#it was really important that i get this done so i can graduate and my mc'degree
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tricoufamily · 1 year ago
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a current day nils and a 90s college student nils who's way too intense about his internship walk into a bar
#hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii nils hiiii 💗🤭#let me get my important tags out of the way so i can write you a novella in the rest of them#ts4#ts4 cas#ts4 edit#the sims 4#nils#i've been exploring his character 🏃‍♂️#his full name is nils pelletier he's from canada originally he went to nyc for college and stayed there forever#he didn't grow up with much but he was really good at school so he got a scholarship and he was very very determined to become rich#he interned at frankie's dad's company and was offered a full time position after he graduated yayy you made it. i guess :| (evil company)#he's always been very stern very serious very quiet he's never had many if any friends. he was a deeply unhappy child#his parents weren't even bad they're nice and supportive and tried their best#he was married and has one son but he hasn't been married for a while. i don't know if it's divorce or death or what yet#it was the first girl he ever had a relationship with and he was also her first relationship#a very dull marriage but again not a bad one. she was nice and supportive and tried her best#it seemed like it was what they were supposed to do. get married and have a child bam done you did what was expected congrats#they barely ever even argued it was just. well loveless seems a harsh word. and 'well they were friends at least' seems untruthful#anyway he often has to be frankie's handler because frankie's dad is his boss and he does what he's told always#frankie's really difficult though
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pepprs · 2 years ago
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#to translate this post: someone liked this post i made (on the upper left) on AUGUST 28 having a moment of self awareness that i was running#away from my whole life and not moving or learni ng to drive or anything. it is now march 8. it has been almost 7 months. and i have made#basically zero progress. and there is nothing stopping me but me. i could read the drivers manual and whatever whenever i want. but i am not#doing anything. and i don’t know how to get myself to start.#purrs#i know it’s a cop out excuse but i truly do think it’s covid. i think being in lockdown for a year and a half made me just let go of any#sense of progress. made me scared to take steps forward. and i mean i did bc i lived on campus for a while after that but it’s like.. EVERY#part of my life is stagnant rn it seems. and it’s not just me it’s my siblings too. we’re all getting older but none of us is trying to move#out or gain our independence in any way and my brother isn’t even looking for jobs even though he needs one. we’re all just getting older#but we’ve lost (or maybe had knocked out of us by covid and our mom being so strict) any sense of moving ipward and spreading our wings.#forgotten we have wings at all. and ive done important things like going on a house tour or traveling with my besties (<3). but i have only#made it to page 8 of the drivers manual and i truly do not want to read the rest of it. i have only been on one house tour and im longing to#move out but how much am i really because i can’t bring myself to schedule another tour and start searching for a new home in earnest.#i just come home every day UTTERLY exhausted and spend all my free time trying to process or rest. and im not making room for myself to use#my wings. and it’s truly terrible. why are we all okay with living like this. my younger self would be HORRIFIED if she saw how much i had a#atrophied since graduating and moving back home. my brighton self would be HORRIFIED. i told myself i wouldn’t and then it’s exactly what i#did. and ik im being harsh and ive spread my wings in some important ways during this time but… these are so obvious. such low hanging#fruit in some ways. bc any 16 year old can take this test and pass it so why can’t i at 24? why won’t i let myself? dont i want a nice cozy#home i make my own where i can eat what i want and sleep when i want and have control over sounds? then why am i not running for it?#delete later#i am wasting my youth i am wasting my youth i am wasting my youth 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑 my one precious life 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃#also LMFAOOOOO the next tag on that aug 28 post was that i need to get a new campus id card… guess who hasn’t done that either ♥️
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DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick
Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.
Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:
Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.
And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.
Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.
Why do you deserve this scholarship? “My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”
Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.
There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.
~~~~~~
Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.
The local birds:
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Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans. This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare. Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains. Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table. Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.
Jason: …So, what's now? Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords. Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than… Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see. Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet. Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.
~~~~~
Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule. The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.
Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.
Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?
Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.
~~~~~
Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.
Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.
Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.
Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me. Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.
Red Hood: And why? Danny: It’s hard to explain… Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me. Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you. Jason: ..So what? Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you? Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses? Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.
Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go. Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.
~~~~~
Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman: Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission! Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls! Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me! Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base. Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.
~~~~~
Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here. Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us. Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..' Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure. Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that. Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.
Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job. Henchmen: scream
~~~~~
Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.
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formula-nyoom · 6 months ago
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Grid Graduation
Platonic!Grid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Being a racecar driver and actively pursuing a higher education is a feat in and of itself. You didn't let your career get in the way of going to college. But when racing seems to prevent you from attending your graduation ceremony, your fellow drivers decide to take matters into their own hands
A/N: Congratulations to all the people that are graduating this month or next month! I hope you guys have amazing celebrations. And to my fellow college students who still have a year or years left to go, we’re going to get through it, even if it seems like hell. I know that the color of the graduation gowns can vary by college or are usually black but I went with dark blue because that was the color of my gown when I got my associates degree. 
~~~
Some people would say it's stupid to try and get a bachelor’s degree while being a race car driver. 
“You already have a career. Why would you spend all your free time off track pursuing something you don’t really need?” is the question that was constantly asked to you during interviews. Your answer: because it was important to you. It’s common knowledge that karting and racing takes up most of a driver’s life. And while most drivers are able to pursue basic schooling and education during their karting days and early single seater days, once a driver makes it higher up the racing ladder, pursuing an education becomes second to trying to be the best race car driver on track. 
You on the other hand felt that your pursuit of racing should not get in the way of your education. And thankfully with the ability to take online classes, you didn’t have that worry. 
“You’ve refreshed that page five times in the last 30 seconds.” Alex said as you two sat in the drivers lounge. It was media day so thankfully neither of you had to worry about racing and instead your worry was focused on something else.
 “Can you blame me? I’m supposed to get sent an email that tells me whether or not I graduate today and I’m dying to know.” You said, refreshing the page again. You had finally completed all the required courses you needed to graduate and get your bachelors degree. Now you were just waiting for the confirmation that all the hard work, all the study sessions you had done between and after races, and all the all nighters was worth it. 
 “Have you gotten the email yet?” You looked up from your laptop to see Logan approaching with Oscar behind him. You refreshed the page again.
 “Nope. Still nothing.” You let out a frustrated sigh. All the other drivers knew about your pursuit of a college education while also being a race car driver. They had been nothing but supportive in your efforts and could tell how worried you were about having to wait for your college’s final decision on you graduating.
 “The email will come eventually. Staring at the screen isn’t going to help.” Oscar said. 
“I suppose you’re right.” You said, refreshing the page again. You were about to close your laptop, putting the matter temporarily to rest, when the page loaded and showed you had a new email. It was from your college.
 “It’s here!” You exclaimed. You were about to open the email when you paused your finger over the mouse pad.
“I don’t think I can open this. What if they deny me? Or what if this email tells me that I still have some courses that I need to pass to graduate?” You started nervously chewing on your bottom lip as worst case scenarios started to run through your head. Logan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder
 “(Y/N), you’ve been working your ass off the past couple years to get this degree. They’d be stupid to not let you graduate.” Logan said. 
 “I can read the email for you first if you want.” Alex offered. That seemed to calm your nerves. You handed Alex the laptop and waited with bated breath as he opened the email. Anticipation started to build as it seemed to take forever for Alex to read the first line of the email
“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate!” Alex exclaimed.
 “Really?” You grabbed the laptop and read the first line of the email that did indeed confirm that you were graduating. Logan and Oscar started to shake your shoulders in excitement as you started to laugh from happiness.
 “I’m graduating!” You exclaimed. Logan, Alex and Oscar let out cheers of excitement as you read the first lines of the email again.
“What’s with the excitement?” Charles asked as he and Max entered the driver’s lounge.
 “(Y/N) got the confirmation that she’s graduating college.” Alex said.
“Congratulations!”Max said. He ruffled your hair while Charles gave you a hug. You were practically beaming with happiness as you started to read the email out loud. 
“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate! We commend you for this amazing accomplishment and we’d like you to attend the graduation ceremony on….June 7th.” Your voice trailed off after reading the date and your smile slowly started to drop.
 “Are you gonna go?” Oscar asked. You shook your head.
“I can’t. We’ll all be in Canada for Free Practice.” You said. It was true. Your college’s graduation ceremony was the same week of the Canadian Grand Prix.
 “Do you think your team will let you go?” Alex asked. “I mean, you’ve done Canada multiple times and you’ll do it again. But you only really graduate college once, especially considering you're a race car driver.”
 “I don’t think (Y/N)’s team will let her go. Free Practice isn’t something you can really miss.” Max said. He was right. Attending a graduation ceremony seemed like a trivial matter compared to your career. 
 “But (Y/N)’s worked so hard for this. Surely her team will understand.” Logan said.
“No, it’s…it’s ok if I miss the graduation ceremony. I’ve been given confirmation that I’m graduating and will get my diploma in the mail later this year. That’s enough for me.” You told them. But that wasn’t really true. You would have liked to attend the ceremony. If not for just the celebration but also for the sense of normalcy away from the racetrack and responsibilities of being a Formula One driver. 
 “Well we can still celebrate right? Maybe get all the drivers together for a dinner?” Charles suggested. You smiled a bit.
 “Yea Charles. A dinner would be nice. This is still a cause for a celebration. Even if I can’t go to the official one.”
Dinner with the other drivers was a nice celebration. It helped you forget about not being able to attend the graduation ceremony for a while. But the week of the Canadian Grand Prix seemed to bring up that fact again. It seemed the media wanted to remind you too.
 “Well, before we start taking questions, I’d like to say congratulations to you, (Y/N). It was recently let known that you’ve graduated college and now have a bachelor's degree.” The media commentator for the drivers press conference said to you as you sat on a couch next to George, Lando, Lewis, and Zhou. 
“Thank you. If I didn't have to be here in Canada, I'd actually be attending the graduation ceremony, which is happening tomorrow. But racing takes priority.” You smiled to hide some of your disappointment, but the other drivers seemed to notice.
 “I’m sure you and your family are proud of all your efforts. Maybe some of the drivers too?” The interviewer said, motioning to the drivers next to you.
“I’m insanely proud of (Y/N) for what she’s accomplished. She’s shown that racing shouldn’t get in the way of pursuing an education.” Lewis said.
 “I will say, (Y/N) has worked harder than anyone else on the grid.” Zhou said. 
“She won’t admit it herself though.” George said, nudging your side. You shook your head.
“In terms of something like this, even if I can’t attend a graduation ceremony, I’m proud of all the work I’ve done.” You said.
 “Well, I hope you celebrate or have already celebrated what is an immense accomplishment.” The interviewer said.
 “Me and the other drivers on the grid actually went out to dinner to celebrate the day I found out I was graduating to make up for the fact that I can’t attend the ceremony. It was a really nice dinner and I’m glad I have friends to celebrate my accomplishments with.” You smiled at your friends sitting next to you. They smiled back, but for a different reason. 
Despite your efforts to hide your disappointment, your fellow drivers could tell how upset you were about not being able to attend your graduation ceremony. And while the dinner was indeed nice, they wanted you to have a proper celebration for such an immense accomplishment.
That’s how George and Lando ended up knocking on your driver’s room door after interviews and media responsibilities were done for the day.
 “Hey guys. What’s up?” You asked as you opened the door for them.
“Put this on.” Lando handed you a bag with what you assumed had to contain clothing.
 “Why? What is it that you have handed me?” You gave him a skeptical look.
“Open the bag and find out.” Lando said. You did as he instructed and pulled out something made of dark blue fabric. At first you thought it was a dress, but unfurling it revealed to be a graduation gown. You tried not to frown. The only need for something like this would be for graduation photos, which you had already taken. But Lando and George were insistent and you decided to amuse their idea for now and put it on.
“Now what? You want me to get into a race car and drive around the track in a graduation gown?” George and Lando just laughed.
 “I don’t think the FIA will allow that. At least not in just the gown.” Lando said.
“Of course you can’t have the gown without the cap.”  George handed you a graduation cap with a tassel in your team color. The cap was decorated with a little race car on top that had a diploma trailing behind it. 
 “What’s…what’s all this for?” You asked, while putting the cap on. You don’t know why you decided to put the cap on, but did so anyway.
“It’s for your graduation ceremony of course.” Lando said. You frowned.
 “There’s no way I can attend that ceremony.” You said.
“We’re not talking about your college’s graduation ceremony. We’re talking about the one that’s happening right now.” George said. “Come on.”
George and Lando ushered you out of your driver’s room and started to lead you somewhere. You still looked at them with confusion. 
 “We already celebrated during that dinner.”
