time jump] Journalist: "Jake Boxall-Legge, Autosport. Question for George, please. You mentioned that you didn't quite get it hooked up on the second lap, and Lewis didn't improve, either. Was it just the nature of the conditions, with the weather changing, or did you just get the most out of it on the first one?" George: "Yeah, the conditions were changing. I think we were one of the last to do our laps-I don't know when Max did his lap-but my lap in Q2 was really, really strong. My first lap in Q3 was really good; only I think two-tenths off what I did in Q2 on the old tire. So I was expecting to do probably three- or four-tenths ahead, like it's been all weekend, and the tires just didn't quite feel right, so it shows how sensitive everything was. And that was probably the first time that it didn't quite go our way, but, as I said, it goes to show how strong our pace has been this weekend. Q1, we didn't need to use two sets of tires. That was a first. Didn't really need to use two sets in Q2, either. It's sort of come from nowhere, but maybe not a surprise with the upgrades we've been bringing."

[time jump] Journalist: "The last couple of years has been difficult for Mercedes to fight for poles or for podiums. Did you sense any difference during this weekend, that this pole position you would be able to fight for?" George: "A hundred percent. I think every lap we've done this weekend, the car's been feeling good, we've always been at the upper end of the timesheets, and talking yesterday why do we think we were so competitive on FP1, FP2, and obviously in FP3 really fast as well. So we need to see in the next races if that continues, but obviously last week in Monaco we were a tenth from the front row, here on pole, and this is the first two races we've had with the upgrade, so yeah, time will tell. We don't want to get carried away with ourself, but yeah, it's looking good so far." Interviewer: "George, on this topic, Scott Mitchell-Malm from The Race has just asked this question: Talking about the upgrades, previous supposed breakthroughs haven't been sustainable for Mercedes, but does this feel rooted in something more real, is his question." George: "Yeah, one-hundred percent. I think, going back to what Lando was talking about, when you have a number of years with the same regulations, you sort of hone in on that sweet spot. And we've sort of been zig-zagging over these past couple of years, and, as we've probably entered the last six months those zig-zags have sort of narrowed and we've sort of really been able to fine-tune what it is we want from the car, and I think it just goes to show that small changes can actually bring big improvements of performance. We saw it with McLaren. I think ourselves have made a big jump, as well, especially in terms of the pecking order. So, as I said, let's see if this performance is sustainable, but right now I don't see any reason why not, and we think we've got more to come."

[doctorgerth]

a/n: The first piece for the event! Starting with our sweet freckled fire boi. Will he get a smooch? Or is he safe until the next round? Read to find out! 💕

pairing: Ace x GN!Reader

word count: 1.3k

candy heart prompt: You & Me - Distraction

PORTGAS D. ACE + YOU & ME

The anniversary of the day you joined the crew was quickly approaching, and in typical Whitebeard Pirate fashion, they were planning a substantial celebration for you.

There was no one more grateful you joined the crew besides their very own 2nd Division Commander. You were undoubtedly Ace’s best friend among the crew; the two of you hardly ever seen without the other. That’s why Marco left him the utmost important mission of keeping you distracted while they finished with decorations and last minute preparations. Ace tried his hardest to fulfill his mission by keeping you company in your cabin — not too different from his daily routine.

Though, he really wished he would’ve been given more explicit instruction other than just keeping you ‘preoccupied’. What exactly was he supposed to preoccupy you with? The two of you could chat for hours on end. You’ve done so countless times before, but could he actually keep you cooped up in your room for long enough?

The answer was clearly no, since you quickly became eager to sneak into the kitchen — where the chefs were busy preparing your favorite dishes — for an afternoon snack.

“What is up with you?” you wondered aloud as you reached over to check his temperature. “You never turn down food. Are you ill?”

The warmth of your hand against his forehead was surely enough to bring him to feverish degrees. Your touch often did that, as did your genuine care for him. How could he not have fallen for you?

“I’m fine!” he reassured you with a groan. A result of you removing your hand. He didn’t want it to leave just yet. Or ever. “I just don’t want to face Thatch’s wrath again. My head still hurts from the frying pan he threw at me last time.”

You snickered, “Oh, so the frying pan caused you to lose the last brain cell you had?”

Thump. He smirked. Ace was a sucker for your playful banter. He’d often hoped it was flirting, but even though Ace knew you best, he couldn’t gauge your feelings for him. Did you feel the same way? Was he in your head half as often as you were on his mind?

“Yeah, I’m sorry I don't have any for you to borrow now.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Well, I’m starving and Thatch adores me, so I’m going to go grab a snack. I’ll sneak something for you too. You need to eat. You’ve hardly eaten all day.”

Thump thump. You always looked after him and he loved that about you. Ace loved you. He was never more sure of anything.

He hadn’t eaten all day because he was saving his appetite for the big feast, but of course he couldn’t tell you that. You seemed to be convinced that he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he could use that to his advantage?

As you rose to your feet, Ace thought quickly and clutched at his stomach, doubling over with an exaggerated groan, “You’re right. I’m not feeling so well…”

You released your hold on the door knob and rushed over to him, rubbing circles against his back and cooing at him. He only felt a little bad about faking an illness, but he could really get used to the feeling of you taking care of him. It felt so natural being here with you.

“Here, lay down,” you directed as you helped Ace into your bed. He looked pitiful staring up at you; those all too familiar dark eyes tugging at your heartstrings. You absentmindedly reached out to swipe some hair out of his eyes and nearly melted when he leaned into your touch. “I’ll go get Marco. Stay here.”

Shit. You’d nearly made him forget why he was faking being sick, let alone what he was supposed to be doing in the first place. Ace struggled in stopping you from walking out the door, struggling even further with getting out from under your covers. He tripped and fell onto the wooden floor, scrambling to his feet as he stumbled down the hallway chasing after you.

“No, wait!” he called after you. You were a few paces ahead of him and quickly made it out onto the deck, stopping only when he caught up to you.

You turned to him with your brows furrowed, “What are you doing? I thought you didn’t feel well?”

Ace was well aware he wouldn’t be able to fool you twice, but you were out in the open now. Exposed to any and all potential spoilers of your celebration. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to lure you back into your room in any normal manner. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

“I’m going to go see Marco to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I thought I heard him a second ago.” You swivelled your head to find the ship’s doctor.

Ace caught sight of some crewmates behind you, under Marco’s direction, carrying a giant balloon arch along the other end of the main deck and attempting to sneak it into the mess hall. Marco met Ace’s eyes with wide ones, panicked. He shook his head violently as he tried to hurry the crewmates out of your sight. Just as you were about to turn around to catch them in the act, Ace instinctively pulled you closer.

His warm hands cupped your cheeks, positioning your face mere inches from his. He could hear you, feel you gasp against his lips. Your warm breath fanning his own lips left him dizzy, wings fluttering madly in his gut he thought they might lift him off the ground. Having you this close to him was new, intoxicating, intimate. He felt near breathless as he continued to hold you still and you showed no sign of leaving his embrace.

“Don’t go,” he whispered gently, a calloused thumb grazing your cheek.

You sighed and Ace expected you to offer more defiance, to push him away, but instead you stared up at him expectantly, eyes blinking slow. Were you pulling him closer or was he leaning in?

He was surely running a fever now.

Your breaths mingled, lips hovering, noses brushing. The way Ace’s eyes would shamelessly drop to stare at your lips left you wondering how you were even still standing. You’d suddenly forgotten where you were or why you were even there in the first place. All you knew in this moment was him. Just you and him.

“Ace…” you sighed; a helpless plea for him to be closer.

Your name dripped from his lips like honey. You wanted to know if he’d taste just as sweet. Just as you were about to taste for yourself, a teasing voice pierced through the gentle thrumming in your ears.

“Are you two going to keep canoodling each other out on the deck or are you going to come join the party?”

The tension quickly dissipated with Thatch’s voice, causing Ace to drop his hands and you to take a hasty step backward. You turned to look at Thatch who was grinning mischievously. A crowd of crewmates behind him giggled like school girls. When you turned back to Ace, staring at him quizzically, he could only smile.

“Party? What are we celebrating?” Your voice sounded hoarse; unfamiliar. You were still jittery from the anticipation. You were actually going to kiss your best friend.

Though the tension was gone, you could tell something significant had changed between the two of you from that briefly intense moment. You’d always known your feelings for Ace were deeper than friendly, but looking at him now was like looking in a mirror. Ace stared at you in a way akin to lovers and though he was no longer caressing your face, you could feel a warm hand around your own, and another grip around your heart, squeezing as he replied,

“You, of course.”

a/n: Ace survives Round One! No smooch for him so far, but perhaps he’ll end up successful in the next round? We’ll see Fire Fist again in Round Two! Thanks for reading. 💕

[loustyleshtommo]

Song Theory of Taylor Swift’s The Tortured Poets Department: Track 28

Because Matty Healy is a stinky red herring. Let me tell you why Track 28 Peter is actually about Louis Tomlinson whose favorite number is 28, and present the evidence that Taylor Swift really said: forget that guy on the chief coming straight home to me. Goddess Karlie can STEP ON ME.

ps. I blame this entire song analysis on Taylor releasing folklore on One Direction’s 10th HBD.

Peter

Forgive me, Peter, my lost fearless leader

“my lost fearless” could refer to Taylor’s second studio album. She lost that masters to Big Machine. Before she announced her re-release of Fearless (Taylor’s Version), Louis released his solo debut album Walls, with a song called Fearless, “Cash in your weekend treasure for a suit and tie, a second wife” seemingly referencing her Lover era (ME! mv) as well as her past relationship with Dianna Agron and her present with Karlie Kloss.

“Now I’m not saying that you could’ve done better. Just remember that I, I’ve seen that fire alight.” Louis knew Taylor was planning to come out and was well on her way to execute that plan before it all went wrong. (Re: The 2019 NYC Pride Parade Outfit She Never Wore)

His song was encouraging her to become that fearless again. To tell her that he knew she tried. But why did Louis have to reassure Taylor? Why did Taylor feel the need to apologize to Louis?

In closets like cedar preserved from when we were just kids.

Both Louis and Taylor were queer kids who got stuck in the closets as soon as they stepped foot onto the music industry scene. It’s not a pleasant place to be. Just listen to the anxiety in Taylor’s voice when she asked “Are we out of the woods?”

Was it something I did?

Who could ever forget the Haylor Winter Romance? One Direction dropped their second studio album “Take Me Home”. During that promo season, Harry Styles and Taylor Swift got papped together a lot. The fandoms were divided. Some fans still believed in Larry Stylinson and/or Swiftgron. But the tabloids insisted it gotta be Haylor. Is it Taylor’s fault that they’re still stuck in the closet today? If she hadn’t participated in handholding in Central Park/NYE kiss/Blue Dress on a Boat, would everything be different today?

The goddess of timing once found us beguiling

Both Louis and Taylor were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time for their music career to start like shooting stars (Louis: we were lucky once, I could be lucky again.)

The things about “beguiling” is that it doesn’t only mean enchanting/charming, it has the connotation of being deceptive. The goddess of timing did not find them to be truthful.

She said she was trying.

Actual deity is all powerful and rarely has to try. This is such a human quality. This person is comparable to a Goddess but she’s still just a person. I believe that the Goddess of Timing here is Kali, while the person Taylor is calling a Goddess is Karlie.

Kali is a Goddess from Hinduism aka the same place as the concept of karma (who is Taylor’s boyfriend when she wrote the songs. But once she put it out and performs it for the audience, she no longer thinks of the song Karma as her own. In her mind, it already belongs to the fans. And if that’s the kind of entertainment they’re expecting, she will continue to sing “Karma is the guy on the Chief coming straight home to me.” Because the Goddess already sees her as a liar, what difference adding one more lie is gonna make? (Did she forget about the last straw?))

Peter, was she lying?

For the Goddess of time, this is the same question about fame (what Taylor earned with the help of fortunate timing) that Taylor has been wondering about since her first Speak Now era: Never Grow Up (Keep this line in mind, it will come into play later: It’s so much colder than I thought it would be, so I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on. Wish I’d never grow up. (Such a Peter Pan thing to think.) Continued into RED (Lucky One: Now my name is up in the light. I wonder if I’d make it out alive) All the way to Clara Bow in the tortured poets department. It’s the question that’s been haunting her for ages.

For the person comparable to the Goddess, was Karlie lying? Well, if she really is with Taylor then she’s also very deep in the closet and hiding a core truth about herself. So, yes, she was lying.

My ribs got the feeling she did

This is the line that cements it for me.

This Goddess must be Kali.

And Taylor fancies herself Kali’s consort.

One of the most popular form of Kali is Dakshina Kali. She is typically shown with her right foot on her consort’s chest. It’s a show of his devotion to her.

I got the information of Kali legend from Wikipedia, and this is what THE POETS got to say about the guy at her feet.

Here’s the thing, those who worship Kali are said to be able to overcome death itself. (Honey, I rose up from the death I do it all the time. Reputation is a Karlie album confirmed by a Goddess.)

Another thing about Kali is that she is not just a Goddess of Time. She is also known as Mother Goddess; Goddess of Time, Change, Creation, Power, Destruction and Death. (So basically, the entire theme of the Tortured Poets Department. Damn, girl. Way to talk about devotion.)

Another form of Goddess Karlie Kali with her left foot on her consort, Shiva, is much more violent. She was in uncontrollable rage. To stop her from destroying the entire universe, Taylor Shiva laid down on her warpath. When she stomped on him (and likely hurt his ribs in the process, ouch), she realized with horror that she had gone too far. (Taylor’s The Great War: The worst was over…I vowed, I will always be yours.)

And I didn’t want to come down.

I thought it was just goodbye for now.

The pre-chorus subject will later change from I to We, but the theme of thinking they would have more time keeps coming back around. Taylor still wanted her name up in the light. She thought she would have more time. She thought hiding crucial part of herself was just a temporary thing.

You said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

This chorus is why I think the YOU in this song is Louis/Harry. The anxiety-inducing repetition is reminiscent of Out Of The Woods aka the song I believe was written from Louis’s perspective, and also contained one of her earliest blatantly queer-coded lyrics: The rest of the world was black and white but we were in screaming colors.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

In the early One Direction days, Louis once admitted that growing old is one of his worst fears. Isn’t that the most Peter Pan thing you’ve ever heard? Taylor be like “I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending” This is one of the many reasons why I think William Bowery has never, ever, ever been Joe, but rather was actually Louis William Tomlinson (who curses like a sailer so much that infects Taylor. She never dropped f-bomb before she started writing with WB). The ships passing in the night imagery is such a Louis and Harry thing, and Taylor started using it heavily from 1989 onwards. Aka the album she wrote Style and invited the fella over there with a hella good hair to come shake it off.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

But can they really shake off the tumultuous emotions of hiding the love of your life like a skeleton in your closets? No matter how many hiding places she knew?

Words from the mouth of babes

Exhibit A to infinity: baby boyfriends

Promises oceans deep

Rope & Anchor, Ship & Compass, Pirates and nautical theme couple tattoos. You name it, they got it. Louis’s Strong and Harry’s Happily lethal combo: My hand, your hand tied up like two ships. I don’t care what people say when we’re together.

But never to keep

Exhibit crying in a cool way:

1D’s Something Great: The script was written and I could not change a thing.

1D’s Story of My Life: Written on these walls are the stories that I can’t explain

Harry horse-noises-and-i-would-lean-towards-no Styles, Sweet Creature who? Never heard of her.

Louis doesn’t-know-what-tattoo-he-got Tomlinson, but this compass is so sweet for pointing home, innit?

Never to keep

How many times are they going to have to deny their love? How many times do they have to parade around with someone else for the camera? How many times do they have to bring up conspiracies and how unfair it is for their loved ones? They keep doing things that practically break a promise of ALWAYS IN MY HEART. Are they doomed to never keeping their promises?

Are you still a mind reader?

It’s not just Louis’s Fearless song before she unlocked the vault to Fearless (Taylor’s Version), just look at the way he wrote lyrics that Taylor clearly had in mind:

Louis in Don’t Let It Break Your Heart: I know you left a part of you in New York

Taylor in Hoax: You knew I left a part of me back in New York

Louis for 1D’s Love You Goodbye: Baby, go on, twist the knife

Taylor in Hoax: my twisted knife, my winless fight

Louis for 1D’s Midnight Memories first leaked: Diana, let me be the one to lift your heart up and save your life. I don’t think you even realize, but, baby, you’d be saving mine.

Taylor in reputation’s Call It What You Want: You don’t have to save me. But would you run away with me? Yes. And keep this line in mind: My baby’s fly like a jet stream.

A natural scene stealer?

I mean, I am very biased. But Louis has always stolen the scene. Whether it be “NO! Jimmy protested” on the staircase, Kevin the Pigeon, it said do not dial 9 so I dialed 9, or when singing/carrying 1D choruses, especially clear in What Makes You Beautiful and Story of My Life a cappella version.

In relation to Taylor, as soon as Haylor officially ended according to tabloid, Louis proceeded to get this giant Swift bird tattoo in his right arm.

And remember the game 1D played for FOUR promo? Louis wasn’t even trying to do anything funny and the universe was like let’s make sure the pulling-words-out-of-hats game has the funniest possible outcomes.

Harry: mine said Louis Tomlinson

Niall: got papped snogging

Zayn: Taylor Swift

*chaos erupts*

Louis: *incredulous laughter*

Harry: *seize the opportunity for the funniest joke ever* I mean, you could’ve told me

Louis: Jesus.

Anyhow, I digress. Niall said without Louis, 1D would be the most boring band in the world.

I’ve heard great things, Peter.

I mean, World Tours/Festivals/Faith in the Future. Yup, great things indeed. But it also implied that they hadn’t seen each other in person for a while. (That’s why I still on the clown train that WB is Louis. They wrote together in lockdown. Nobody was out to see anybody.)

But life was always easier on you than it was on me.

This is where I am extremely dubious of my own clown theory. I don’t believe Louis had it easier than Taylor, especially given how he lost his mom and his sister. But it helps that the next line made it clear which aspect of life she was talking about.

And sometimes it gets me, when crossing your jet stream.

This line really takes Harry out as a contender for being Peter/you. Because he already has his own place here. He’s the “your jet stream”. My baby’s fly like a jet stream. Harry is Louis’s baby. It’s been well-documented in the Larry Stylinson fandom/organization/conspiracy/call it what you want to. 😂

We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon in different galaxies.

Both Taylor and Harry did the best they could do under the same circumstance. From the point of view on earth, there is only one moon. It seems so big and just within reach. But when we zoom out to the level of galaxies, it’s practically impossible to pinpoint the same moon among billions of other celestial bodies. Yet, the dark night cycle for Taylor and Harry is exactly the same. They’re both stuck in the same style of closet from when they were just kids. (Womanizer/Slut aka someone with many different partners, before it shifted to long-term low-key/marriage material themes. Likely due to the songs they kept writing which couldn’t possibly be about one-night stands, no matter which angle anyone look at it. The messages are loud and clear. They are in love and deeply devoted to one person only.) The difference is Taylor didn’t get to meet Karlie before the industry broke her spirit down. (Let all your damage, damage me.) But Louis and Harry have always had each other to rely on. #welivetogetherdealwithit.

Harry was once asked if falling in love is the best part of a relationship. Well, he said he actually believed the best part after that initial rush of infatuation is becoming a team. If that’s not enough to sound like someone in a long-term committed relationship. Harry also has a habit of singing “I’m in love with Lou and all his little things”/ “You’re still the one I run to, the one that I belong to. You’re still the one I want for life.” /“Hopelessly devoted to Lou.”

So, yeah. No wonder Taylor believed life was always easier on Louis and Harry than it was on her. Not even mentioning the things she said on The Man: I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man.

And I didn’t wanna hang around.

So Karlie and Harry was seen hanging out once and never again.

We said it was just goodbye for now.

I think Louis/Harry and Taylor/Karlie were always planning to come out at the same time, but that coming out schedule kept getting postponed.