“But it wasn’t a proper ceremony.” Lando said, leading you towards the track entrance. By now, you were starting to suspect what George and Lando were up to. It wasn’t confirmed until they led you to the start line.
“You guys did not….” Rows and rows of chairs were set up on the track with a makeshift aisle in the middle. Each chair was filled with one of your fellow drivers or members of your team. Tears started to well up in your eyes at the realization of what was happening. 
 “We wanted you to have a proper graduation ceremony.” Lando said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a side hug. Now you were trying really hard not to cry.
 “C’mon. Everyone’s waiting for you.” George said. He and Lando walked you past all chairs, the drivers and team members applauding you as you walked past. 
Lewis and Fernando were standing at what was designated the stage and greeted you with a hug and a whispered “congratulations” as you approached. 
 “Shall we get started then?” Lewis, who had been designated the commencement speaker, said to get everyone’s attention. Everyone quieted down and took a seat
“We are gathered here to recognize the immense accomplishments of (Y/N) (L/N) in her pursuit of a higher education in the form of a bachelor's degree. Not only has she strived for what many have wanted to achieve, but did so while also managing the life of a Formula One driver. That is something not many can do.” Lewis said.
 “I now ask for Fernando to present the graduate with their diploma.” Fernando walked over to you and handed you a piece of paper, then the two of you shook hands as formality of a traditional graduation ceremony while George quickly snapped a photo. You looked at the “diploma” that was handed to you and couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It was a diploma template that you could find on the internet that included your name and the name of your college. Though the official seal had your team logo on it. 
“I now ask the graduate of 2024, to move your tassel from right to left and signify your newfound graduation status.” Lewis said. By now, it was getting really hard to try and keep the tears in as you moved the tassel from right to left. Lewis smiled.
 “It is my pleasure to present (Y/N) (L/N) as the grid’s graduating class of 2024.” Everyone stood up and applauded you. At this point you couldn’t keep the tears in any longer and started to cry but also cheer. Lewis pulled you into a hug, followed by Fernando, then Lando and George and it got to the point of just being a big group hug full of drivers.
 “Go on, toss the cap!” Logan exclaimed once the group hug broke away. Chants of “Toss it! Toss it!” started to echo till you took the graduation cap off and tossed it into the air, signifying that all that hard work was worth it.
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hellfirenacht · 1 month ago
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Anomaly Part 3
Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.
Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader
2.4k Words
Part 1, Part 2, Master List
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Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie. 
Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma. 
You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.
He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that. 
With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up. 
Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong. 
“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked. 
“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.” 
“I heard someone pushed you” 
Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene. 
“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly. 
You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel. 
“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”
Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?
Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone. 
Everyone except him. 
Not that it mattered. 
It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were. 
Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important. 
The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch. 
“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books? 
Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in. 
It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was. 
“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him. 
Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration. 
“Thanks.” you said shortly. 
“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried. 
You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint. 
“Yes.” 
The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything. 
Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself. 
He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other. 
“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little. 
You only nodded and led him out of the classroom. 
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You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was. 
Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school. 
Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school. 
It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway. 
English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell. 
When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you. 
Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name. 
It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either. 
“Need help getting to the lunch room?”
Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering? 
You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-
“Yes.” 
The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse. 
Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage. 
You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you. 
The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter. 
No one except the young man following behind you. 
Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally. 
“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”
Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything. 
“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.” 
You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.” 
You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking. 
It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that. 
“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”
I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria. 
“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.” 
God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist. 
You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside. 
“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.” 
“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.
“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?” 
Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use. 
You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together. 
She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction. 
Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.
“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?” 
You wanted to rip your hair out. 
“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow. 
“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse. 
Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?
“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”
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I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.
Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol
Tag List: @eddiemunsonfuxks @kirsteng42 @strangereads @pedroschka @generoustrashpeach
@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias
@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess
@sp1dyb0y1008 @projectcampbell @emxxblog @thebadbatchfan
@transparentenemypenguin @ghoulsgraveyard @spread-the-hope @exploding-bonbon @paleidiot
@2spock @c14r3v1b3srs @yujyujj @saramelaniemoon @morganlolitta
@veemoon @mrsrdlw @eddieheart @bambibiest @mylovelycrazyworld
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feefivefoe · 3 months ago
Note
Please can we hear your thoughts on what Bruce does/thinks when being confronted with his neglect by Jason (and maybe the other boys too)??
Thank you, and have a nice day!
Bruce is the one I have the hardest time characterizing tbh.
I think his first reaction would be denial? He hasn't been the best father, but even he wouldn't go as far as to forget his own chi...
Oh my god he doesn't know how old you are. You were...you were older than Tim but younger than Dick, he thinks.
Wait.
When was your birthday?
Did he ever give you a birthday party?
What wing of the manor did you sleep in?
Where were you right now?
Unlike Tim who starts the unofficial search, Bruce heads right to the batcave to find your official records. Social security number. If you worked anywhere or has anyplace legal to stay, you'd have to input that. He's ashamed he has to go through a government database to find it, rather than simply knowing it.
And just like Tim, he finds nothing. Which scares him beyond belief. Had he lost you already? Did he actually forget about one of his children and then unknowingly replace them? Was he actually guilty of what Jason had accused him of years ago, albeit to a different child?
In reality, you're living solely through cash. Plenty of individuals are eager to avoid paying all their taxes, and are thrilled to accept cash only payments on your rent, or paycheck. Legally, you haven't done anything since graduating high school.
Not necessarily hiding from them, per say, as you don't think they'd go looking, but just because you don't want to be known as a Wayne.
And god, there is so much guilt, fear, and anguish rolling around inside that man. He needs to find out where you are, and if you're okay, and if anybody had done anything to you.
He swears if they have, he'll rip the motherfucker to pieces-
No. That isn't going to help. So instead he checks every reported death within not only Gotham, but any city within a 50 mile radius. For the last 10 years.
As well hidden as you are, nobody can hide from Batman while he's concentrating every effort to find you.
He's hesitant to bring you home at first. How can he call himself your father after forgetting you for your whole time living with him? But his regard for your safety eventually wins out. Until then, you just get a concerning amount of money just...stashed in your apartment??? What the fuck??????
Dick also feels a lot of guilt, but he somewhat subconsciously channels that into abundant overeagerness. Instead of focusing on how many important moments he missed...that he can never get back with his first baby sibling...
...ah, he should focus on all the memories you can make going forward! He has to take you to all his favorite spots, and you take him to yours!
What interests do you have? Are you a go to the aquarium person? Family movie night? Spa night? Just having fun with everyone at dinner? He has to do these things with you! And then you'll be his family again, and he'll love you, and you'll love him-
In spirit, he shows up outside your door like Damian. But he is self aware enough to know that'd freak you out, so instead he 'coincidentally' shows up at your work...in the bad side of town...and his attitude definitely gives away it was planned.
He messes up your "I'm a nobody like all of you" persona you'd spent years cultivating, and by the time he leaves, all your coworkers and customers know that you're Dick Grayson's sibling...which means Bruce Wayne's child, but he likes saying you're related to him more.
Tim doesn't give a fuck at first, like I established. It really is a game to see if he can find you before anybody else does. When he loses that to Bruce (damn it-), he decides he'll just know you BETTER than the others to win.
So he starts literally stalking you and making a psyche profile, like you're a case rather than his sibling. Any interest you've ever listed in your social media is cross checked with any belongings of yours. Merch or posters? Songs you listen to? Any of that content, he consumes as well. He's going to need conversation topics with you.
I'm not entirely sure if he actually loves you as family, or if you're just a hyperfixation that's consistently buzzing at his brain. It's like he wants to dissect, then digest you. Pick you apart piece by piece so he sees every last skin cell, then make that information a part of him
Though, he'd claim it's the former. To him, there's no discernable difference.
He's the one who meets you at your hobbies. Claims an online friend brought it up, but hey, it's crazy to see you again!
Even though it's your first conversation...maybe ever?
He's chatting to you like you haven't been estranged your whole life.
And the look in the eye is...a little unnerving.
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justmeinadaze · 4 months ago
Text
Inescapable: Letters (Steddie X You)
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A/N: I give you treat my dear friends. A glimpse into inmate Steddie. I'm going to write a full story but for some reason the idea of them writing back and forth burned into my brain. Think of this as a prequel so to speak.
Enjoy!
Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, Everything is in letter format. Mentions of smut, some dirty talk, angst (because I'm me), both men were convicted even though they are innocent, near the end we get some glimpses of toxic behavior, Jealous Steddie <3, cliffhanger esc ending.
Word Count: 2918
"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)
July 1996
Mr. Munson and Mr. Harrington, 
I know you don’t know me but my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I’m a student here at Hawkins University. I’m supposed to be doing a project for my criminal justice class and with your permission I’d like to do it on you. 
I’m working towards getting my law degree and so many kids in my class are doing theirs on people like Bundy or Gacy. How does that help teach them? I’ve done research on your case and I feel like you both are innocent. Add in the fact that the judge wanted to make “an example” out of you two… it’s ridiculous. 
Neither of you had a prior history of violence and Mr. Harrington, your parents are prominent members of Hawkins! UGH! I just don’t get it. 
Sorry. I went off on a bit of a tangent there… I just hate how you both were treated. 
If you don’t want me to utilize your case for my class I’ll completely understand. If you don’t respond I’ll take that as a no as well. 
Thank you,
--Y/N.
################
July 1996,
Sweetheart,
You have no idea how good it made us feel to have someone reach out to us, let alone agree that we are innocent. Society forgot about us a while ago but thankfully Steve and I have each other. 
And now you we hope : ). 
We have no problem with you doing your project on our case. What do you need from us? Details I imagine but what else? Are we allowed to know more about you? We know your name is Y/N, you’re a law student, and judging by the intoxicating scent that wafted when we opened your letter you smell really fucking good. 
Please feel free to be open with us.  We’re nice guys we swear.
-Eddie
Y/N,
I hope Eddie didn’t come off too strong with his letter. I told him we need to be respectful but like he said people kind of forgot about us. It’s nice to feel appreciated. 
We have no problem with you using us on your project and you don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to. I understand that talking to someone in our circumstances can be a bit scary especially for a young lady like you. 
Are you only going to be speaking with us or do you need to talk to our families to? My parents gave up on me after I was found guilty so they probably won’t be much help. Eddie’s uncle Wayne Munson is a nice guy. You can tell him we sent you and he’ll answer your questions. We also have some friends people who were around the time we were arrested who can help to. 
We look forward to hearing from you, 
-Steve
P.S. You can call us Steve and Eddie. We already feel old enough : )
####################
July 1996
Eddie & Steve, 
Thank you so much! You have no idea how important this is to me. I don’t just want to do this for my class but I’d like to use this case for my graduation project as well. But we don’t have to think about that now. I barely like to think that far ahead so I use the excuse of that is two years away. 
Eddie didn’t come on too strong : ).
I AM a law student and a sophomore at Hawkins U. I’ll be 21 in a few months so I can finally move up to being a bartender at the restaurant I work at. College is expensive but soon it will be worth it. I’m attaching a picture with the letter just so you have an image of who you’re talking to. 
Growing up I heard all about you two. Hawkins High used to have your Hellfire Club, Eddie, but they disbanded it a couple of years before I graduated. The parents said they didn’t think it was right for their kids to belong to a club created by someone such as yourself. Since Dustin Henderson wasn’t there to advocate for you guys anymore…
I don’t have to reach out or talk to anyone you don’t want me to. I know most of the people involved in your case aren’t even in Hawkins anymore. 
I’m so sorry. It must be hard having everyone you know disappear. 
My parents aren’t exactly fans of my chosen profession. My mom hates lawyers since her divorce lawyer wasn’t able to get her more alimony from my father and my dad is cop so enough said hahaha!
I’ve been with my boyfriend for a few months. He’s a film major and keeps begging me to allow him to do an interview with you two. I keep telling him no. You’re people not circus animals. 
Let’s start with you two telling me whatever makes you comfortable in regard to your case!
-Y/N
####################
December 1996,
Sweetheart,
Merry Christmas! 
Did Wayne give you the presents we bought you? My uncle said it’s important for college girls especially soon to be lawyers to have tape recorders. I’d love to hear if you liked it and if you can use it in your classes. 
It’s been a couple of days since you called. I hope everything is alright. We miss the sound of your voice…
Y/N, I know I can come off a bit forward but I hope I didn’t scare you away by talking to you the way I did during our last conversation. I can’t help it, you know? You’re just so gorgeous and you’ve been so good to us that my brain promptly goes into flirtation mode. 