You said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

Words from the mouth of babes

Promises oceans deep

But never to keep

Never to keep

It’s the same ol’ shit, just different days. The anxious anticipation and fear of consequences for when they finally come out feel oceans deep. They can’t get rid of it. But they still can’t commit to it 100% either. All they could do was making promises after promises with blatant Easter eggs like Harry running around with rainbow flags on stage, Louis wearing a giant golden H on his chest for his livestream during COVID-19 lockdown, Taylor’s entire Lover era. The list goes on and on.

And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn.

I’m gonna let the burning of Lover house in the Eras tour speak for itself. Their plan to come out was a failure time and time again.

As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return.

As Taylor kept switching out these Kens, while stuck in the same ol’ closet, she still hoped Louis won’t give up on their plan.

Well, here’s Louis in Just Like You aka the song he announced on National Coming Out Day saying: 25 and it’s all planned.

Did that plan include dropping his album Walls with Come so far from Princess Park & For every question why, you were my because on the last day that Harry was 25 years old? Because that happened.

And here’s Taylor in Lover for Death By A Thousand Cuts: Paper cuts sting from our paper thin plans.

Did that paper thin plan include Taylor releasing ME! on Lesbian’s Visibility Day? Because that happened.

Soon we will see the reason why Taylor would be asking for forgiveness from Louis. But let’s see first what she was hoping for and didn’t get.

With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned.

Remember Cloud lyrics from 1D: Some days you’re gonna see the things that I see… Never coming back down.

And from Louis’s Walls in We Made It: Never coming down with your hand in mine.

Because the thing about We Made It, is Louis still had to throw in a line for his girlfriend Eleanor. Yes, Harry and Louis made it. But they’re still stuck in the closet, anyway.

'Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned

This is when I realize that Taylor has been tracing the stepping stones, starting from most recent events and making her way back to the start in a non-linear manner. Well, she certainly did called this album a post-mortem study. But exactly whose death are we mourning in this particular song right here?

And you said you'd come and get me, but you were twenty-five

And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired

Lost to the "Lost Boys" chapter of your life

Remember Harry’s “Not That Important”? Or all the Rainbow Bondage Bear and Sugar Baby Bear RBB/SBB shenanigans? Louis and Harry were throwing themselves at the closet door, banging against it and making such loud noises. They wanted so badly to show the world that they’re together while still in the band. That fantasy was one hell of a drug. Especially after Zayn left and they felt like they’ve got nothing left to lose. That was, until Belfast (where a Victorian-styles woodvale park is located, remember that not-an-Easter-Egg-I-promise! in Taylor’s hide-and-seek edition of folklore? Uh huh.) and babygate caged them into ironclad closet. But it wasn’t only just those events and One Direction going on hiatus that ensured Louis was completely and utterly lost.

Louis was trying so hard to make everyone sees that he’s not the father. He was so, so loud about it. So loud that it’s still causing troubles every time he brings up Freddie TODAY. Way too loud to ever be shut down, basically.

Louis was doing everything he could to leave the closet. But in December 2016, he lost his mom and turned twenty-five.

How could anyone expect a grieving boy to have another fight left in him?

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on (hold on) to the days (to the days) when you were mine.

Louis performed Just Hold On for the first time only days after his mom passing. In front of the person who made damn sure he couldn’t be himself under the spotlight. It’s a testament to his strength and I will never stop admiring his resilience. And although Taylor didn’t come through with their coming out plan, someone else made sure to have done the leg work.

Before her passing, Johannah, Louis’s mother, took the time to delete all of Freddie pictures off of her instagram, two weeks after she told Louis that she had terminal cancer.

(How do I know this? Well, it’s a hindsight is 20/20 thing. When Jay did that, fans had no clue she was sick and dying.

Years later, Louis talked about his mom breaking the bad news when he was at Jamie Vardy’s wedding.

And that wedding happened a fortnight before Jay removed all of Freddie pictures.)

Louis’s mom took out the rose thorns and made damn sure her baby boy could walk down their memory lane with the least pain possible. Louis had a great mom who taught him how to get through the darkest nights.

And though it’s not acknowledged so publicly, Louis has had Harry by his side all this time. I don’t think Louis ever needed an apology from Taylor just because they couldn’t complete their plan to come out/“Speak Now” in time for his mom to hear it, too.

Regardless, it’s possible that Taylor still felt really, really shitty for failing to execute their coming out plan as grief-stricken Louis ran out of time. By the time her scathing reputation prologue letter came around (as if inspiration for music is as simple and basic as a paternity test), it seemed Louis was in too deep with the conspiracy from One Direction days to ever be rid of it now. Quite literally lost to the lost boys chapter of his life

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

And I’m not gonna lie, the sudden reappearance of present tense in descriptive lyrics here gave me a jolt of anxiety. Taylor already released Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) in which she repeated “So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on. Wish I’d never grow up.”

See, if we’re sticking with the original story of Peter Pan, Wendy grew up and Peter Pan didn’t. But in this version of the story, our Peter Pan aka Louis had been through such grief that pushed him to grow up first. He’s actually the one waiting now. Wendy aka Taylor had been playing catch up. (Fuck 🛴 for that.) Hence, this present tense about the woman who has turned out the light is the continuation of wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark.

By the way, how does the intro sequence of The Eras Tour go again?

It’s been a long time coming. It’s you and me. It’s Fearless. Big reputation. And they said Speak Now. Into folklore. My name is Taylor and I was born in 1989. Hey! evermore. Loving him was red. Meet me at midnight. Nice! Lover.

It’s you and me that’s my whole world. They whisper in the hallway she’s a bad, bad girl.

Taylor started her Eras Tour with Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. The song I believe was written to Louis from Harry’s perspective. “You know I adore you. I’m crazier for you than I was at sixteen.” Corresponding nicely with the song 18 that one of her best friends, Ed Sheeran, wrote for One Direction. The one Louis used to sing as “I have loved him since we were eighteen.” And Harry immediately followed up by screaming “Sixteen!” at the crowd.

You said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

You said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

This set of repeating chorus above isn’t the same as the other ones before. Can you spot the difference? Here’s the rest of the chorus that actually looks the same as the ones in the beginning.

You said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Both contain six lines, but I assure you, there are differences. The order changed. The last line changed. Devil’s in the details.

Words from the mouths of babes

Here’s the most surreal experience for me as someone who read too much between the lines. In Louis’s own documentary All Of Those Voices, out of all the song he has written, this is the one he chose to play as an opening segment for Freddie, aka his son who is arguably the most controversial and divisive topic in his fandom: Angels Fly.

This is a song about helping someone process grief, from someone who’s already been there before.

In hindsight, Louis’s babygate was a boon of sort. A blessing in disguise, if you will. Fans were so busy tearing this paternity narrative apart. Louis was able to keep quiet about the actual tragedy he was facing. Whatever drama Louis needed to keep his name on the papers, Freddie’s family helped provide it in spade. He was allowed to carve out truly private time to prepare for the inevitable. And when the news of his mom’s sickness broke, Harry was the one who got papped near the hospital that she was staying at. He took that publicity burden off of Louis’s shoulder. If that action did not speak of Harry’s immeasurable love for Louis, I don’t know what else will.

Promises oceans deep

Remember how Taylor almost had to go through the same thing Louis did? With her mom’s diagnosis? On my very first listen of Peter, I felt the same gut-punch of grief as when I heard her Soon You’ll Get Better, or Ronan, or Louis’s Two of Us. It’s the worst kind of heartbreak to recognize. And it doesn’t matter how long it’s been, that pain is edged oceans deep into your soul.

But never to keep

Fortunately, with time, anyone who has experienced such great loss will begin to realize that grief has ebb and flow, like ocean waves. You learned to live with the pain. You start to see silver linings. Maybe you quantify this grief with the size of the moon. So you build a galaxy around it and the eclipse doesn’t seem so daunting anymore.

TL;DR

I think Taylor is 1) apologizing to Louis for postponing their coming out plan over and over again, 2) acknowledging that the fear of consequences for coming out is nothing compared to the grief of losing your loved ones forever, and 3) confirming the plan to come out. Sure, words from the mouths of babes, promises oceans deep but never to keep. However, they’re both grownups now. So remember:

Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark.

And now:

The woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

Hello, darkness my old friend 👋

Most importantly, Taylor worships Goddess Karlie, byeeeeee.

[kangshxrtie]

ch. 18 ⤍ roommate stream

"yujin, that's my leg!" you complained as yujin kicked your leg.

"i know, it was on purpose," yujin retorted with a smirk.

"wonyoung, tell your girlfriend to stop feeling me up," you said, feigning exasperation.

"wait—i wasn't!" yujin stuttered, "don't lie on my character like that! wonyoung, get her!"

wonyoung, caught in the middle, sighed and shook her head. "yujin, behave. and y/n, stop provoking her."

you crossed your arms and playfully pouted. "i blame yujin."

yujin leaned back with a satisfied grin. "i was just finishing what you started."

"i didn't even do anything to you today," you retorted.

"we literally just turned on the stream, can y'all get along for a second?" gaeul scolded as she turned to the two of you.

"she literally just started antagonizing me out of nowhere," you complained.

"your presence bothered me," yujin stated.

"i will fight you," you threatened.

"come out then," yujin gestured to the door.

user1 i'd bet money on yujin

user2 yujin & y/n best duo

"at least chat loves us," yujin remarked.

"yeah, they're the real ones," you replied.

wonyoung chuckled and shook her head at how fast you two made up. "i swear, you two are impossible."

"anyways, we decided to do a roommate stream because we haven't done one of those in a while," gaeul said.

"even though half of us aren't even here," yujin added.

"they said they were five minutes away twenty minutes ago. i was lied to," you said.

just then, the door creaked open, and leeseo, rei, and liz rushed in, breathless.

"sorry we're late!" leeseo panted, holding up several bags of snacks as a peace offering.

"we got caught up in the snack aisle," rei explained sheepishly.

"i also got some from the kitchen earlier" liz announced holding a big box of brownies.

you turned around quickly with your mouth wide open, noticing immediately that it was your secret stash. "but... that was hidden!"

liz sat down with the box in hand, and everybody immediately went to grab some from the box.

"obviously not hidden well enough," liz shrugged.

you stared in disbelief as the rest of the group was just munching away at the brownies, ignoring the way you were glaring at them.

"you thieves," you scoffed in disbelief at the audacity after you took the time out of your day to hide those brownies. you really thought you had hidden them well too.

user3 not them taking y/n's secret stash 😭

"i know, right?" you rolled your eyes as you responded to the chat. "i need new roommates."

"don't worry, i'll buy you some more," gaeul promised.

"find a better hiding spot next time," liz teased as she took another bite of her brownie.

"you're telling me you bent all the way down to look behind the pots and pans and inside of an unlabeled box to find my brownies?" you asked incredulously.

"yes," liz nodded her head.

"i can't. i'm actually about to put a lock on everything after i buy food," you said.

"we have one of our managers here to help us with today's game," yujin told the chat, making your team's manager come into the frame for a quick wave at the camera before leaving just as fast. your manager covered the camera to choose the mafia for the first game, including the chat in the game. as soon as you all raised your heads, yujin immediately started accusing you.

"it has to be y/n."

"i haven't even done anything yet," you sighed.

"was that you confessing?" yujin questioned.

"i'm not doing this with you; i'm just a normal civilian," you replied.

"seems suspicious," yujin hummed.

"why are you pushing me so hard, just trying to get an easy kill?" you retorted.

"why are you two like this?" leeseo chuckled.

"i think it's gaeul. she looked a little too happy when she raised her head," rei suggested.

"i was just happy to be a civilian," gaeul shrugged with a small smile on her face.

"it's you and y/n for sure," rei accused.

"i breathed," you said in disbelief.

rei just made an annoying face in retaliation.

"what if we go around saying why it isn't us?" liz suggested.

"i want to start off by saying i would never kill anybody," you said.

"not yet," yujin mumbled.

"i also think it's yujin because she wants me out so bad."

"i'm innocent because i'm never mafia," yujin said.

"you right," liz nodded her head.

"i am an innocent civilian," wonyoung stated.

"i believe her," leeseo said.

the rest of you went around defending yourselves, with each statement becoming more outrageous and hilarious.

"okay, i vote wonyoung. she always gets a role," you told the group while raising your hand.

"y/n?" wonyoung asked dramatically.

"but what if it really is y/n?" rei chimed in, narrowing her eyes at you.

"i don't know what your problem is with me today, but i swear it's not me" you tried to defend yourself.

"let's just go to sleep without voting anybody out," gaeul suggested. "we're baselessly accusing each other."

when you all rose your heads, liz was found "dead," and the accusations started flying again.

"it has to be y/n now. liz died because y/n still resents liz for stealing her brownies," rei suggested.

"i'm not gonna lie, if it was me, i would have done that, but i don't have that ability," you said in disbelief. "i am being framed!"

"it makes sense," leeseo said.

"no way! i swear it's gaeul," you insisted. "remember how happy she looked? that was the smile of a killer"

"i'm just a happy person," gaeul protested with a laugh.

"not that happy," you mumbled under your breath.

"i think it's y/n because she keeps accusing everybody else," leeseo said.

"i'm defending myself after being wrongly accused!" you retorted.

suddenly, yujin looked at wonyoung and began laughing, making the taller girl look at her weird and slightly scared.

"it's you, right?" yujin asked wonyoung with a laugh.

wonyoung shook her head, "it's not me"

yujin laughed harder talking louder now and pointing at the girl, "it's wonyoung"

"i'd vote her" you said.

"no she's wrong" wonyoung tried to say.

"she doesn't seem like the mafia" gaeul said.

"don't protect your partner" you waved her off.

gaeul sighed, shaking her head. "she's not my partner"

rei raised an eyebrow at the comment. "so who is then?"

"i'm not the mafia," gaeul denied.

"well, i don't think it's wonyoung," leeseo suddenly said.

"because it's not," wonyoung exclaimed in relief.

"but i do think it's gaeul. she's a little too quiet," leeseo continued, looking at gaeul.

gaeul's eyes widened in surprise. "i'm always on the quieter side."

"a little too quiet," rei said.

"exactly!" yujin interjected. "you usually talk more during mafia but now you're just trying to fly under the radar."

gaeul laughed nervously. "because as soon as i started talking, y'all would call me the mafia."

wonyoung, sensing an opportunity to shift the suspicion off herself, added, "you know, gaeul did seem a bit too happy earlier. maybe she really was happy because she was mafia."

"i was just happy to play the game!" gaeul protested, her smile faltering.

"can't believe you were that happy to kill us off," you sighed dramatically. "i say we vote gaeul."

"me too," yujin quickly added.

rei nodded. "it makes sense. gaeul's been deflecting suspicion since the beginning."

leeseo looked around at the group, then shrugged. "alright, i vote for gaeul too."

gaeul looked around at all of you in disbelief at how fast everybody turned on her. "guys, come on! it's not me!"

but it was too late. the majority had spoken. with a sigh, gaeul raised her hands in surrender going back to stand with liz. "fine, but i am innocent."

with the vote in place, you all covered your eyes and liz, who was now the host of the game, confirmed who the mafia went to kill, and you all rose your heads back up. you all watched as liz

"leeseo was killed during the night."

leeseo let out a small cry dramatically sliding off of the couch and onto the floor, going around to the back to stand with gaeul and liz.

you looked back at all of them, making eye contact with liz, who was trying to keep a straight face but ultimately ended up smiling.

"i think we were right. liz looks too happy," you said.

"now i think it's between y/n and wonyoung," yujin suggested.

"well, i think it's between yujin and rei. i don't trust either one of them," you countered.

"i think it's not rei because she would never kill off liz," yujin said.

"oh my god, you're right," you exclaimed, covering your mouth. "i'm going back to my previous accusation: it's wonyoung."

"you just said you didn't trust yujin," wonyoung pointed out.

"but then she started making sense," you explained.

user4 they all look so stressed 🤣

"if gaeul was mafia and wonyoung pushed her hard, that means wonyoung is super innocent or she's super big-brained," rei analyzed.

"i say we be safe and vote wonyoung and if it's not her we end the stream," you declared.

"what y/n?" yujin laughed.

"because if both of y'all are mafia after that, then i'm leaving this team and joining le sserafim," you said, causing the rest of the team to laugh.

"wonyoung then?" rei asked for confirmation.

"do i get to defend myself?" wonyoung asked.

"floor's yours," yujin said, gesturing to the empty space in front of the couch and in front of the camera.

wonyoung took a deep breath and looked at you all with a determined expression. "i know yujin has some idea in her head that i'm mafia, but she's wrong and clearly just trying to pin something on me. also, why would i kill leeseo if she was the only person who believed me?"

"i think that was just a really smart move on your part," you said.

"that was a nice speech, but i'm still voting you out," yujin stated.

wonyoung glared at yujin upon hearing her remark. "fine, do it," wonyoung eventually gave up.

user5 yujin is def spending the night on the couch after this 😹

there was a moment of silence as you all waited for the results of the game.

"and the citizens have won the game!" liz announced.

"this whole game was rigged," wonyoung huffed.

"i just knew it was wonyoung when she looked at me," yujin boasted.

"this is why i can't play with you. you know me too well," wonyoung playfully rolled her eyes.

"i just want to say i knew it was gaeul from the start," you said triumphantly.

"you literally just guessed me and got lucky," gaeul countered.

"and i was right!" you said.

you all were supposed to play another game but ended up chatting for the rest of the stream.

user6 updates on y/n and zuha

"that's literally the love of my life, we're still happily together," you told the chat, "we're actually filming part two together in the next couple of days."

"she literally won't stop talking about seeing kazuha again," gaeul exposed.

"okay, they didn't need to know that part," you said.

"add it to the y/n and kazuha ship compilation," leeseo suggested.

"don't say that, they'll actually make one," you protested.

"trust, they already exist."

"do you happen to know the links to any of these?" you asked in an exaggerated whisper. "for research purposes."

"mhmm, i'm sure," wonyoung replied.

after talking some more, you all ended the stream with an outro, waving goodbye to the camera.

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 1, Wave 1, Poll 8

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave here.

Renarin Kholin- The Stormlight Archive

Qualifications:

Renarin is canonically autistic and gay (or at least MLM).

He's canonically autistic + has epilepsy, and he's been confirmed to be gay and have a crush on a male character (which will.be explored more in future books)

Canonically gay as confirmed by word-of-god; canonically autistic and has anxiety.

Renarin is canonically autistic and gay.

Propaganda:

Renarin is one of few characters in epic fantasy literature who's canonically neurodivergent or queer - it's rare enough to just see one of those things! He is also the best, just all around. He is so reckless and has such a strong moral compass: like he ran to help fight a giant crab monster with no weapons, no armor, and no training; he jumped into a 4vs1 duel to help his brother, with no armor, no training, and a sword that deals him psychic damage anytime he holds it.

He's autistic and gay; disability is a big part of his story; he's so much of an outcast that he was the first person to join his world's extra-marginalized order of sinister-but-not-evil magic users; and while he's quiet and self-contained, he's full to the brim with suppressed rage. Sidelined second son and quasi-cursed prophet. I fully believe he can take this tournament by storm.

Renarin is autistic, epileptic, and queer as the day is long. As a kid, he struggled to win his dad's approval due to his inability to fight as well as his abled brother -- but these days his dad's wised up and realized that Renarin actually kicks ass. When Renarin gets magic powers, he isn't "cured"; he's still epileptic, he's still autistic, and he still has a crush on the strapping young alien lad in his squad. Not only does he break down class barriers by hanging out with ex-slave humans (he's the prince of a major kingdom), he breaks racial barriers by dating an alien who's entire race was, until recently, enslaved by humans. Overall, he's a complete badass who is getting more confident, more appreciated, and more gay with every book in the series.

Loam Arnault-Entropic Float

Qualifications:

she canonically has arthritis and chronic fatigue, and is canonically bisexual and omnigender (using all pronouns)

They're chronically disabled (dont remember their condition :() omnigender, and pan!

i don’t remember what it is (or if that’s even said) but his disability gives her trouble walking some days and on others makes it so they can’t get out of bed. bisexual &nonbinary omnigender!