Anyway, yeah, I want to hear how your Christmas went and if Derek’s family was good to you.
-Eddie
Honey, 
Merry Christmas! 
Ed forgot to mention that we did get your gifts and are incredibly thankful for the books. Since I was arrested I’ve opened my mind when it comes to reading and Munson’s fantasy books at least take me away mentally to a different world. 
He’s right by the way… you are incredibly beautiful. 
Would you be open to seeing us in person? 
Just a nice friendly visit where we can talk about your project and get to know you more. 
If not we completely understand.
-Steve
##########################
February 1997
Eddie & Steve, 
I’m sorry I haven’t come by or answered the phone. After our last visit, I just…
I love Derek but I care about you both so much. When you kissed me We have to keep this professional. Not just because of my boyfriend but because I’m studying to be a lawyer. How would it look if I fell in love started a relationship with inmates I’m working with?
Please understand.
-Y/N
#######################
February 1997
Sweetheart,
We understand but you have to also understand that we’ve never met anyone like you. You’re so kind and beautiful. You listen to what we have to say and actually care about us. I can still feel your lips against mine and nothing in my life has ever tasted as sweet. 
Can you still feel me, princess?
For the first time in almost 11 years, I actually have some hope. 
Does he make you feel like we do, honey? Your heavy breath against my mouth when I kissed you tells me no. I know we’re trapped here for the next 14 years but, baby, we can still take care of you. We just have to be a bit imaginative with certain things but….
No one has to know, baby, not even Derek. 
-Steve & Eddie
#######################
February 1997
Baby, 
Fuck, sweetheart, you have no idea how hearing you touch yourself over the phone got us going. If we could have private phones we would have stroked our cocks for you so you could hear how much you turn us on.
I can still hear your heavy pants in my ear while you fucked your fingers. 
I’m playing with myself right now at the thought of how tight that young little pussy is. Fuck… picturing those sexy hips slam against me as you ride my dick. Do you like it rough or nice and slow? Delicate, just like you, pretty girl. 
Shit. I just came so hard. 
Would you let Steve and I fill you up? Make you really ours?
I wish we could fall asleep with you between us. I’d give anything to hold you in my arms and play with your hair. 
Can’t wait to see you again, princess. 
-Eddie.
############################
April 1997
Honey, 
How did your test go for your class? I’m sorry we weren’t more helpful but I’m glad you brought your stuff to show us what you’ve been working on. It makes us so happy to see you working so hard and achieving your dreams. You deserve all the good things in this world. 
I’ve been thinking about you since we last saw you. Aren’t you glad now you wore that sexy skirt?
God, I can still smell you on my fingers. I loved feeling you cling to my arm as I thrust them into your tight little cunt. We have to work on silencing those moans a bit more : ).
I keep having dreams about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock just looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes while I fuck your throat. 
Do you think about us? Tell us all your fantasies, baby. 
We love you. 
-Steve
#######################
April 1997
Eddie & Steve, 
You are such bad boys, you know that? I like it though…
Sometimes when I’m writing to you, Derek will walk by and I feel naughty but giddy. I’m doing something I definitely shouldn’t be doing. When we have sex, I don’t see him anymore. 
I just see you two. 
I wish I could take care of you the way you do me. I want to feel you both inside of me, stretching me open. I want to choke on Steve’s cock and ride Eddie till I can’t walk. I want to feel you both cum inside me and make me yours. 
I love you to…so much… 
I hate to ask this after everything but Derek would like to film you guys for his project. I’ll be there to so you won’t be alone with him and I can use the footage when I start working on my graduation project later down the line. 
After everything, if you don’t want to I completely understand. 
I’ll call you both tomorrow. 
-Y/N
##########################
May 1997
Please, 
I’m so sorry! The prison said you aren’t allow visits for the next month after what happened and you aren’t taking my calls. 
I didn’t know those were the questions he was going to ask you, I swear. 
After the stupid bullshit he pulled, I broke up with him and kicked him out of our apartment. 
I know you both are innocent and I don’t feel the same way he does. 
I love you so much. 
-Y/N
################
May 1997,
Don’t break up with him. He’s right. We’re fucking criminals and—
Y/N,
Eddie is still upset but we do believe that you didn’t know he was going to blind side us. We just needed some time to compose ourselves. The questions Derek asked about those kids, Nancy, and then seeing him kissing you when we walked in just fucking… It was too much. 
Add in the fact that he made some points, you know?
By the time, we get out of here we’ll be in our late 40’s essentially starting over. It’s going to be so hard for us to get a job and other things like a house or a car. People will always look down on us for something we didn’t do but they believe we did. 
You’re going to be this badass attorney with men your age groveling at your high heeled feet to give you the world. 
We’re scared about dragging you down with us. You deserve the world, baby girl.
Just give us a bit more time, ok? During this time, I want you to think about if being with us is the life you really want. Really think about it, Y/N. 
We love you to… no matter what.
--Steve & Eddie
###########################
August 1997
Eddie & Steve, 
I’m sitting in my first class this semester and I am already exhausted. I started my new job at The Hideout and I left at like 3am. I got some good tips though so that will help with tuition. I can also send you guys anything if you need something. 
I heard your appeal was denied again. 
I’m so sorry.
With cases like yours, it’s so hard to get those pushed through and approved. 
I’m thinking about you two every minute. When I crashed, I kept wishing I had your arms around me. 
I’ll call you tonight before my shift. 
I love you!
-Y/N
########################
August 1997, 
Baby, 
Yeah, we’re kind of over it now. After so many denials, you just kind of give up trying. It was like that with my dad and his case. Then again he was just a repeat offender and I’m a murderer so.
You didn’t tell us you were working at The Hideout. I used to play my guitar there with my band when I thought I would be a rockstar. I’m not gonna be anything now.
I’m sorry, sweetheart. I guess we’re just a bit low right now. 
I wish we could be there with you to. I want to fall asleep to your voice talking to me about everything. I could listen to you talk for hours, babe. 
Don’t overwork yourself. 
Love you,
--Eddie 
Honey, 
You never have to worry about sending us anything in here. We make enough money and then Wayne gives Eddie some to get by. 
My mom was there at our appeal. It was nice seeing her face again after all this time even though she didn’t talk to me or stick around to meet with me at the prison. 
I imagine my father didn’t know she was there. 
I agree with Munson, don’t over work yourself. 
We miss you. 
--Steve
######################
October 1997,
Y/N, 
We didn’t mean to scare you, baby, when you came to visit. We just… you were supposed to come visit us last week and you didn’t. You don’t answer when we call. 
We get worried. 
Please, sweetheart, answer the phone so we can talk. 
We love you, pretty girl. 
--Eddie
#######################
October 1997,
FUCK YOU! 
You don’t get to treat me the way you did when I took time out of my day to come to see you! Steve, you have no right shouting at me and degrading me in front of all your cell block friends. Eddie, you don’t get to grab my wrist and command that I “Lower my voice” when you both are sitting there talking down to me. 
The three of us know you weren’t worried about me but fucking jealous I’ve been brushing you off for someone else! 
I have shown you both nothing but respect and opened my heart to you from day one!
I’m sorry your both in the situation you are in. I genuinely am but I have given you no reason to think I’d ever hurt you by fucking cheating on you. 
I wouldn’t put my career and heart on the line like I have just to fucking throw it away that way. 
--Y/N
######################
October 1997
Little girl, 
I know you get off on being a bad girl but we swear to God, Y/N. You don’t get to talk to us the way you did during our visit. We understand that you have a busy life but that doesn’t give you the right to not show up or not answer the phone when you say you will. 
We may be convicts but we still have feelings. 
Telling us to “fuck off” or saying that bratty shit you said like “I’m sorry I’m busy” is not ok. 
Respect is earned. 
Let’s also not forget, Y/N, that you cheated on your boyfriend with us. It’s not farfetched for us to think you may spread your legs for more tips at the bar you work at. 
Don’t play this game with us, princess. You won’t win. 
Eddie & Steve
#########################
October 1997
Edward Munson & Steven Harrington, 
I always win and I have more self-respect than you both seem to think I do. 
We’re done. 
--Y/N
#########################
October 1997
Ed and Stev, 
I hate you sooooooo much. I fell in love wit you and did things with u I’ve never done with ANYONE! Except fucking obviously : ). I never did get to feel those “big cocks” streting tearing me open. Why is that? Oh yeah…because youre in jail!
I was willing to wait bcause I loved you. I didn’t care if you’d be 40 someting when you got out. You will NEVER find someone like me again. 
I’ll move on though. Always do.
Hey check out this cute boy I met. I took a picture of him sucking my neck. I’m not drunk enough to send a video but you can use your imagination. 
You’re good at that especially when u r imagining me cheating on you with men like him. 
Assholes…
--Y/N
######################
October 30th, 1997
Trick or treat, little girl.
See you tonight. 
--Steve & Eddie
##########
Donate to me
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vbecker10 · 3 months ago
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Hi V!
How are you? I have add and i havent seen very many fics with someone who has add/adhd so i wanted to send this to you since i know you will do amazing with it! I have a fic idea request for you:
You are a new recruit to join the avangers one day you are in the gym with steve learning a new skill but you can't focuse or follow details instructions thanks to your add/adhd later on you are in your room trying to get a list of to dos but you get frustrated/can't get the chores done/distracted
Easily Distracted (Part 1)
Part 2 / Part 3 (in progress)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader (Y/N) - reader has ADHD
Summary: You've recently graduated from the SHIELD Training Academy and you couldn't be more excited or more nervous to start working as a probationary agent. You study and train, trying every way possible to prepare yourself for your evaluation in three months but your ADHD threatens to derail your progress, and so does Loki. Captain Rogers sees you struggling to succeed and steps in to help you in any way he can.
Warnings: Self-doubt, Loki being an ass, mild swearing (which Steve does not approve of), feeling like giving up
Background: Female reader has ADHD (Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder) with the following symptoms: inattention, hyperactivity, difficulty listening and finishing tasks, losing important things frequently, becoming distracted or sidetracked easily, trouble following instructions, difficulty staying organized and managing time
A/N: Thank you so much for sending this request @animnerd! I absolutely love it. Sorry it took me so long, I kept getting distracted while I worked on this one which I think is super ironic lol. We talked about this a bunch and I ended up tweaking the ask a bit to make it a longer story 🙂 I really hope you like this 💚
Thank you so much for these amazing dividers @jiyascepter I absolutely love them!
Also, this is officially my first Steve Rogers x reader fic so I hope you all like it! I just ended up tagging a few people from my Loki list cause I don't have a Steve list 🫣
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Day 1
You take a seat in the middle of the bus and huff a sigh of relief that you are finally on your way. The Avengers Tower is just under half an hour from your small, one bedroom apartment but it's all you can afford right now. It's only for a few months, you remind yourself with a hopeful smile.
Pulling your backpack onto your lap, you unzip the largest pocket and begin to double cheek that you have everything. One of the more annoying parts of your ADHD is how unorganized it can make you feel, this often results in you forgetting or losing things. The more important the item is, the easier it is for you to misplace it apparently. You mumble to yourself quietly as you feel around for your laptop, pens, ID badge and various other items you thought would be helpful today.
You sit back, bag still unzipped with your hands frozen as you think, I can't believe it's actually my first day as a probationary agent for SHIELD! I'm going to meet the Avengers and train with them, go on missions with them- your thoughts suddenly shift and you slump in your seat. If I make it to the end of the three month probationary period.
You survived the two year long SHIELD Training Academy, but just barely. Having ADHD made following detailed instructions, focusing on long lectures and completing multi-step tasks extremely difficult. You struggled daily but never gave up, passing all of your exams and earning one of twenty probationary positions available in the New York office.
I can do three more months, you think positively, looking out the window of the bus as the city passes slowly. The next three months will be full of nonstop procedural meetings, group and one on one training sessions and skill assessments until your written exam and field evaluation. Three months to find out if I'm assigned a post as a field agent, an analyst or if I'm going to be fired and have to work mall security for the rest of my life, you think as the bus comes to a brief stop.
You're mind has wandered so far that you don't notice the announcement the driver makes until the bus starts moving again. Looking up from your still wide open bag, you see the Tower get further away and you immediately panic as you realize you missed your stop. You zip your bag quickly and run up the aisle. The driver rolls his eyes at your plea to be let off and opens the door at the next red light. You thank him and take off running the five blocks back, knowing you were already late when you left your apartment.
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You push through the most annoying revolving doors ever designed and step into the lobby of the Tower. Without stopping, you head for the elevators but a security officer gets up from his desk and yells for you to stop.
"Sorry," you walk back towards him, opening your bag as you dig around for your temporary ID badge. "I work here, I'm new," you explain with an awkward smile.
Happy sighs, sensing your nerves and says, "You need to take a breath and slow down. Scan your badge here then put it on, picture out and don't take it off while you're inside the building."
You nod, trying to take a deep breath as you set your ID badge in the scanner. It flashes red and Happy motions with his hand for you to flip it over. You laugh nervously and flip your ID but the screen lights up red again and you look at him with an awkward shrug. He takes the badge from you, rotates it, scans it and hands it back to you.
"Thanks," you put the lanyard around your neck, fidgeting with it immediately.
"Probationary agent orientation is on the tenth floor with Captain Rogers," he tells you and you nod, looking towards the elevators. "Good luck," he waves at you when you take off and you hear him mutter, "You're gonna need it."
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"You're late," the tall, blonde super soldier says, crossing his muscular arms over his chest when you open the door to the small conference room. The nineteen other probationary agents in your unit turn to look at you as you stand frozen in the doorway.
"I know, I'm sorry, I-" you try to explain, panting hard from running down the hallway.
"I don't want excuses. You are expected to be on time," Captain Rogers says sternly, cutting off your words. He motions to an empty seat in the front of the room, his eyes tracking your path to the chair.
You nod and sit quickly, nearly knocking over the vacant chair with your bag. "Sorry," you offer a hushed apology to the surrounding agents who mumble and whisper to each other. You know most of them from the academy, although not well as you had been too focused on trying to pass to make any friends. They are clearly surprised you were accepted into this program and to be honest, you still are too.
"Agent Y/L/N, is it?" he asks, looking up from his clipboard as he flips back and forth between the pages. You are too absorbed in unpacking your laptop from your bag to realize he is speaking to you. He takes a few steps towards you, waiting for you to look up and acknowledge him but you don't. "Agent Y/L/N," he says a bit louder, towering over you.
You let out a startled gasp and sit up straight, nearly knocking over the coffee of the person next to you when you bump the table. "Yeah?" you ask without thinking and he raises his eyebrow in response, waiting for you to correct yourself. "Um," you clear your throat. "Yes sir, Captain Rogers."
He grips the clipboard tightly with one hand and leans down towards you, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "You will not be late again, understood?"
"Yes sir," you nod in agreement, looking up at the super soldier.
He sighs and turns away from you, clearly annoyed but ready to move on thankfully.
By the time you've set up your laptop, Captain Rogers has started to erase all the information that was written on the large white board. You hold back a groan and try to type the remaining notes as quickly as possible, already knowing you'll need to reorganize them later.
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By the end of the day, you have officially gotten lost 3 times, been late to all but one of your meetings and left your ID badge in the woman's bathroom twice because the lanyard annoyed you.
You sigh deeply, placing your bag on one of the desks in the furthest corner of the library. You pull out the chair and prepare to settle in for a long night of review like you did every night in the academy. You need to organize all of your notes and study the map of the Tower. You take out your headphones and search on your phone for the right playlist, hoping the music will help you focus.
You open your laptop and think, tomorrow has to be better than today or I won't even make the 1 month mark.
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Day 2
A loud banging sound wakes you suddenly and sit up right in surprise, breathing rapidly. You look around, your hands gripping the desk and you spot Loki leaning against a nearby bookshelf with an open book in his hands. He looks down, flipping through the pages slowly seemingly unaware of whatever woke you. You rub your eyes and wonder what made that sound then suddenly it occurs to you that you are still in the library.
"Good morning agent," Loki says, closing his book and tucking it under his arm.
You stretch your back and use one hand to hide a yawn before realizing he smiling at you. "Oh, morning," you respond a bit wary of his friendly expression. You hadn't met Loki yet but you had heard stories about him, everyone in the academy had. You look around for your phone but it's not on the desk, you must have knocked onto the floor while you slept.
"I would have thought you had somewhere to be this morning," he says in a smooth voice.
You see your phone on the floor, pushed back to the wall. "What?" you ask, barely paying attention to him as you get up from the chair and crawl under the desk to reach for your phone.
"It's nearly 10am agent," he says and you lift your head quickly, slamming it on the underside of the desk.
"Fuck!" you yelp and rub your head with one hand, the other grabs your phone and you get to your feet. You gather your belongs as fast as you can, shoving everything into your bag without noticing the smirk that spreads across Loki's face.
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The second the elevator doors open, you run down the hall towards the gym for your first one on one training session with Captain Rogers. You were already terrified about it, you didn't need to be late too.
You arrive at the gym, completely out of breath and swear when you pull on the door handle and it doesn't budge. "What the hell?" you ask, pulling the handle again then remember you need to swipe your ID badge. You reach for it but the lanyard is missing from your neck. "You've got to be kidding me," you mumble then kneel on the ground, taking off your bag and setting it in front of you. Pulling the contents out, you quickly lose hope that you'll find it.
The door opens and you look up from the ground at Captain Rogers. "Oh, you're here early," he checks his watch.
"I'm early?" you ask utterly confused, sitting back on your heels. You check your phone which you realize you haven't done yet. It's 7:45, an hour and 15 minutes before you even need to be at the Tower.
"Why are you on the ground?" he chuckles a bit, asking his own question in response.
"Oh, sorry sir," you look around at the mess surrounding you and haphazardly shove everything into your bag for the second time in fifteen minutes. "I can't find my ID badge," you admit, getting up off the ground. "Please don't report me, sir, I know where it is," you are suddenly filled with dread.
"I-" he starts to answer to but your attention is pulled away by the sound of two sets of approaching footsteps. You turn your head to see the two Asgardians heading towards you.
Loki smirks devilishly, "Nice to see you again agent."
"You've met?" Steve asks and you almost think he sounds a bit worried as he looks between you and Loki.
"Not formally, no," Loki says, "I ran into our young recruit sleeping in my favorite section of the library."
"You told me it was almost 10," you fold your arms over your chest as your annoyance bubbles to the surface.
"I have been known to lie, little one," he winks and you take an uncomfortable step away from him.
"Leave her alone, Laufeyson," Steve says, stepping between you and Loki. The God of Mischief shrugs, quickly losing interest in you.
"Well I haven't met her yet," Thor says cheerfully. He reaches out to shake your hand, gripping you tightly but not enough to hurt, "Thor."
"Yea, I know," you giggle a bit nervously as the God of Thunder continues to shakes your hand. "I'm Y/N," your eyes flicker to Captain Rogers and you correct yourself quickly. "Agent Y/L/N, probationary agent at the moment."
"Ah, one of Steve's recruites," Thor laughs warmly and pats Steve on the back hard enough to make the super soldier wince. "He'll take good care of you." Thor turns towards the door to the gym as Loki scans his ID badge and the door unlocks.
"Shit," you mumble under your breath, remembering that you misplaced your ID badge. Your outburst draws Steve's attention back to you.
"Language, please," he rubs his shoulder where Thor hit him.
"Right, sorry," you bite your lip knowing that's not the worst swear word you'll use today. "Ah, I mean, sorry sir," you correct yourself again. You had been terrible at remembering to speak properly to officers in the academy and it got you in a lot of trouble.
"You don't need to do that if we aren't in a formal setting," he says and you realize he seems much more relaxed and less terrifying than yesterday. "But why do you keep swearing?"
"I left my ID badge in the library," you point vaguely down the hall even though that's not the way to the library, "But I need my ID badge to get in the library and anywhere else for that matter."
"I'll go with you," he responds in a friendly tone, bending down to hand you a pen you had missed when you were cleaning up your belongings.
"You don't have to, I know you're busy," you tell him but he just smiles. "I'll just... stand awkwardly outside the library until someone shows up," your voice trails off.
"Right, that's a much better idea," he laughs as he starts walking towards the elevator and you put your bag over your shoulder, trying to catch up to him. "I have a feeling you're going to get lost if I let you go by yourself," he looks down at you as you move next to him.
"It's a big building," you try to defend yourself but he just laughs again, shaking his head lightly.
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Day 7
"Agent Y/L/N, I would like to speak with you a moment," Loki says when everyone gets up at the end of his lecture.
"Me?" you ask nervously as you freeze in place.
"Is there another Agent Y/L/N here?" he asks in response and a few of your fellow agents laugh quietly.
"No," you answer sheepishly and he nods. You finish packing your laptop into your bag and put it over your shoulder, trying to swallow your fear. Loki makes you uncomfortable even at a distance so saying you're not thrilled about being alone with him is an understatement. The other agents file out of the room, talking amongst themselves, no doubt about you.
You slowly make your way to Loki, dread building with each step. He leans on the desk at the front of the room, his arms folded as he watches you approach. Your anxiousness makes him smile and you break eye contact first when you stumble over your own dragging feet.
"I have been watching you, agent," he tells you and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, "And you do not belong here."
"What?" you ask, you had no idea what Loki wanted to talk to you about but you didn't think this was it. "Yes I do. I-"
"You will not succeed here," he interrupts you and your mouth hangs open at his harsh statement. "I have seen how easily distracted you are, how confused you get with even basic instructions. You are late to everything, you still wander this building utterly lost and you cannot focus."
"I can do better," you tell him, your voice shaky as he lists all the flaws you've been trying to manage. "I made it through the academy, I can do this," you say, trying to convince yourself and the God of Mischief.
"I don't believe that is true," he says.
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You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffing as you reread the email you've typed on your phone. The bus stops at a red light and you look out at the city, lowering your head when it begins to move again.
Sighing deeply, you adjust a spelling mistake then add your name to the bottom of the email. Closing your eyes for a moment, you remember your conversation with Loki a few hours ago as well as the whispered comments from the other agents in your unit. You open your eyes, wiping your tears once more and hit send.
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Day 8
"What can I do for you Cap," Agent Hill asks from behind her desk.
"Have you seen Agent Y/L/N? She's usually late for our morning training session but it's been nearly half an hour," Steve says, stepping inside her office.
"Oh, you didn't hear?" she asks, then takes a sip of her coffee.
"Hear what?" Steve shrugs.
"She quit," Agent Hill informs him.
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You click through the pizza delivery app and order your usual, a TV show you're barely paying attention to plays in the background. You hit the order button and sit back, picking up a fidget cube you keep on your end table.
There is a knock on your door and you laugh as you get up, "Either the pizza guy is getting a big tip or-"
Your voice cuts off when you open the door and see Steve Rogers standing in the hall of your apartment building. "Hello Y/N," he says, his smile warm but it does little to calm the nerves that suddenly spread through you.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
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cameronspecial · 1 year ago
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I Will Marry You, Rafe
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.0K (Exactly, that's so satisfying to me).
Summary: Rafe has an important question to ask Y/N.
Masterlist
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Rafe rarely gets nervous. The only time that he really does is when it comes to Y/N. She is his entire world and he would do anything to keep her in his life. And as he stares down at the small diamond ring, he can’t help but feel the layer of liquid that dampens his palms. He wipes it off on his pants as he listens to the MC announce the names of each student. He closes the box and puts it in his pockets when they get to Y/N’s section. “Y/N Y/L/N,” leaves the lips of the MC and travels through the room thanks to the speakers. Rafe is the first to stand out of her group of supporters, “That’s my girl! GO Y/N. I love you, Angel!” He hollers and claps as loud as he can, pumping his hand in the air. He is so proud of how hard she has worked to get her degree with honours. She has kept her grades up and now, she gets to start her master’s degree at her first-choice university. He sees her looking at him with a massive grin. He quickly gets his phone out to take a picture of her getting handed her degree, checking that her family videotaped her walk across the stage. They have prime seats, being right behind the students waiting to go on stage. Rafe’s money definitely shifted hands for him and the Y/L/N family to have such amazing seats. He follows her walk off of the stage, worrying that she won’t be happy with the question he has to ask. 
——
His jacket drapes over her shoulders, providing warmth against the cold night. They are walking up the steps of the house they have been renting since the semester ended. The house isn’t something permanent, just a placeholder until they find a place in Cambridge. Ward didn’t love the idea of Rafe moving out to Massachusetts, but he knows how serious Rafe is about Y/N so Ward agreed to let Rafe work remotely for the year that Y/N is doing the Master’s. Rafe would have to fly down every month for a Friday meeting, but they are going to make it work. 