Canonically disabled, nonbinary omnigender and bisexual

Propaganda:

listen. i love him. oh my god i love aer. their disability and queerness are both central to the narrative. due to it being disabled, she is not taken seriously where he comes from. xe has given up on insisting on its gender being respected - every time thon tries, its taken as a sign he is having a bad day symptoms wise, which in turn is taken as though she has never grown up past being eight years old. through the game proper, it hides hir disability most of the time. to ask for help is to let someone know. and throughout their entire life, everyone who knew has treated him as stupid - perhaps not always, but everyone has. this is why she doesnt really want to get out of the anomaly; this is the first time fae has had friends who dont know, and therefore dont have "a reason" to infantilize it. star hides everything behind a chipper demeanour. well, that demeanour isnt entirely a lie; she is really silly and pleasant - one of my favourite things he says in the entire game is "isnt blue super bad for computers? like blue balls of death or something?". upon being asked "where do you come from that computers have balls?", they respond "well, how do they reproduce if they dont?" in conclusion. Loam my beloved.

silly guy... oh he's a lil bit fucked up actually

:3

I’m disabled and queer and Loam makes me feel so seen. He’s an incredible character, I love her dearly, I need everyone to understand how incredible they are.

The qualifications and propaganda correspond, @prinxe-with-no-crown is the first submitter @mythologeekwriter is the fourth and there were two others.

[gerbiloftriumph]

Lost and Found (ao3):

Grandpa’s story of the goblin caves started out familiarly enough, but as he spoke, the story started to twist and change. New friends, new conversations, and new ways to use old items transformed the tale, and the young king discovered new ways to be brave in the dark tunnels beneath Daventry.

(5/?)

~*~

It took a long time for the goblins to come back to his cell to let him out the next day. For a couple hours, Graham paced nervously, worrying that the contraband shovel or the sword-frying-pan in Amaya’s cell had been the last straw. Worrying that someone had found Whisper. Worrying that someone had noticed him wandering around and thought it wasn’t right for a captive crown to get free reign of a prison. Worrying that every choice he’d ever made had been a mistake. But goblins eventually came, and this time they shoved a mop in his face and pointed to a slimy section of muddy floor.

(“Wonderful. Mopping up goop was now added to my set of prison chores.” Grandpa said.

“I’m not sure what a ‘mop’ is, but you can probably find something else for it to do.”

“You might be right about that. Let’s see.”)

Whisper was waiting for him at the top of the spiral staircase. “Goooood morning, King Graham!” he said cheerfully. He also had a huge bouquet of roses, tied with an orange ribbon he must have torn from his cloak. “Is today the day we find the beautiful Amaya?”

“Whisper, it’s dangerous for you to be wandering around out here.”

“Eh,” Whisper flapped his hand. “They adore me, you know. It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s get that big bull!” He hurried to the beanstalk, now fully grown thanks to the Hobblepots’ remarkable plant fertilizer potion.

Acorn peered over the ledge. “Hey, string bean! Man, I missed you last night. I don’t like the quiet; it’s awful up here alone. Would you help me down?”

“But the beanstalk is grown. Can’t you climb down?”  

“Maybe unlike you I’ve read Jack and the Beanstalk. I know the giant falls off cos it breaks underneath him. I need someone to test it first. I ain’t doing it myself ‘til I know it’s safe.”

Graham scaled the beanstalk, little flowers crushing under his hands. They smelled like green and earth and life and made him think of the surface. He nearly slipped a few times, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the time he’d climbed up to the clouds seeking one of Daventry’s missing treasures. At the top, Acorn sat trembling and holding onto a rock for dear life.

“King Graham! Buddy! I am so glad to see you!” Acorn let go of the rock and grabbed onto Graham, squeezing tight.

“Hey, it’s great to see you, Acorn. You okay? Ready to get out of here?”

“It will be an honor to have another adventure with you, Sire.”

Graham bit his lip, hiding a smile, and managed to nod at Acorn in a probably noble sort of way. “I concur,” he said, as seriously as he could, then the grin slipped free. It had been so long since they’d gone questing together.

Graham studied the narrow platform behind the knight. There was the duck, still glittering gold, and a bent wooden harp, also painted gold. And, delightfully, actual gold! A whole two coins, mixed with the giant’s treasures. Graham grabbed the coins, noting with vague relief they were both an older design with Edward printed on them, so he didn’t have to feel quite so guilty.

There was also a little box with a very flimsy looking padlock on it, and inside was: “Hey, my shovel! How did that get up here?”

“Turns out goblins can do this weird thing where they climb little narrow cracks,” Acorn said. “I watched them do it, they put their backs against the wall and crawl their way up. Really weird.”

And kind of familiar sounding…no. Graham shoved the thought away. Amaya had been right. Focus on the now, worry about the bigger stuff when there was time. “I guess they could have come up at any time to get their duck, but it wouldn’t have been story accurate without the beanstalk.” Stories, stories. It always came to stories, with the goblins. Hmm.

He bent to examine the padlock. Very cheap looking, the first one of its type he’d seen down here. “Locked shut. I bet it could be picked open, but too bad I don’t have a lock pick.” Although, those chopsticks the merchant was selling…it would put him one coin back from his black market goal, but. One step at a time.  

Acorn inched a little closer to the beanstalk, then flinched back. “Actually, Graham, I think I changed my mind. I think you should leave me here. For, like, ever. I think that’d be best. We can stay pen pals.”

“Huh? Oh, the heights thing.”

“Yes, the heights thing,” Acorn growled.

“What’s taking you two so long?” Whisper yelled from the ground level. “Whisper wants to find Amaya! Hurry up!”

“Whisper, shush! You’ll get the goblins’ attention!”

“Whisper is using his whisper voice!”

“Fine. Oh! Wait!” Graham swirled his cloak. “Here, get in my cloak!”

“Can’t we go on a date before you start propositioning me?”

“No, gross. We figured this out yesterday. Come here.” He popped Acorn into his pocket, and the knight immediately started yelling in surprised protest. “Seriously? It’s very roomy in there. You’re fine.” Acorn felt no heavier than Whisper had, which was confusing, but nice.

Graham also gathered up the harp. He twanged the strings. It was not in tune, but he coaxed a very pathetic sounding “Greensleeves” out of it nevertheless, just to see if he could. He thought he could try to tune it, but the gold paint had probably ruined it completely, and it was still missing a string. Still. If it wasn’t nailed down…you never knew when you’d need a harp. He slipped it into another pocket.

He contemplated the duck. The duck contemplated him. He reached out to touch its glossy feathers. It pecked his hand. “Ow! Fine, never mind, sorry,” he muttered, shaking his hand.

At the bottom, Whisper was impatiently tapping his toe. “Let Whisper into your pockets too, we must find Amaya before Whisper’s flowers wilt!”

But immediately, the cloak pockets started to strain with two knights. He could sense the weight of it. He could walk, and nothing looked different per say, but there was a pull on the threads and on his shoulders that he wasn’t used to, and he sensed that the new weight would wear him down even faster than the normal cave experience was doing. This suddenly didn’t seem like a long term solution.

“I think it tops out at two,” he said, spinning in a circle. The cloak still fluttered normally, visually speaking, but the tug was odd, and he teetered on his heels, staggering a step.

Which was actually a bit of a relief. He’d been nervous about accidentally getting the entire Daventry River sucked into the fabric or something, but two humans maximum was okay. Still weird. But better. He wondered if his mom knew what she’d made. He'd have to ask her when he wrote his weekly dozen-page-long letter (ostensibly to practice his calligraphy for Royal Guard Number One’s approval, but mostly because he just liked to tell his family everything).

“Tops out at two, or does Acorn take up all the space?” Whisper said. His voice was very muffled and quiet, like he was speaking through layers of fabric.

“Are you callin’ me fat, speedy? You get over here, I’mma slim you down with my hands, give me even more room!”

Graham’s cloak fluttered as the two knights somehow tackled each other through the pockets. “Hey! Hey, stop!” Graham yelped. “That tickles! Stop! Quiet down, you two. Stop bickering! Don’t tear it!”

The fighting stopped, but he could still just barely make out irritated grumbling. “This stitchwork’s pretty impressive,” Acorn said, trying to soothe the bull with a distraction.

“Whisper thinks it could be comfier.”

“Hey, I used fabric softener,” Graham said. “And you fell asleep in there yesterday.” 

~*~

“You’re lucky I’m old and stubborn. ‘Cause I’m gonna be gripping onto this life until you bring me some food. I ain’t dying on an empty stomach, King Boy.”

“I’m looking, I promise, Muriel.”

“Starving brings out the flavor in everything,” Chester added.

(Grandpa, you told me this part already. A couple nights ago.”

“I can skip it if you like.”)

The story proceeded as it had before, for a time. Graham worked to clear goblins from villager rooms. Slowly, he created distractions, or removed goblins entirely through force, with help from the villagers when possible. He rescued more coins, climbing a rickety chair to examine a trash heap, and finding another in a bucket near a pile of straw. He reluctantly exchanged one coin for the Merchant’s chopsticks, to fetch his shovel from the contraband box, and anything else he mistakenly lost in the nightly shakedowns, which still proceeded even if the goblins didn’t return to their posts once Graham or the villagers had scared their respective guards away.

“After Wente’s outburst, I think the goblins are afraid to guard this room,” Bramble said. “But at least those goblins won’t be keeping us up at night any more with their constant giggling.”

As the guards started to clear, he was able to let Whisper and Acorn out of his pockets during the day, which was a relief. The strain on his cloak had been making him nervous; he thought the pockets were beginning to tear with the weight of it all, and he didn’t have a way to repair it here. Carrying people long distances in it was likely out of the question, even knowing it topped out at two. Imagine if the pockets split and dumped out their occupants in front of a goblin horde.

Also, he wasn’t entirely sure how to get people into the pockets through prison bars, if it would even work that way. He thought he’d try it only as a last resort. Squeezing them, even in his cloak, to get them through those narrow cell bars sounded…unpleasant, somehow. If he accidentally hurt someone in the process, he’d never forgive himself. Surely there had to be another way…but trying to pick the prisoner padlocks with the chopsticks did absolutely nothing.

Whisper presented his bouquet of wilted roses to Amaya with glee. He slicked back his mane and posed dramatically. “What is a lovely lady like you, doing in a place like this?”

Amaya took the roses begrudgingly through the bars. “Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“Ohh, but of course! I could escape on my own, you know, but now that you’re here I wouldn’t want to take that away from you.”