Y/N cuddles closer to Rafe with his arm draped across her shoulder. “I can’t believe we are done with our undergraduate degree,” she thinks out loud, resting her head on his shoulder. His head darts to check the text on his phone and then looks at her. His lips meet her temple before he removes his hold from her, taking the keys out of his pocket. He unlocks the door and hesitates to push it open. His life is going to change after tonight and he is scared it might change for the worse. He also isn’t sure if he should’ve tasked his fraternity brothers with such an important thing. Sure, Sarah, Wheezie, and Daisy are leading them, but the now-graduated fratboys were never great at decorating or following orders. He knows if he doesn’t enter the house soon, Y/N will get suspicious. His thumb pushes down on the thumb latch and he pushes the door open. The usual darkness is cut with the light from the path made out of candles. She turns to him to see if he is just as confused as she is. All she finds is his small smile and things start to fall into place for her. 
“I will marry you, Rafe,” she utters softly, wrapping her arms around his neck to kiss him. He pulls away with a laugh, “I haven’t even asked you anything yet.” “I know, but I can see right through you. I’ve noticed how nervous you are and how you are always checking your phone for a text. That coupled with the house being mysteriously decorated makes it kinda obvious,” she grins, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. He groans, “Damn, my angel is so smart. You read me like a book. Will you at least let me take you inside and do what I had planned?” She nods and he drags her deeper into the house. 
In the living room, they find eight large characters, decorated with white feathers and fairy lights. Eight characters. Two words and a question mark. MARRY ME? Y/N’s hand finds her mouth. The beauty of the dim room amazes her. Candles and rose petals litter the room and the melody of “Say Yes To Heaven” plays without the lyrics, reminding her of that fateful night during spring break. She turns toward Rafe to find him kneeling on the ground on one knee. In his hand, he holds a small velvet box with a simple but elegant diamond ring inside of it. “When I first saw you at that party three years ago, I thought I was so intoxicated that I was seeing things. Because there was no way that a real-life angel could’ve been right in front of me and ever since that day you have been bringing a little slice of Heaven to me,” he recounts and she can see the tears in his eyes. “You have been my everything ever since that day. My supporter. My defender. My rock. And I want that for the rest of my life, so please say that you will be the angel to my devil for the rest of our lives?” She goes to sit on his thigh and he moves his arms to surround her. Her arms go around his neck and she rests her forehead on his. “Yes.”
He grins at her, kissing her as he puts the ring on her left ring finger. He feels so lucky that he gets to spend the rest of his life with the woman in front of him. People may think that they are too young to be getting married, but Rafe has never been so sure of something in his life.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia
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fairuzfan · 9 months ago
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What can non-Palestinians do to support connection with the culture currently? I know many are donating and protesting currently so I wanted to ask specifically about cultural connection and supporting those efforts after your last post
Oh! That post was mostly meant for people in @witchywitchy reblogs in another post of theirs where people called using the Arabic original names of towns — which to be clear Palestinians do that as a form of resistance against being forgotten because we are at a pretty immediate risk of that happening and we strongly resist using the Israeli names for towns as they're enforced on us through colonization — as "ahistorical," thereby denying that israel is a colonial state. These people always talk about "caring about palestinians" but then actively ridicule our customs lol.
My biggest thing is to learn about Palestinian culture. Participate in it if you can. Donate to cultural heritage institutions. As a cultural heritage worker, I can tell you a lot of us do projects for free. If you're in a position of leadership, I encourage you to reach out to people and offer to pay them for their knowledge and bring them over to work on/present on things.
I cannot emphasize enough how little we get paid in these situations and sometimes we're even looked down on for getting money for our work. I have done like graduate level presentations for free — it was fine I volunteered to do it and loved it, but I would also like to be paid for doing work lol. And many others would as well.
I would seek our other cultural professionals and institutions and engage with their work. I can put together a list of people I follow/read from later on when I have time. But spreading their work is really important.
I share Samah Fadil and Rasha Albulhadi a lot on here — that's because their words as writers speak deeply to the heart of palestinian diaspora and resistance. I think also @fiercynn has a series on poets and writers.
I shared a post earlier on musicians and Palestinian music. Give those people some views and boost them in the algorithm! Support Palestinian artists! Commission them! There's so much you can do! Even just spreading their work around does so much for us!!
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serasvictoria · 1 year ago
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Title: The Hair
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: Steve returns from a roadtrip with Eddie with longer hair than usual and it really, really works for you.
Word Count: 8849
Content warning: 18+ only. Minors dni. Smut. Oral sex (f receiving). Vaginal fingering. Hair pulling (that one's a given). Swearing. Teasing. Overstimulation. Masturbation (m receiving). Nicknames (not a Y/N in sight). Reader is kinda shy at times, because you know… Steve.
Notes: This fic has been based entirely on those pictures of Joe in Finalmente L'Alba. You know the ones that I’m talking about.
Beta read by @adrille88 ❤️ Any remaining mistakes are mine.
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Robin’s cackle could be heard throughout the room. One hour in and she still thought that it was the funniest thing that she had ever seen.
“Yeah, Robs, I know.” Even though you couldn’t see Steve’s face from this angle, you could tell that he was rolling his eyes. “Very funny.”
“I can’t help it.” She collapses into another fit of giggles and slumps into Vickie’s side. “It’s just so long.”
And it was. Steve’s hair had gotten significantly longer during his time away and it had been the first thing that everyone present had commented on when they saw him during this little “welcome back” celebration.
Steve and Eddie had gone on a road trip when the latter had finally graduated, a small celebration for the boy who had ventured past state lines only once before when he had gone to Chicago, and they’d been gone for almost three months.
They kept in touch through postcards, most of which were stuck to Robin and Chrissy’s fridge with some of the ugliest kitschy magnets that you had ever seen, but none of the hastily scribbled messages on the cards ever mentioned anything about Steve’s current hair situation.
“Getting a haircut wasn’t that important,” Steve sighed, “but Jesus, I’ll get it done tomorrow if you keep acting like this.”
A harsh noise, a gasp of alarm, escapes from your lips and you don’t even notice that you’ve done it until you see that several eyes are on you. You try to save face by shrugging and turning your head away from Steve’s luscious locks, but when Eddie sniggers loudly you know that you had failed to make your small outburst look like it was nothing.
“Okay,” Robin says, eyebrows arched with obvious amusement. “Yeah, I guess you could do that, Stevie, but maybe hold off on it for a while? It might grow on me.”
“As long as you stop pulling my hair,” he mumbles under his breath, “it stopped being funny about an hour ago.”
“Yeah, to you,” Robin counters. “But not to me.”
Her hand reaches for his hair again, already grinning, not being particularly subtle about her intentions. Steve jerks away from her and suddenly they’re caught in something that would look like a minor scuffle to outsiders, but everyone that’s present knows that it’s more akin to a playful round of roughhousing between siblings.
“Careful, careful!” Chrissy calls out when they narrowly miss the second hand coffee table, almost spilling the drinks and snacks all over the floor. “It’s not like we can replace stuff if you guys break it.”
“Yeah, you ruffians, break it up.” Eddie materializes between the duo, coming to Chrissy’s rescue and making a T-shape with his hands to signify a time-out. Robin still manages to reach around him to give one final yank on Steve’s hair. “Fuck’s sake, Buckley. Don’t break the serious sanctity of the time-out.”
Robin barks out a laugh. “Oh, is that what it was? Thought that was the T of… the T of…”
While Robin was grappling to come up with a word that began with the letter T that could be applied to the current situation, you slipped into the small kitchen.
Maybe you would do better if you gave yourself a little time out from Steve’s, quite frankly mesmerizing, long hair.
It has been a few years since you had been this preoccupied with his hair. It was the main topic of conversation in high school after all, a source of desire and yes, envy for some, as well. Because a boy with hair that great? There were many girls that would have killed to have the same amount of volume and texture.
You were safely tucked into the desire camp however. How could you not be? Steve was gorgeous.
Is gorgeous.
There‘s no denying the fact that that stupid teenage crush that you had on him is still present. The only difference now is that your long friendship with Vickie has brought you a lot closer to Steve than you had ever been before.
When you hear movement behind you, you think that it’s her at first, coming to find you to gush about something funny that Robin had done or said in private, but when you hear someone who is distinctly male clear their throat instead, you realize that you have no such luck.
“What are you hiding out in here for?”
Your eyes go wide as saucers when you turn to face him and Steve actually holds his hands up in an attempt to look less threatening, making you aware of the fact that you must look terrified.
“N-nothing.” Your reaction was more down to being in extremely close vicinity to him, because of the size of the kitchen. There was barely any space between you already and he was only standing in the doorway. “It was just… a bit crowded?” You frown, because that wasn’t the word that you were looking for. “I mean, that’s not exactly what I-“
“Rowdy?” Steve offers up helpfully.
“Yes!” Your exclamation makes you cover your mouth with your hand, shocking yourself with your small outburst, and when Steve laughs, you can feel your cheeks heat up from the potential embarrassment. “But a fun rowdy? If that makes sense?”
“A bit,” he admits. “That’s just what me and Robin are like. We bring it out in each other I guess and the hair definitely doesn’t help.”
“N-no,” you stutter as your attention is brought to his hair once more and you can’t help but bite your bottom lip as you stare. “It’s definitely distracting.” You try to stop there, really you do, but you still end up blurting out, “In a good way.”
Groaning softly, you attempt to cover your entire face with your hand. If the ground could swallow you up right this instance that would be great. Naturally, that doesn’t happen, but when you peek through your fingers, you see that Steve hasn’t left. He’s merely standing there, arms crossed in front of his chest and his head is tilted to the side, his brow pensive as if he’s deep in thought.
Clearing your throat, you shake your head as if you could shake off the awkwardness from moments before. Your eyes dart to Steve’s hair again and his gaze turns more curious when he notices.
“Okay,” he finally says with raised eyebrows. “Interesting.”
“What is?”
“You,” he counters swiftly and you can see his brow furrow. He looks like he wants to slap himself. “I mean, your response. It’s pretty telling, you know.” Getting called out on your obvious attraction to him wasn’t something that you had been expecting, yet here you were, and Steve doesn’t look disgusted. If anything, he almost looks more interested. “And don’t try to deny it, I’m not an idiot.”
“Never thought you were.”
Sometimes people liked to point out Steve’s lack of intelligence, even back in high school because he didn’t really excel academically. The prevailing image of him being a dumb jock was ridiculous anyway. His grades were alright. Not top of the class, but he wasn’t at the bottom either.
They were above average most of the time, but when his grades dropped after Nancy broke up with him, everyone seemed to treat it as confirmation of what people had been saying behind his back all along. He still managed to pick himself up when exams rolled along, but it hadn’t helped sway opinion much.
It was an opinion that you did not share however.
Steve was smart. The information that interested him was just different. A conversation that he had with Lucas Sinclair on sports earlier only confirmed it.
Batting averages rolled off his tongue like they were nothing, even going as far as remembering what Wade Boggs’ average was back in ‘82. Name a Major League player and Steve would know exactly why he was better or worse than another player.
Same thing for basketball and ice hockey. You had even overheard him talking about volleyball once. Technically, it was women’s beach volleyball, but it still counted.
The only sports that Steve didn’t seem to care for were soccer and lacrosse. You highly suspected that the only reason that he didn’t like lacrosse was because his dad used to play it in college, apparently. That was a nice little piece of information that you had gained from Robin in Steve’s absence.
“True,” he smiles. “Don’t recall you ever saying anything about that.”
How he would know that was anybody’s guess, seeing how you must have been nothing more than another face in the school hallways, but you don’t question it. For a couple of seconds you even find yourself believing that he would have noticed you, however impossible that may seem.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Steve,” you smile back. The awkwardness has finally settled. Maybe you can actually be normal around him for once. “Anyway.” You turn back to the cans and bottles on the counter and make a sweeping gesture with your arm. “What’s your poison?”
“Think I’ll have-“
Steve treats your question as permission to step into the kitchen. Your breath catches in your throat, when he leans in closer, making you turn the front of your body to the counter. 
He eagerly takes advantage of this and puts his hand on your lower back. You feel his hand slide down, can feel his fingers flex as they settle right above the curve of your ass. His face comes into view next to you and he keeps his eyes on yours as his right hand reaches towards the cans blindly.
“-this one.”
“Apple Slice?” Tearing his eyes away from your face to look at the can that he was holding, his expression flashes to one of brief disappointment, which makes you snort in obvious amusement. He was clearly going for one of the cans of Blue Ribbon behind it, but that was not what he ended up with. You stifle a laugh and add, “Wow. Didn’t know you liked that stuff.”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Steve opens the can and takes a sip, deciding to stick with his (accidental) choice. If it wasn’t for the fact that his nose crinkled in disgust, you might even have believed him. “I drink it all the time.”
“Sure you do.” You take the can of beer that he had his eye on and hold it out to him. “I’ll trade you.”
“Nah, I’ll pass.” He leans against the counter right next to where you’re standing. “I love this stuff, everybody knows that.”
“Sure they do,” you laugh. “That’s why you’ve been drinking it all night.”
“How would you even know what I’ve been drinking? You been keeping an eye on me?”
“What?” Your cheeks suddenly feel so hot that you swear that they’ve just caught fire. You hold the can against your cheek in the hopes of cooling yourself down, but the can’s lukewarm so it doesn’t help one bit. “No! Wh-why would I- I was just assuming, okay?”
The implication of his words were to poke fun at you, but you panicked all the same. You know what you wanted it to be, but there was no chance in hell that Steve Harrington was flirting with you.
No way. Impossible.
“Relax,” he replies, his voice softer suddenly as if he was doing his utmost not to spook you. “I was joking.”
You breathe a sigh of relief when he confirms it, calm setting in once more. Who knew that talking to Steve could have this effect on you. You would have liked to have been able to display a much cooler aura, but that persona seemed to have jumped out of you and ran for the hills the second that Steve came closer to you.
Not that you had ever been like that at all, but still.
“Do you want this or not?” you blurt out and you hold the can up just in case he thought that you were offering up something else. “Last chance.”
“Fine.” Steve takes it this time, your fingers brushing together when he trades cans with you. “But only because you were desperate.”
“I’m not-“ When Steve stifles a laugh, you turn your head in the opposite direction and find yourself staring at a grocery list that’s hanging on the old fridge. “Not funny.”
“Oh, come on. I couldn’t help myself, you’re real cute when you’re flustered.” You turn your entire body away from him, but you’re only doing it to hide your growing smile from him. “Seriously? You’re not talking to me?” You shake your head and he lets out a soft groan. “I was willing to give you my best puppy dog eyes, too.”
“Y-you were?”
“She speaks! But yes, I was.” You chew on your bottom lip to stop yourself from saying anything, because you don’t want to seem too eager. “In fact, I’m still going to do it. I think that you’ve earned it.”
When you finally turn around to face him once more, you’re subjected to the full force of his hazel eyes (looking every bit like he’d gotten private lessons from doe-eyed Eddie Munson), and his bottom lip is pushed out into a pout. He looks silly and adorable all at once.
“You look ridiculous,” you giggle. “Stop doing that.”
“No way,” he says with a smirk. “I can keep this up all night if I have to.”
“Really?” The prospect of being subjected to it all night makes your heart swell about three sizes inside your chest. “I’d like to see you try.”
Steve bats his eyelashes in quick succession a couple of times until you’re laughing and you swat at his chest in an attempt to make him stop. He instantly makes a grab for your hand and keeps it pressed against his sternum.
The distance between the two of you closes somewhat, but Steve still leaves some space on the off chance that you might want to pull away.
It’s quite possibly the last thing on your mind.
The only thing that you’re thinking of is what Steve’s hair would feel like if you ran your fingers through it and if you’d get a chance to-
“Oh.” Chrissy’s voice pulls you out of the trance that Steve has put you under and you take a step away from him immediately. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
“No,” you blurt out.
“Yes,” Steve says at the same time.
“I’d offer to leave, but I live here,” Chrissy giggles melodically. “Give me a sec and I’ll get out of your hair though,” she adds with a wink in your direction.
“Oh no, you don’t have to…” You’re suddenly embarrassed that Chrissy might think that something was happening (it was but you didn’t quite want to believe it just yet). The idea of the former cheerleader offering to leave what was essentially her shared kitchen was too much to bear. “I should- erm-“ Your eyes fall on Steve, who looks more amused than anything else. “Talk to you later.”
When you leave to rejoin your friends in the neighboring living room, you can just about make out another one of Chrissy’s amused giggles and Steve’s hushed apology, but you don’t stick around to hear what he’s apologizing for.
The pair enters the living room a few short minutes later, Steve’s eyes immediately find you before Dustin Henderson almost rugby tackles him and pulls him into a conversation that he had been having with Eddie.
Over the following hours whenever you would hazard a glance in Steve’s direction, you would find that he was looking at you already and he flashes you the sad puppy dog eyes without fail every single time. Whenever he makes you laugh, a smug smile materializes on his handsome face, as if he just achieved something grand.
You don’t find yourself alone with Steve again though, making you think that the small moment that you had before had passed and entirely ignoring that it was more down to yourself ensuring that there was no opportunity for him to get you alone. You were in no mood to make yourself look like a fool any further.
The hours tick by until it’s almost twelve midnight and as if on cue, Robin started yawning loudly and exaggeratedly, to make sure that everyone knew that she was getting tired.
All talk then turns to who had come by car and who could drop who off.
Somehow, in the discussion that followed it, it had been decided that you would ride with Steve. How this decision had been made was a mystery to you since you lived nowhere near him and lived only a few blocks from Nancy Wheeler, but when you tried to bring that up, you were told that there was no more room in Nancy’s car. Apparently.
The little glances that several people shared was something that you failed to notice entirely, but if you had noticed you might have figured out that the entire thing had been orchestrated very carefully by your friends, by Vickie and Robin in particular.
There was no amount of planning that could get you in the passenger seat next to Steve though, because Dustin had called shotgun from the moment that he had insisted that he ride with Steve’s car (and had dragged a bewildered Lucas along with him).
When you got in the backseat next to Lucas, you breathed a little sigh of relief that you were not sitting in the front with Steve however, half-knowing that you would end up being a stiff mess for the entire ride. The back was safer, darker, and above all, a little bit further away from Steve.
The rest of the ride is pleasant. Dustin keeps talking about everything and nothing to fill Steve in about what he missed while he was away, even though he must have heard most of it this evening already.
They act more like siblings than anything else, though if you had to be honest, you had seen Steve act similarly towards some of the other teenagers that were present which had only endeared him to you further.
When Lucas is dropped off first, he and Steve make promises to watch a football game together soon, and he drops Dustin off not long after. Similar promises are made, but they’re more of the ‘give us a ride to the arcade’ kind than anything else.
As soon as Dustin closes the door behind him, you’re shifting in the backseat, thinking it would be too odd to keep sitting there all alone. You can be brave for a short while, you’d only be in the car for a few minutes after all.
As soon as you’re moving to open the door, your hand jerks away from the handle when Steve starts driving again.
“Steve!” His eyes find yours in the rearview mirror, not so much saying ‘what?’ with his mouth, but with his eyes instead. “I was going to sit up front.”
“You don’t have to,” he answers simply.
“You’ll look like my driver like this,” you grumble slightly. “It’ll look weird.”
“Really? You’re worried about that?” Steve chuckles and you don’t really notice that he just took the wrong turn. “There’s hardly anyone around right now.”
“You don’t know that.” You lean forward in your seat, your hand coming down to rest on his chair, your fingers close to his shoulder. “There’s this old guy on my street that’s always keeping ta- hey. This isn’t the way to my house.”
“Just taking a little detour,” Steve grins, not willing to divulge any more than that.
The road that he’s currently on takes you out of town and he looks at your face out of the corner of his eye, catches how your eyes widen significantly when you realize where he’s taking you.
“To Lover’s Lake?”
Saying it out loud sounded insane.
Steve Harrington appeared to be taking you to Lover’s Lake.
You.
“Been there before?” It was a question that he knew he shouldn’t ask, but it was out of his mouth before he noticed it. “You don’t have t-“
“Once,” you reply honestly. You catch the little flash of jealousy in his eyes before the streetlights fade out completely and the car hits the dirt road. “With Pete Tanner.”
“No way,” Steve says with a slight mocking laugh. “He’s such a dick.”
“Tell me about it,” you scoff. “He spent about half an hour groping me and assuring me that he knew what he was doing, which he didn't, I might add! I gave him a handjob just to get him to stop. It was a disaster.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah, it was awful.” The experience had been so off putting that you had turned down every other offer of ‘hanging out’ there that you had gotten after it. This was your first time going back there in two years. “He tried to get me to go with him again the next week, but I shot him down so bad that he never talked to me again.”
“Well, unlike him, I do know what I’m doing.”
Steve didn’t even have to elaborate on that, the stories that floated around about him were pretty positive in regards to that aspect after all. It kind of stopped when his star dropped in his last year of high school, but it had done nothing to diminish his reputation. If you wanted to have a good time, Steve was your man.
“I know, Steve,” you say finally, your voice softer and decidedly more shy.
“You do?”
“Girls talk,” you clarify, even if he must have known where you had gotten it from. “It’s not just guys that talk about their conquests, the girls do, too. I’ve heard plenty of stories about you before.” You fidget with the hemline of your shirt just to have a reason to avert your eyes. “So. I know.”
“You don’t,” he chuckles. “You really don’t, but you’ll find out soon enough.”
You know that he’s right, because no amount of gossip would be able to prepare you for, well… him. 
“And for the record, I don’t talk so whatever happens here tonight stays between you and me.” When he cuts the engine, you look out the window to see that he had already parked the car near the shore of the lake. Steve unclasps his safety belt, turns in his seat and fully faces you. “Now, I’m going to get into the backseat with you and then I’m going to kiss you, because I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
“For how long?”
“How long am I going to kiss you for? As long as you’ll let me.”
“Damn,” you say under your breath and you can feel your body temperature rising in anticipation. “B-but I meant, how long have you wanted to kiss me for?”
Steve doesn’t answer your question immediately. Instead he switches the car radio on and turns the dial until he finds a radio station that’s to his liking. As soon as the sounds of soft rock start playing, he gets out of the front seat and opens the door that Lucas got out of a couple of minutes previous. He slides in next to you just as Roxy Music’s Avalon starts playing.
“A while,” he says simply whilst closing the door behind him. “You think I never noticed you or something?”
“I’m not exactly-“ You gesture with your hand and try your best to avoid saying the names of any of his exes, who you definitely don’t resemble in any way. “You know.”
“No, I don’t know.” He moves in closer until his thigh is pressing into yours. His left hand moves towards your face and you close your eyes when his fingertips skim over your jaw. “You’re pretty.” He says it very matter of factly, as if you should have been aware of it before he told you. “Thought you were pretty in high school, too.”
“Really?” You open your eyes and when you see that his face is a lot closer than you were expecting it to be, you jerk away and inadvertently knock the back of your head against the window. “Ow.”
“Christ, you’re like a baby deer,” he says with a laugh. “So skittish.”
“Sorry.” You rub the back of your skull automatically, but it doesn’t hurt much. “I can’t help it. I blame you.”
“What did I do?” He leans back against the seats, making his long hair flop over his forehead and partially covering his eyes. “I’m just trying to make out with the pretty girl that’s been making eyes at me all night.”
“Said I was sorry,” you whisper.
You don’t think that Steve has ever looked more gorgeous to you than he does in this exact moment and it’s scrambling your brain. You can feel your cheeks burn and your first reaction is to hide your face behind your hands. Your fingers are parted, however, so you can still see Steve’s face.
“No you’re not.”
“I am.” His fingers encircle your wrists and he slowly but gently pulls your hands away from your face. “Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” He brings your hands up to his mouth and your breath hitches when he presses his lips to the tips of your fingers. “Huh?”
“For being like this. For not being… confident.”
“You think you need to say sorry for that?” His mouth drags down over your digits towards your palms and you swear you can feel his tongue darting out against your skin. “It’s a fucking turn-on.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I’m not usually- not li-“ He presses a light kiss to your wrist and it makes your stomach flip. The rest of the sentence comes out with a slight groan. “I’m never this bad.”
“You were confident enough earlier.”
“This is different.”
And it was. Being in a car with Steve and there being no possibility of anyone interrupting you changes things significantly. Earlier in the kitchen, there were no expectations, it was just some gentle back-and-forth flirting, you know that now, as you tried to get a feel for one another.
There were definitely expectations now, a chance of things going much further than before, and it was filling your stomach with butterflies and your brain with cotton wool. Being this close to Steve was making it hard to have any coherent thoughts whatsoever.
“Different how?” He looks up at you then, pausing his trail of kisses. You can feel his thumbs on your wrists, making soothing circular motions while you try to find your words.
“I didn’t think that we were… you know… going to do anything.”
“What else do people do at Lover’s Lake?”
“I don’t know!” That was a lie, because you did know. Everyone in town knew what happened at Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock. Maybe if you had lived under a rock these last few years, you could have been completely ignorant to it, but you knew. “Maybe you wanted to take me stargazing.”
“Baby, I want to make you see stars, but I wasn’t planning on taking you outside.”