“What a gentleman, my hero,” Amaya said flatly.

“Ahh, yes, your hero. Yes, your hero is here! And what were your other two wishes?”

“That he’d be charming and handsome. I guess not all wishes come true. Also, you’ll notice I’m still in my cell, so as far as hero worship goes….”

“Right. Right.” He leaned back and said, in his loud whisper voice, “Graham? Fix this? Your pocket thingy?”

“I’m sorry, it’s too risky. I don’t have a way to get us out out, and I’m not sure about the cloak thing, either. If someone’s gone from a locked cell, the goblins’ll definitely notice. But. I’ll figure this out. I promise.”

“Figure it out faster.” Whisper glared.

“I’m trying!”

“Not trying hard enough!”

“I’m doing my best!”

“Make your best better!”

“I have my limits!”

“Boys, knock it off. You’re making my headache worse.”

~*~

The problem was the door. The individual cell doors holding each villager were problems, sure, but…. The big door, the door leading out into the goblins’ city, and Daventry beyond. That door. It needed at least two people pushing levers at the same time to loosen the latch, possibly more based on how much resistance it gave his and Whisper’s testing fingers. But, more importantly, it needed a key.

The lock on the door out was worse than the padlock that held his own cell door at night. Sturdier. And all the wishing in the world hadn’t loosened his own padlock. Nothing short of a miracle would budge this one.

A miracle, or a key.

“Where am I going to get a key?” Graham kicked a mushroom, which exploded around his metal-capped boot. It left a glowing trace behind him as he walked, his footsteps marked. He wandered down the spiral ramp as he gestured angrily. “I’m not. Simple as that. There’s nothing we can do.” He could possibly get people out of their cells with his pocket trick, maybe, assuming it didn’t hurt them to squeeze through bars in it, but they’d never get further than that even if it worked. Never get past that door, never actually manage to leave this goblin prison.

And getting caught with people in his pockets would just lead to Graham losing his cloak—and probably losing a lot more than that, too. He wasn’t likely to ever forget the tight ropes that had bound him on his way down here, and his prison break idea would lead to a lot worse for him if he didn’t have a step two. And he definitely did not have a step two. `

He wanted to scream.

He kicked another mushroom. The cap rolled off and bounced away into the shadows, like a deflated ball. It glowed weakly.

He slumped against the wall, glaring. He wouldn’t lose his temper, wouldn’t lose his composure, couldn’t. Couldn’t. Was a king. The king. Had to hold it together. Bramble would probably hear him from here if he snapped, and that would be the worst.

His head thumped back against the stones as he leaned back. Like if he could look through all this heavy stone to the Daventry sky it would be okay. His crown clanged dully, the spikes preventing him from looking up. Flustered, he grabbed the stupid thing off his head, out of his way, and he nearly threw it across the floor with impatience and frustration, but he caught a glimpse of himself in its reflection. He was grimy and sticky with cave dirt, but the crown remained glittery, even after this, gems winking in the dim light. He froze, staring at it. At himself. He’d been avoiding the little cracked mirror in his cell, hadn’t wanted to see himself, what this place was doing to him, but even in the crown he could see too much.

He sighed. “Long live the king,” he muttered, rubbing a thumb across it. Dirt smeared. “...who was kidnapped.” Gently, gently, he replaced the crown, the weight of it pressing his hair down.

He was exhausted, he was hurting, he was hungry. He was the king. He was supposed to have all the answers. Supposed to be able to take care of everyone. All his citizens. Himself.

It’s a puzzle, Graham, it’s always a puzzle. But this puzzle was missing pieces, and he knew it. Find a way out.

But how?

He realized his gaze had drifted to the mushroom he’d kicked, the little glow in the darkness. It cast strange shadows there, the glittery glow limning the rocks. Illuminating the space beyond.

Graham stiffened, crawled to the space. A loose rock. He jimmied it, rocked it gently, used the shovel to scrape a little dirt around it away, and felt it giving under his hands in a way the big escape door never did. He pushed it aside, and it scraped so loudly he felt sure every goblin in the entire underground was going to appear behind him, spears bristling. But he was alone. With his newfound dark tunnel.

His newfound very dark tunnel.

He stared at it, then: “Newton!” He scrambled up and ran for his cell, skidding across the damp floor and scooping up the little jar with the chirping salamander in it. “You’re a terrible book club partner,” he told the lizard sternly, then his face lit up with a grin. “But you’re about to make a really good lantern. Come on!”

He checked once more that the coast was clear, and then hurried back to his discovery. But then…then he paused, the big smile starting to fade. He held Newton out, the cool blue glow doing more than the mushroom ever could. Behind that loose rock was a deep crevice. Newton’s light only illuminated how deep it went. Graham had sort of assumed it would be shallow, a little divot in the wall hiding some prize. But this was bigger than he’d expected. Darker. A path, hardly more than a crack, really, that vanished into the gloom beyond the salamander’s glimmering light.

(“I’m not sure you should go down there,” Gwendolyn said.

“I wasn’t sure either, but if I stayed here, none of us would make it.”

“I guess that’s true.”

Grandpa and Gwendolyn watched the little mirror king. The light from the lantern shivered in the mirror king’s hands, gently shifting against his surroundings as he looked into the shadows, and the shadows watched back silently.)

“I wanted this,” Graham muttered. “I needed to find another road to explore. This is it. This is what I wanted.” But why did it have to feel so bleak? “I have to do this.”

And the king passed through the little crack in the wall, a salamander in his hands and his heart in his throat.

It wasn’t like the goblin prison was inviting. But this was instantly far worse, and Graham nearly spun around. The pressure of the rocks weighing him down never felt more obvious, the dead silence immediate and crushing. In the prison, it was never quiet. The soundscape was just different. You could always hear water dripping, or salamanders chirping, or goblins clattering around talking and laughing, or villagers speaking to each other in hushed, desperate voices.

But here, there was nothing but Graham’s hitched breathing and the sound his cloak made as it dragged across boulders. The wedge narrowed around his shoulders, pressing, and Graham struggled forward, free hand blindly scraping while he cradled Newton’s jar close with the other.

(“Grandpa? Maybe we should tell this part in the morning?”

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t get any lighter then, dearest.”)

Graham popped out of the crack with intense relief, glad the space didn’t remain so tight for very long, but the darkness around him here was somehow even worse for its unknown, unseen openness. He just had one little light, one little pool of cold blue, and though Newton was doing his best, the light barely penetrated the gloom. Maybe he wasn’t the best lantern on top of being not the best book club member.

“Hello?” Graham called, softly. Not sure he wanted a response, but he had to know if he was alone. The darkness seemed to breathe, but nothing replied.

He glanced over his shoulder—the crack hadn’t been that long. It had just felt worse when he was in it. But he could see the almost cheerful mushroom glow of the main prisons just a little way behind him. Easy. He could bear to go a little bit further, to see if there was something, anything, he could use. He had to try. He wouldn’t go far.

He stepped forward.

(“I don’t know about this,” Gwendolyn said, shrinking deeper into her blankets. Her hands were shaking, looking for something to grip onto. “Are you sure you want to go that way? It seems dark, and scary, and…and you don’t know what’s down there.”

“That may be so,” Grandpa said, and he reached out, gently taking Gwendolyn’s hand in his. “But in the end, everything will be okay.”

“But how can you know that? How can you just know everything will be okay?” Grandpa realized she wasn’t just talking about the caves, not now. The whole world was in that question, every shadow, every cry in the night.

“I don’t. None of us do. But I trusted that once I knew what I was up against, I could handle it. Are you ready to continue? I’m afraid it’s going to get a bit scarier before it gets better, so I’ll let you decide.”

She frowned at the mirror, at the little mirror king blindly feeling his way along the wall, glancing back periodically. “I should try to be brave like you. We have to keep going.”

“And so we shall.”)

Graham’s mouth was dry. He tried humming quietly to himself, tried to make the sucking darkness less awful, but it didn’t help. He inched forward, squinting, but nothing revealed itself beyond his tiny light. His hand pressed hard against the wall.

His next step was in empty air, and he fell.

[happyk44]

You know, I don't think we really talk about how brave Grover is because in canon he's very characterized as nervous and scared most of the time, but. I mean to be a Keeper/Protector in and of itself is a brave concept. You are risking death by monster to go and find demigod children who don't know how to fight or use their potential powers and bring them back to camp all by yourself, sometimes more than one. You have to constantly be in disguise which impacts your capacity to move or fight back. A lot of your kind have likely died protecting these kids. And the godly parents of these kids aren't compensating you or thanking you for bringing their kid back safely, but they likely get peeved if you don't.

And then to be a Searcher. Again you are alone against monsters and gods and other magical entities that might eat you or fight you. Again a lot of you have died trying to find Pan. A lot of them were your family members - your father, brother, uncle, etc. There are many monsters, many creatures out there that deceive you about his presence.

Grover has found all known children of the Big Three. He helped Luke, Annabeth and Thalia make it to camp and dealing with monsters the whole time because Luke kept seeking out fights. Despite this and despite seeing Thalia "die" in front of him, he still went back out! He spent a year in full disguise at a boarding school, went on his first quest, helps in the fight against Medusa, and so on. Even goes inside the Underworld with the other two, even though he hates the underground.

Despite all of that shit, he still goes out to find Pan after he gets his license and manages to bullshit his way into staying alive the whole time and help bring back the Golden Fleece.

Then he goes out again! Like right after he got back because he was at Bianca and Nico's school for a while posing as a student again and TTC happened in December. Goes on the quest to rescue Artemis and Annabeth.

After he goes back on the search for Pan. Six months later he goes into the Labyrinth (which is underground and he hate the underground). He lets Tyson come with him to find Pan, even though he's terrified of a Cyclopes and Tyson has the mentality of a young child.

He fights in the big battle afterwards, and then informs the other satyrs that Pan is gone - a decision that he knew could've had him exiled. Which they tried to do! And still he decides to go out and spread the word, despite the fact that other satyrs would likely be as dismissive of the news as the Council at CHB.

He confronts Morpheus while trying to rally other nature spirits. He helps battle! He's there in the bubble that Kronos makes with Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia, which means he was literally right next to a scary evil Titan that wanted to destroy everything!