“Oh my god,” you gasp. “That’s the kinda thing that’s-“
“Making you shy?” He laughs then, knowing full well how to get you flustered. “You thought I didn’t know that? You’re one of the only girls that would blush and giggle whenever I subjected you to my whole ‘ocean of flavor’ bullshit at Scoops.”
“No way was I the only one.” Other girls giggled and twirled their hair at him, too. You saw them ahead of you in line and  found yourself unfairly hating the girls that were confident enough to write their phone numbers on a napkin so they could slide it over to him. “No way.”
“Okay, maybe not, but you were definitely the cutest one. You could barely look me in the eye and then Vickie would have to order for you instead. It was cute as hell.” You burst out laughing at his confession. “You okay now?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m going to kiss you silly now.” A small affirmative noise in the back of your throat is all that you manage to offer in terms of a reply when Steve leans in closer. He pauses when he’s close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your face. “Still okay?” You nod, but he’s not letting you off the hook that easily. “With words please.”
“I-I am,” you stutter, “I’m great.”
“You sure? Because you don’t look it,” he grins mischievously. He swipes a finger from the top of your spine up to your hairline. You could feel the heat there before, where some wisps of hair had stuck to your skin, and now he can feel it too. “You coming down with somethin’?”
The only thing that you manage to do is huff in annoyance, words of disagreement already on your tongue, threatening to spill out. There’s not much chance for them to do so, because he takes the opportunity to kiss you now.
It’s a light peck. Just to get things started. No more, no less. But you let out a content sigh all the same. It makes Steve smile again, the ease with which he can read you amusing him to no end.
You whine in displeasure, already impatient that Steve’s making you wait for more.
“Relax, baby,” he breathes against your parted lips, “I was only teasing.”
He starts kissing you in earnest a split second later. And boy, can Steve Harrington kiss.
You had heard the stories, plenty of them, all of them overheard as other girls tried to outdo their friends, but none of their descriptions lived up to the real thing.
Feeling his lips on yours is making you tingle, as if electricity is coursing through him and it’s literally making sparks fly whenever he kisses you. When you feel his hand on your neck, his thumb on the corner of your jaw and his pinkie on your collar bone, it makes your skin prickle there, too.
His tongue swipes over the crease of your mouth and he does it again when you don’t grant him access quickly enough. It makes you feel better that Steve is just as impatient as you seem to be.
When his tongue finally delves into your mouth, you find that he tastes like the beer that he had earlier, but more surprising are the citrus undertones, the ones that are also sticking to his skin whenever you breathe in deeply through your nose. You can practically feel the oranges explode on your lips and the juices penetrate your mouth.
You wonder how much of that is down to your imagination or if Steve does indeed taste faintly of ripe oranges.
He’s blissfully unaware as to what’s going through your mind as your tongues slide over each other. All that he knows is that he wants more than what you’re offering him right now.
Your lips part and he presses his forehead against yours. You’re breathing heavily and you swallow hard enough for him to hear it. Your exhales intermingle with the hot air that’s coming from him, you feel it curl over your lips and spread outward over your cheeks.
Steve nudges the tip of his nose against yours and you both huff a laugh. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him like he’s a lifeline. He says nothing about it, but merely keeps looking at you and waits for your breathing to even out.
“Hey,” he finally says, “you still okay?”
“Perfect.” You tilt your chin up until your lips touch again and you murmur against his mouth, “You got me all lightheaded.”
“From a kiss?” When you nod, he chuckles softly. “That’s nothing.”
You’re a little bit more prepared when he dives back in again, your lips crashing back into each other as he hits you full force. You can’t get enough of him and it feels like the feeling is very much mutual.
Confidence floods back into you, all because you’re with him right now, because he seems to have picked you. He noticed you, well before this night apparently, and it was making you more bold, more powerful.
You start pushing back a bit, your teeth nipping at his lips, your tongue pushing into his mouth until you have him going all breathless instead. You can feel him shudder when you press your hand against his stomach, the muscles twitching under your palm.
Not wanting to be outdone, Steve takes back control a little by putting his hands on your hips and sliding them to the back until he’s grabbing two handfuls of your ass. You squeak when he lifts you up from the seat, making you plant your hands against the roof of the car, head tilting backwards and opening up your neck which he immediately latches on to with his lips.
“Ah.” Your head is spinning, already drunk on him and the way that he’s leaving gentle kisses on the column of your throat definitely isn’t helping. When he starts sucking on your pulse point, you moan his name, “Steve.”
“Right there?” You heave a sigh when he does it again and soon he’s putting more suction on your skin as if he’s trying to mark you. “You like that?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Yeah, I like it.”
“Thought so,” he says in between open mouthed kisses. “Love those noises you’re making, baby. You gonna make more of them for me?”
“If you want me to.”
“I want you to.”
“Wouldn’t be able to stop anyway,” you pant in reply. “Fuck, Steve.”
“Like that,” he says, voice sounding needy and heated. “Just like that.”
Nothing but a string of whines tumble from your lips as Steve continues his assault on your neck, but his mouth keeps moving down lower until it hits the collar of your shirt. He pulls it down as far as it can go so he can lick the dip above your sternum before veering outward to the parts of your collarbones that he managed to uncover.
Your hips are grinding against nothing at all, desperately needing some kind of friction, hoping that Steve will take the hint since his hands are still on your ass and nothing seems to be able to make them move.
When they finally shift, you breathe a sigh of relief, because you can finally feel his long fingers on the front of your body, gliding up your torso until they’re touching the underwire of your bra… where they then come to a complete standstill again.
The constant teasing is really starting to get to you. You’re so ridiculously hot for the guy that you swear you’ll scorch your way from the leather upholstery all the way down to the chassis.
It would appear that Steve is able to tell that you’re seconds away from reaching your limit however.
Your back is pushed against the door until there’s nothing left for you to do but sit in the seat sideways facing him. Steve follows you and soon he’s sitting on his knees between your parted legs. His hands are on your knees and he slides them down the inside of your denim clad thighs, fingers dancing over the inside seam, down towards where you’re searing hot for him.
Your hips push up instinctively, only to feel his digits move upwards to your hips, missing where you wanted to feel them the most completely.
“Ah, ah,” he tuts, “not yet.”
When you pout, he chuckles and you highly suspect that he likes seeing you like that a little bit too much, seeing how something like this has happened a couple of times already.
Sweet merciful release comes when he finally slides his hands under your shirt and cups your breasts through the rather plain white bra that you’re wearing. He pulls the cotton cups down and you arch your back into his palms when you feel his warm skin against yours.
“Baby, could you-“ Before he could finish his sentence, you were already leaning forward, grabbing the bottom of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it into the front seat. “Someone’s eager,” he grins as he gets his first view at your (almost) bare chest. “So fuckin’ pretty.”
You grab at his shoulders, tugging on his shirt, but he surges forward to smash his lips into yours first before whipping his shirt off with the same level of eagerness as you had taken off yours. His shirt joins yours in the front, hanging over the steering wheel.
Your hand shakes slightly when you reach for him, the palm of your hand connecting with his bare chest. You had seen him like this plenty of times when he was still the swim team captain, like so many other girls that came to cheer him on during high school, but you had never thought that you would be able to touch him like this.
There’s barely enough time for you to run your hand from his clavicle down to the top of his jeans before he kisses you hungrily again. He barely allows you time to breathe and every time that your lips part, you’re taking in large gulps of air, almost forgetting to breathe entirely if it wasn’t for your burning lungs alerting you to the fact that air was desperately needed.
“Steve,” you whine when his chest hair rubs against your hardened nipples.
“I know, baby,” he replies and before you know it, his hands are on your jeans, undoing the button and tugging them down your legs. Your underwear comes along with them, but you could care less. When he realizes that your lower half is bare, his eyes widen a fraction, barely visible from the faint green glow of his car stereo. “Let me look at you. All of you.”
Taking the hint, you reach around your back to take your bra off and playfully throw it right at him. He brushes it off the leather seat and it slides down to the floor, where you think you’ll leave it when he drops you off at the end of the night, just to give him something to remember you by.
You put your hands on your knees and slowly start pulling your legs apart, baring yourself to him completely. Steve’s eyes drop to the apex of your thighs, his hunger for you plain to see on his face, even in the mostly dark car.
One leg slips off the bench and you push the other one up, hooking your ankle over the headrest. You sigh, contented and warmed by his gaze, and your hands glide over your thighs, until they come to a stop on the lower part of your belly.
“Well, fuck,” Steve finally growls. “Pretty as a picture.”
Rushing forward, he’s on top of you in a flash, lips smashed together and his hands massaging your tits. His hips undulate against yours, the zipper of his fly catching your clit until you’re gasping and sighing into his mouth. You wrap your legs around his hips, the balls of your feet digging into his ass, pulling him closer into you until you’re sure that you must have soaked through the thick fabric of his jeans.
It’s embarrassing how fast you come like this, with his pants still on, but when Steve leans his forehead against yours so you can just make out his winning smile, you know that this was probably his intention all along.
His lips hit the corner of your mouth, then your chin, and then he starts kissing a trail down your body that’s still glowing until you feel his tongue circling one of your nipples before he takes it into his mouth and sucks on it.
Your hands shoot to the back of his head, your fingers tangling through the strands of his hair, and making sure he stays right where he is. He obliges, not moving until you pull him to your other breast, where he does the exact same thing.
Steve moves back and forth like this for a while until you can feel his fingers touching your clit which makes you pull on his hair harder than you had intended.
But it doesn’t seem to be nearly hard enough for Steve.
“Come on, baby. Pull,” he husks against your skin. You twist your fingers through the thick strands and do as he asks, but it’s still not good enough. “That’s all you got? Harder.”
Grabbing a handful of his hair, you pull so hard that his cheek knocks into one of your breasts. You can feel the corner of his mouth that’s pressed against your skin curl up into a smile, obviously pleased. It makes you repeat the motion, only this time you pull him to the side until his chin is resting on your sternum.
“You want to guide me?” His hands slip underneath your thighs before you even manage to nod, fingers digging into your flesh. “Do it. I dare you.”
“Think that I won’t?”
“Oh no, I know you will,” he grins.
“You want me to tell you what to do?”
“You could. I might even listen.” Despite what he says, it’s painstakingly clear that he will do whatever you tell him to do. “Just figured that it would be more fun if you’d just yank on my hair until my lips are on your pussy.”
Shifting your hand to the top of his head, you push him down. His tongue darts out of his mouth and the tip of it touches your heated skin, creating a path as he’s on his way down.
When you can feel his breath hit your mound, you stop, just to see what he would do. Steve doesn’t move, but simply hovers above you, completely still and waiting for you to guide him the last few inches.
The last push is rough, your impatience showing once more, and now he’s completely level with your cunt. Whenever he exhales through his nose, you can feel it hitting your center and since his breath is a lot cooler than the heat that’s burning between your thighs, he makes you squirm with every outward breath.
The wait is agonizing and since he wanted you to be his guide, you briefly wonder whether you should just grab a handful of his hair and push his face down, but he takes you completely by surprise by spitting on you instead.
The loud moan that bursts from your lips surprises you both. You can feel his saliva dripping down and mixing with your own fluids.
“You like that?” He breathes against your thigh when he hazards a glance to look up at your face.  “Feel good?”
“Yeah,” you moan, “real good. Don’t stop, Steve.”
“I won’t.” He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit with the flat of his tongue and your hips jerk upwards to chase his mouth when his tongue stops making contact with you. “I’ll give you what you want. Promise.”
“Counting on it.”
Steve practically dives in and devours you. His tongue hits all the right places, the tip of his nose making contact with your swollen clit whenever his mouth dips further down.
What he can do with his mouth is damn near sinful. He’s so good at eating you out that he has reduced you to nothing but sharp yelps and loud mewls in a matter of seconds.
He’s licking up every drop of your juices like a man starved, like you’re the never-ending dessert of a three course dinner, something that keeps regenerating and keeps making him hungry for more.
The pads of two of his fingers prod at your entrance, applying the slightest amount of pressure, just to make you aware of what he’s about to do, which provides a sharp contrast to the speed with which his tongue is batting at your clit.
“Please, Steve,” you cry out, begging already. “Need it so bad.”
There’s no reply, save from the slow slide of his fingers into your entrance. Your walls constrict them instantly, sucking them in deeper. Your back arches, pushing yourself away from the door, until his free hand presses down on your stomach to make sure you can’t move.
Since you can’t do much else, you grab at his hair and yank harder than before, until he moans against you and rams his fingers into you as far as they can go. He curls them up against your sweet spot until you’re gasping for air, jolts of electricity coursing from your cunt throughout your body. You can feel it all the way down to the tips of your curling toes.