He is so so brave!!

And if you correct Rick's math, then you get that he's around 14 (slightly younger, calcs put him at 13.7) at the end of the TLO, so he's the "youngest" on the team directly fighting Kronos, and when he becomes Lord of the Wild. Between TLT and TBoTL he's 12 and 13 by mortal standards. Yes, he's "technically" 16 right now but he was 28 in TLT which was supposed to have him pass as a 12 year old (since Percy was 12, turning 13) and so the math is not exactly half despite Rick saying so.

I guess we could argue that he was 14 in TLT and was just small enough to pass as a middle schooler, esp since Percy says he thinks Grover was held back because of his wispy goatee (which I always took to be a foreshadowing of Grover's goatman status, and not "he's a tiny 14 year old by human standards") and acne (was I the only 12 year old with acne) but I think it would be so funny for Percy, at 16, to a 32 year old bestie and a 13/14 year old bestie at the same time and everytime he says that people give a look and he just giggles to himself about it.

When he's 20 and Grover looks 15 but is actually 36 it's even worse because of how casually touchy he and Grover are and everyone is like "Percy plz stop calling Grover babe in public, you look like a pervert" and he's just offended hand on his chest, how dare you imply his relationship with Grover is inappropriate, they are both adults who love each other, and it's just gritting teeth, we know that Seaweed Brain but other people do not.

But lmao, anyway!! Grover is a brave brave boy! He is Lord of the Wild! He appears to be the head of the Council at camp as well! He takes charge and leads the nature spirits into battle as well. He was part of the planning group with the cabin leaders in HoO.

Despite his fears, he is so so brave! He would jump into front of a bullet for Percy (but Percy would not let him, Percy is so much "I would die for you, but if you even think about getting so much as a papercut to save me, I will be so fucking upset about it). Grover is so wonderful and cool and we need to talk about him more!!

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Hi can I please request a

Talos x reader. The reader helps fight using a frying pan & everyone is looking at each other like who know a  frying, pan, could be such a useful weapon. Your story are amazing. Hope your day is going great 😌

Of course you can!

Full of Surprises

Talos x Reader

Word Count: 752

Well, it wasn't exactly the way you thought the day would go, you thought it was just a standard intel gathering mission, but then again, nothing was ever standard where Talos was concerned.

Your job was to collect data from a laptop, easy. Talos would keep watch while you did your job, so it wasn’t exactly grabbing your attention when he came into the kitchen and told you to hurry up. These things always ended up with you rushing and Talos getting you out safe and sound. Except this time, he was outnumbered.

You heard the crashing of a vase and Talos being backed into the kitchen by what looked to be two SWAT guys, they had been disarmed fortunately, but they were still swinging and Talos was dodging where possible, trying to keep their attention while you finished up what you could.

You were just about to pull your hard drive and make a run for the van where Hill and Fury were waiting, when another five soldiers appeared from the doorway where Talos had been.

‘We’re coming.’ You heard Hill on comms.

Talos was doing his best to disarm and knock out the men he could, he was a big believer in not killing needlessly and you really liked that about him.

Suddenly one of the soldiers turned to see you, not hesitating before rushing towards you. You felt panic flood your limbs, reaching for the nearest weapon and swinging at the soldier. A bloody frying pan! Of course, you couldn’t have picked up a knife, you know, something actually useful.

Talos was hit hard and fell onto one knee. Hill and Fury still hadn’t made it into the house and there wasn’t many options. You took a breath and leaped up onto the kitchen island, wildly swinging the frying pan hard against the heads of whoever was closest.

You managed to take out three before Hill and Fury arrived to finish up.

You were still standing on top of the island, panting hard and feeling the adrenaline start to wear off. Everyone just stared at you for a moment, Talos getting back to his feet.

A sound caught everyone’s attention, but your fear forced you to move first and launch the frying pan at the direction of the sound. It was a bloody good shot, the pan bouncing squarely off the forehead of another soldier who thought he could creep up on you, knocking him out.

Talos was finally back to his feet and took a step towards you slowly, almost fearing you’d produce another pan from God knows where and knock him out as well.

‘I have to say,’ he spoke slowly so as not to startle you as he approached the island. ‘You are full of surprises.’

‘Yeah.’ You panted.

Talos just smiled, reaching up to lift you down off the countertop, making sure you were alright before grabbing your hard drive and finishing your work.

Talos, Hill and Fury just exchanged a slightly bemused look between them.

‘Remind me never to back you into a corner.’ Fury joked, making Talos and Hill stifle laughs.

It was the only thing that put you at ease, a smile finally making it to the corners of your mouth.

Talos gave you a comforting wink while Hill and Fury went to secure the perimeter once again.

You took a deep breath, reaching up to massage your shoulder. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and you could feel your muscles starting to ache.

‘Sore?’ Talos asked.

‘Yeah.’ You breathed a laugh.

‘I’m not surprised, you did a hell of a job.’ Talos moved towards the frying pan, picking it up and observing the dents that were now in it.

One of the soldiers moved a little as he was starting to wake up, it caught Talos’s eye and took one step towards the man, swinging the pan against his head just enough to knock him out properly. He looked at the pan, adjusting it in his hand to feel the weight of it.

‘Not a bad choice of weapon.’ He said, amused.

‘I was hoping for a knife.’ You confessed.

‘Nah, I think this was plenty.’

Talos put the pan down next to you, noticing you were still rubbing your shoulder.

‘I’ll give you a hand with that when we get back.’ He said with a wink.

Even after a fight he could make you laugh, and you were entirely grateful that Talos had come to know you so well.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[etraytin]

New Solutions, Old Disasters

More volunteering this last few days; it feels like the only thing to do that makes sense right now. There's a website that local people can check to find volunteer opportunities, so I signed up to help at the local food and water distro. They get lots of help on weekends, it looks like, but much less during the week, so I brought husband and Kiddo along as well. It was us and three other volunteers, a few city librarians who have been assigned to disaster duties while some of the libraries are still closed, and a handful of National Guardsmen working this center. The National Guard contingent has set up near our house at a summer camp tucked back in the hills, and I have never seen so many Chinooks in my whole life, much less had them rattling my windowpanes. Glad to have them though, they're doing a huge amount of work and supply transport!

Anyway, Kiddo and I directed traffic all afternoon. That meant meeting every car, figuring out what they needed and giving each driver a post-it note to say what and how much of each item to give them. Anyone who comes to the center was eligible to get one box full of 12 liters of water in 1-liter tetrapacks and one box of 12 MREs per person they were picking up for, plus as much potable and nonpotable water as they wanted in the containers they brought themselves. Some folks just got stuff for themselves, some picked up for others, a few loaded up for whole neighborhoods. I taught Kiddo how to do the post-it ticket and we took turns each time a car approached. He was nervous at first but quickly got the hang of it and was getting very fast and confident by the end of the day! I'm really proud of him because socializing can be a tough thing for him but he powered through and came out the other side. By the end of the day, he was saying that this was his favorite volunteer gig of all. (It did not hurt that the weather was exquisite all day and we got to enjoy a lot of it from our chairs in a nice shady place at the front gate.)

World Central Kitchen brought lunch for us, which was wonderful and delicious. It was some kind of chili-goulash with big chunks of vegetable in it, and there were three massive pans (sometimes we have many more volunteers than we had that day!) At the end of the day, the volunteer coordinator asked us if we wanted to take the leftovers home and we said sure, if nobody else was going to take them. Turns out there was an entire pan left and with everybody else being singles, nobody wanted that much, lol. We took it home and shared it with our neighbors and still had enough for two big meals. Our neighbors are a nurse in one of the hard-hit towns and a handyman plus two teenagers, so they were also happy to get an easy hot meal! We also took home one box of MREs because we ate through so many of our emergency supplies during the days when power was out, and it feels good to be prepared. I may give them away at some point, hard to say. We have given away a whole lot of my emergency stash at this point on the grounds that it feels bad to save up for an emergency that is happening right now to other people.

Yesterday I did actual Red Cross work for the first time in awhile. (I did an overnight shift at a Red Cross shelter the day after we got back to town, but the post I made for that got half-finished and left in drafts and I'm still picking at it.) They wanted someone from the local Disaster Action Team at the shelter to help with casework intakes because we use the same program as they do and are already familiar with it. I drove down to the shelter and found there'd been a miscommunication, they wanted me working intake, but not at the shelter near me, at shelters all over the disaster area by remote. So I went home and made a bunch of phone calls instead. It was a little frustrating, but above all things you must be flexible if you want to be a good disaster worker. There are always going to be screwups and miscommunications and hurry-up-and-waits. As long as nothing life-threatening is happening, you just shrug and roll with it and do what is needed. That's one reason I've taken so much Red Cross training; if I get to a place and they don't need me for what I thought I was going to be doing, there's usually something else I can do.

I did end up in a shelter anyway, when we realized that the shelter I was trying to contact was isolated enough that they still didn't have reliable cell coverage in the area. Rather than continue beating my head against the wall, I hopped in the car and drove out an hour to the shelter, which was up north in a very tucked-away corner. MIracle of miracles, the shelter did have enough WiFi that I did not have to resort to paper forms intake and I was able to get nearly everyone in the shelter taken care of. I also got to hold someone's kitten, which was pretty great. Unfortunately, about two hours into my visit it became clear that several residents had just (as in _just_) tested positive for COVID, and this was now going to be a COVID shelter. I, who had just interviewed all the folks in the shelter, had also gotten a good solid exposure. Great.

All of that to say that this weekend is not a big volunteer weekend for us anymore, as we are staying home for a few days to make sure I'm not ferrying germs between vulnerable congregate populations and the general public. I did dig out my masks today so I could drop off some bottled water and go collect the last of my belongings from the office of my canvassing job. That is officially over, with final paychecks this week and our field director reassigned to another office. At least I got my bag of hats back! Wearing a mask right now feels surreal; nobody has given me a hard time or anything but it makes this disaster feel like 2020 again and the feeling of cognitive dissonance gets kind of intense.

At least now I can tell myself it's a good thing to see people gathering in groups again because it means that the restaurants and businesses are starting to open again! The boil order has been rescinded for a large chunk of the county, and I counted five open restaurants on the main street this evening, all of them busy. No place was as busy as the town laundromat though, which has become a huge gathering place as one of the only 24-hour laundry places in a county full of waterless folks. That place is _busy!_

[ma1dmer]

Star Wars - Bao-Dur NSFW

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): whatever you need him for he is there, he'll bring you some water and if you ask he'll massage the soreness on your thighs and shoulders, but he does need to be told what to do, he is happy to do anything it just doesnt cross his mind at first

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): thighs, he loves your thighs so much, squeezing and seeing the flesh squish out between his fingers of both his flesh and mechanical hand, loves holding them open when he dives between your legs or when he feels you wrap them around his waist when you are about to cum

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): doesn't care much for the mess, he’ll be careful and use protection

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): he likes when someone tries flirting with you, he doesn’t usually step up to stop anyone unless you seem clearly uncomfortable, but he likes when people aknowledge how beautiful you are and always feels this sense of pride swell up in him, as well as something else, knowing you are his, also if you don’t make it known you are in a relationship he does not explicitly say you two are together when someone interested in you asks, he wants to see how it plays out, makes some implication or vague enough statement, but usually just sits back and watches 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): he has some experience ,but hasn't experimented a lot, hasn't felt that sort of safety to try out a lot of things

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): he does like flexing how strong he actually is so he does like picking you up , against a wall or simply holding you up, biceps flexing as he bounces you on him

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he makes some dead pan jokes in the most random times and by the time you get that he made a joke its too late, he has already moved on back to pleasuring you

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): he keeps everything well groomed ,he also smells very intensely of whatever shower gel he uses

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): not much for words but be does make up with it by overwhelming you with kisses and soft touches, he is really a big lover of physical touch

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): he usually does it to clear out his mind and fall asleep or to be able to return to his work with a clearer head

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): clothed sex, semi public etc

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): the comfort of your room, either his or yours, can be convinced to try some empty broom closet or a bathroom stall in nar shadda, but he takes a while to think it over, might say no initially but will definitely ask the next time you are there

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): dressing up, he hates to admit that he is not immune to seeing you in something you are obviously feeling yourself in, he feels bad if your intention wasn't to turn him on but he can't help the way his brain short circuits as his eyes take you in

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): he does not like demeaning you in any way, not good with dirty talk at all especially that type of dirty talk

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): he loves 69ing, he'll pull your hips up to his face and makes it his goal to distract you, he'll stop when you stop and ask you if you are okay, you stopped first after all, asks if he is doing okay, even though he knows damn well he is doing more than great

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): slow and sensual, he grinds against you when he bottoms out, he'll stop as he is fully inside you and just hold you for a while relishing in the way you feel wrapped around him

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): he does like the idea of them, but he rarely agrees to them, he is often busy or very focused in his work

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): he needs to feel very comfortable with the person he has next to him to try out new things, but once he gets there he is very open , he enjoys every new experience with you because he likes pleasing you ,will do his reasearch and all

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): a lot of stamina and with the pace he sets he can go for a long long time, if you get tired he just stops even if he hasn't finished

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): he acts indifferent to them but he has thought of making something specifically for you, he might get to it eventually ,there are the blueprints but he always gets distracted or he gets too flustered

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he is a damn tease, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, you don't expect it much but he is, he'll apologise but hide a smile at the nape of your neck

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): he is very quiet and he usually groans against your lips in between kisses muffling himself

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): he loves when you mark him up, he wouldn't tell you so but he does like seeing where you sunk your nails into him or the small love bites on his chest and neck it makes him feel proud

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): he is a big man, he is thick and there is a specific vein that makes him shudder when you drag your fingers or tongue over it

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): he silently pines from afar , when you look back at him he smiles at you and if you approach he'll interlace your fingers and grab your hand to kiss the palm of it ,he is not usually very into pda, so you can tell that he wants you even if he doesn't say anything

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): he does get a while to fall asleep, usually needs to be urged to join you in bed but once you ask he comes easily with a whispered apology about disturbing you

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT 06

✨GT stands for Giant Toothache✨

Okay, so we’re finally done with Planet Imceka, and the gang finally reaches planet that actually has a Dragon Ball on it.  The gimmick here is that everything is huge.  After Trunks (barely) manages to land the ship, the mountains in the distance begin to move through the sea.

Turns out, this is actually a lake, and the “mountains” are the craggy backs of giant alligators.  When Pan complains about Trunks’ handling of the ship, he admits that this is his first time piloting a spaceship.  Wait, so why did he get chosen for this mission, then?  Pan snuck aboard, but there’s only room for three people, and if none of them know how to fly the stupid thing then...?

Anyway, Goku and Pan take this opportunity to screw around with the wildlife.  Goku rides a beetle, and Pan dresses up like a bee and flies around with butterflies.  Okay, where did Pan get the stuff for this costume?  I mean, did she rip the wings off of an actual bee?

Trunks reminds them of their duty to find the Dragon Ball, but Goku decides to let Pan have her fun, and he and goes with Trunks and Giru to track it down without her.  They find it easily enough, until a giant apple falls on it, and then a giant bird of prey snatches it and delivers it to a giant man.  The Dragon Ball is embedded in the skin of the apple, you see. 

While they decide how to handle this development, a swarm of actual bees show up and take Pan back to their hive.  They think she’s their queen, you see.  Pan cries out, and Trunks decides that they can always track down the Dragon Ball later.

Their search for Pan leads them to what looks like a bee caught in a spider web-- hey, it’s Dr. Topsas!  I didn’t know he was in GT.   That’s pretty cool.  Maybe this show isn’t so bad after all--

No, don’t beat him up, Goku!  He’s a medical doctor!  He was trying to help that bee!

No, he had special medicine that could have turned you back into an adult!  Goku, quit screwing this up!

Turns out that wasn’t Pan at all, but an actual queen bee.  Trunks observes that she looks quite weak and sickly.  Yeah, because you wouldn’t let her doctor take care of her, you ass.

Meanwhile, the real Pan is stuck in the hive, where a bunch of bee eggs hatch into adorable baby bees.   Pan enjoys this for about five minutes, until the bees bring her honey, which pisses her off for some reason, so she flies out.

The bees chase her until she runs into Goku and Trunks, and then Pan takes off her costume and only then do the bees realize that their real queen is the one Trunks has been carrying.  This episode is harmless enough but it’s really, really weak.  Babies could tell where this was going.

So now they just have to find the Dragon Ball again, except Giru’s out of power, so they can’t use the Dragon Radar, and there’s no electronics on this planet that can re-energize Giru.  Luckily, the giant cooks a fish, and Goku follows the scent to his fire.  All they have to do is search his apples for the one with the Dragon Ball in it.

Except the giant eats the entire apple in one bite.  Goku suggests waiting for the Dragon Ball to come out the other end, and Pan refuses to dig through giant shit.  Let the Earth explode, it doesn’t matter.  Trunks proposes that they move on to the next Dragon Ball, and return for this one later, when...

The giant suddenly cries out in pain, and Goku spots the Dragon Ball lodged in one of his teeth.  He flies in after it, but the giant is thrashing around too much for him to retrieve the ball, so instead he fires a Kamehameha from inside the giant’s mouth, knocking out the injured tooth.

I don’t know if that big cavity was there to start with, or if the Dragon Ball broke through the already weakened surface of the tooth, but that just looks painful. 

Anyway, they got their Dragon Ball, and the giant even seems to comprehend what just happened, which is nice.

✨Is it Worse than “The Roaming Lake”?✨

Hell yeah it’s

WORSE.

For all its faults, as least the Roaming Lake was original.  This whole giant planet business is just a ripoff of the giant castle business seen in Dragon Ball Z Episode 42.

It’s not a shot-for-shot recreation or anything, but it’s pretty obvious where they got the idea from. 

All that crap with the bees was cute, but it went nowhere, padding out an episode that was already padded out with those long scenes of the Giant just meandering around and preparing his lunch. 

✨ “Good” “Ideas”, Poorly Executed✨

Since this episode is so short on originality, I guess we can use this time to talk about the Dragon Ball hunt itself.  This leg of GT takes a lot of cues from past Dragon Ball hunts, like the ones seen in the Pilaf Saga, the Red Ribbon Army Saga, and the Fake Namek arc.  I think the idea was to try a “back to basics” approach, since the Dragon Balls were treated like an afterthought through much of Dragon Ball Z. 

The thing is, there’s only so much you can do with a Dragon Ball hunt, especially in 1996, when it’s already been done so many times over.  You know who else figured that out?  Akira Toriyama, which is why he took the franchise in other directions. 

What drives me nuts about GT is how the people making it seemed to think that there was something wrong with Dragon Ball Z, something that they needed to correct, even though DBZ was wildly popular, and that was the whole reason for doing a sequel series in the first place.  But everything they did to “fix” the formula just proves that it was better the way it was.  Toriyama had to threaten to quit making Dragon Ball comics unless they allowed him to let Goku grow up.  This wasn’t an unreasonable demand, as Goku’s stubby little kid body wasn’t very conducive to the epic fight scenes that were happening in the manga.  Turning Goku into a kid again just forced Toei to find out the hard way that Toriyama had the right idea all along.  “Oh, well we just won’t have him get into fights,” they probably thought to themselves.  “He’ll just look for the Dragon Balls.”  And that’s how you get boring episodes like this one, where they just screw around with bees and pluck out a giant’s tooth. 

See, the problem is that it’s pretty easy to find the Dragon Balls.  Just go where the radar tells you.  And when you have a spaceship and three guys with super powers, it gets even easier.  That’s why this episode has to drag things out with non-problems like Pan getting abducted by bees, and the Dragon Ball getting “lost” in an apple, and Giru running out of power when he became too inconvenient to the plot.  It’s all just a big stall as GT struggles to go from 7:30 to 8:00PM, hoping you won’t notice that there’s only seven minutes of actual story.

And this is why I hate the mythology that this show had “some good ideas”, and it just failed to do them justice.  Where are the good ideas?  Hell, where are any ideas?  This whole show is just repeating old filler episodes that weren’t very good the first time around.

✨Positivity Page✨

Well, the baby bees were cute.  Self high five, little guy.

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Pan won’t touch dookie.

Too late, Pan.  This whole show

Is chock full of it.