“Oh, Steve,” you gasp when he covers your clit with his lips and sucks. Your thighs clench together, gripping his head between them. It makes him moan loudly and the added vibrations are what ultimately push you over the edge. “Ohgodohgodohhhh- Steve!”
Your climax hits you so suddenly that it’s almost as if Steve’s car just got hit by a truck and you’re seconds away from smashing straight through the windshield. You’re not, of course, but Steve makes you come so hard that it’s almost too easy to imagine.
Despite the fact that he’s just given you an earth-shattering climax, he’s still going, but you barely notice at first. You’re practically floating, soaring all the way up in seventh heaven, miles above the car, completely elsewhere as the aftershocks still pulsate through your body.
The muscles in your thighs are still shaking, Steve can feel them clench and unclench under his tight grip as he keeps them wide open. Your stomach keeps tightening as the waves of pleasure keep coming, your brain all fuzzy like you’ve just spent most of your evening getting high.
By the time that your head’s finally clear, in the process of shaking off the indescribable buzz, you become aware of what he’s doing, what he's still doing.
The sounds of pleasure quickly change to overstimulated whines instead. You try to push him away, but your muscles are made of jelly and he only proceeds to grip your thighs tighter, keeping them apart with so much force that you fear you’ll have neat little bruises where his fingers were digging into your flesh come morning.
The more noise you make, literally begging him to stop now because “you can’t” does nothing to stop him. If anything, it only makes him go at you harder, pushing his tongue as far into your quivering channel as he can, until you’re crying his name.
“Steve, Steve, Steveeeeee…”
Your voice breaks and you start keening, your fingers attempting to push him away and keep him right where he is at the same time. You swear that you can feel him smile against your abused pussy, but you’re so out of it that you can’t be entirely sure.
Steve manages to pull another climax out of you, tears it out of you kicking and screaming, dragging it out onto the surface after he had been digging deep for it, knowing full well that you had another one left in you.
This time, he lets you go and you crumple into the door, chest heaving and your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. You’re past speech, your throat dry as parchment because you couldn’t stop chanting his name as Steve made your insides burn hotter than a forest fire.
Through blurry vision, you can just about make out that Steve sits down next to you, but you can feel one of his hands on your ankle, fingers lightly wrapped around it and his thumb making the same circular motions as earlier while you come down from your high.
When you look up, the roof of the car appears to be swimming with stars. You can still see them behind your eyelids when you squeeze your eyes shut. Steve gave you a climax of such epic proportions that you don’t even have to tilt your head back to be able to look out the window to see the clear sky, which would no doubt be dotted with very real twinkling stars.
Steve had no idea that it was one of your favorite things to do on a cloudless night. He actually brought the night sky into the car, just like he said he would, and it made you smile to yourself.
“What are you smiling about?” Upon hearing his voice, you stop looking up and you blink a few times to clear your vision before you look at him. “Hm?”
“Nothing,” you reply, because admitting to what had happened seemed silly somehow.
“Didn’t look like nothing.” You can tell that he wants to press on so you sit up, press yourself against his side, lean your head against his shoulder and rest your hand on his hip. “Don’t want to talk, huh?”
“Don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admit.
“That good?”
“Steve, I think that the words ‘you rocked my world’ don’t even do it justice, even if that’s exactly what happened.”
“Cheesy,” he laughs and you can feel his lips on the crown of your head. “Good thing that I like cheesy.”
The two of you sit like this for a short while and you listen to his steady breathing. You desperately want to repay the favor, want to make Steve see the same stars as you did, and he seems to sense it.
“You don’t have to do anything,” he says in a low voice, “so quit breaking your pretty little head over it.”
“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”
“Okay.”
His answer is short and simple, making it perfectly clear that there are no expectations. He’d take you home if you asked him to, but you would much rather stay here. You don’t want to go anywhere else just yet.
You start out slow, by kissing his upper arm and then his shoulder. Moving to sit on your knees for better access, your lips move from his neck until you’re peppering kisses all along his jaw. Steve doesn’t move, he merely watches you and lets you do whatever you want.
Reaching for his jaw, you turn his head in your direction so you can kiss him full on the lips. He plays along perfectly, allowing you to give him languid kisses, with his eyes wide open so he can keep following your every move.
Your hand moves from his neck down over his chest, skimming over his skin, until your fingers reach the top of his jeans. You pop the button with ease, pull down the zip, and before he knows it, you’ve slipped your hand inside so you can palm his length over his boxer shorts.
“I was going to tell you to take as long as you need, but if you keep touching me like that-” His sentence ends abruptly and with a sharp hiss, all because you squeezed him a little. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry,” you giggle and proceed to do it once more. You can feel his cock growing more firm against your palm. “Couldn’t help it.”
“Oh really?” he says, knowing you were teasing. You laugh again and this time he manhandles you until you’re laying underneath him. You eagerly pull his jeans down until they’re pulled underneath his ass. Your eyes drift down to his boxers and you can literally see him straining away against the cotton fabric. “I think that this is going to be a long night, honey.”
“Oh no.” Reaching for him one more time, you find him hard as a rock. There’s only one final cloth barrier between you now and soon that too will be gone. “Whatever shall I do?”
“Little brat,” he groans right before you finally push his boxers down. You finally look down, curious, and your eyes nearly roll out of your skull when you catch sight of his cock. Your hand moves slowly, tentative, until your fingers touch his velvety shaft. “A very long night,” he promises with a soft moan.
“I sure hope so,” you whisper back. “I could stay out all night.”
“Tempting,” Steve replies. He holds himself up with his arm and it makes his long hair hang in your face like a curtain.
It makes a grin appear on your lips, making you think back to how this started, with you looking at his long hair across the room and trying to stop yourself from staring. You can’t stop looking at it now, at those silky strands and how they sway back and forth, tickling your face, clinging to your damp forehead, and you don’t know if you could ever stop staring.
You don’t want to stop staring. Not for tonight at least. And for however long he’ll allow you to keep looking at him after this night…
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starryhyuck · 2 months ago
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how long before we fall in love? (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE
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pairing: tsundere!doyoung x afab!reader
words: 5k+
summary: your friends don’t think you could possibly get the cold, mean-spirited kim doyoung to beg for you. it’s time to prove them wrong.
genre: smut, fluff
warnings: harddom!doyoung, daddy kink, throat fucking, degradation, car sex, choking, creampie
this fic is exclusive to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview
Kim Doyoung is two years older than you and about to graduate university.
He’s your perfect type — studious, outgoing, and incredibly caring of others. You almost tripped over your own two feet when you first laid eyes on his adorable bunny smile and button nose that you so desperately want to boop. He’s the walking fantasy of every girl’s ideal husband.
The only problem with your crush is that he hates you.
“Hi, Doyoung,” you say in a flirtatious tone, following him as he walks out of his business operations class. He ignores you, backpack slung over his shoulder as he picks up his pace. You chase after him, convincing yourself that he didn’t hear you the first time. “How was class? I heard Professor Park can be so strict with grading but since you’re top of the class, that must mean you’re his favorite! I mean, they don’t call you a gifted scholar for nothing-“
“I’m not in the mood.”
His voice is curt as he rounds the corner of the building, heading down the stairs. You’re quick to follow him, trying to keep up with his footsteps.
“That’s fine! Some days I’m not really in the mood either. Talking to people can be so exhausting, but I think it’s important to build good social skills.”
Taeyong waits for Doyoung at the bottom of the staircase, eyebrow raised when he sees you trailing not too far behind. Around campus, Taeyong was known as the happy social butterfly with his unique fashion style and colorful hair dos. Once he graduated last year, he was able to secure a job as a social media manager for a respected designer brand. He still lingers on campus from time to time to hang out with Doyoung and some of their other friends. He is very well aware of your pining after his best friend, and it brings him a certain amusement that nothing else can compare to.
Taeyong says your name joyfully. “Are you joining us for lunch today?”
You beam, excited to accept the invitation before Doyoung cuts you off.
“No, she’s not,” he replies with a pointed glare to Taeyong.
“Oh, I don’t mind! I’m done with classes for the rest of the day,” you say with a sparkle gleaming in your eye. The thought of having lunch with Kim Doyoung fulfilled some of your greatest fantasies.
Maybe you’d have remnants of food left over on your chin and he would wipe it away for you! Maybe the portions would be too big so you decide to share! Maybe he pulls out your chair for you when you sit down and holds your purse so no one steals it!
“I don’t want you to join,” Doyoung says with hard conviction.
Taeyong winces at the spiteful nature in his tone. You’re not deterred in the slightest, still blinking at him with a ditzy smile. You guess if he didn’t want to have lunch with you today, surely he would be open to it another time.
want to read the rest? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!
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translatemunson · 4 days ago
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file 001 — call sign: Hyde
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chapter one of death defying acts
masterlist | next chapter
cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie.
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It has been the longest 48 hours of your life.
You were supposed to touch down in San Diego on a Monday, but because of an airline error, your flight was postponed to late Tuesday, from an airport 2 hours away from Fallon, Nevada. When you arrived, Tuesday night, there was no time to unpack your stuff, just to find a clean uniform in the boxes, pack yourself a bag for your first day, check if your father got enough gas on your car, get your bed ready and sleep.
You were expected in the San Diego Naval Air Station North Island at the break of dawn. You would be lying if you said you weren’t excited or anxious to work in such a historical place like North Island. Your mother told you stories from when she worked there, decades ago, and your dad said the best teams were assembled there, amongst the Top Gun students. The pressure was on.
You joined the Navy in your home state, but you were transferred around during your fighter pilot training, and then again for Intelligence officer training. After completing the training, you transferred to Nevada to get a more in depth experience on Air missions with the Top Gun graduates, but that didn’t lead you to working with them during real missions.
Now being in San Diego, you knew it was your chance to impress the higher ups and finally earn some well deserved respect for your work. Intelligence Work was just as hard as flying those jets, but there was something always making your next step even harder inside those officers and mission control rooms.
The guy at the gates checked your ID. Once he cleared your entry, you drove to the Administration Office, ready to get your new credentials and get the job done. You parked your black Renegade, texted your mom — Hey, it’s gonna be a busy day. I’ll call you on Friday. —, grabbed your backpack and entered the place like you were on a mission.
It was like being on autopilot: waiting rooms, greetings, new credentials, a quick introduction to your new Intelligence team, a look at the following weeks schedule, a long meeting with Admiral Simpson — call sign Cyclone — discussing all the classified information you had to know about the team you would be working closely with. Names, call signs, previous missions and confirmed air kills. Familiar faces, new ones, a few last names you knew came from a line of ex military parents, just like you.
It was way past two when you were clear from all the first day activities. The Admiral ended the presentation just as his secretary entered the room to let him know he was needed in the meeting room.
“Don’t hesitate to stop by if you have questions, Officer. Your father spoke very highly of you and your work.” Oh, of course, he knew your father. Everybody was familiar with the teaching techniques from the one and only Warbird. “I believe Captain Mitchell is conducting flying exercises on Hangar One, if you’re interested in meeting the Dagger Squad.”
“Thank you, Admiral.” You collected all the files that were designated to you. “Will do.”
It was a good idea to just turn to the parking and go home, but you were curious to meet part of the team. Differently from other previous missions, all your analysis and suggestions would go through the captains and admirals before they made any decisions. But still, it was very important for you to understand what was at stake and which suggestions could be made right away.
You stopped by your car to throw your bag on the passenger seat and followed the path to the hangar. The waiting room was empty, but you saw a few silhouettes on the tarmac, going through the end of the day checklist. You turned the volume of the radio on, trying to gather some information about who was on the air. Besides a few directions here and there, they were useless to find out who those pilots were.
You could tell one of them was arrogant by their tone, maybe even too snarky and impatient. Based on their banter, it was clear they were doing basic maneuver training, and Maverick was the one chasing them. Some good old flight training tactics, you see. For a team that just got back from a dangerous mission — barely in one piece, but still — you were wondering why they kept those guys back for another one instead of taking advantage of Maverick’s skills and getting a new team there. Maybe even with the almost mission failure, there was potential amongst those aviators.
“You’re out, kid.” You heard Maverick on the radio, and more grumblings from the other guy.
You left the waiting room and finally walked to the tarmac. Arms crossed over your chest, you were looking forward to the following day, where you would gather details about their flight styles and their skills during missions. You had something around ten weeks to settle down and learn everything about the team before you’re deployed to a mission.
The F/A-18s landed graciously, and that constant nostalgia hit you again, leaving you wondering how would it feel to be back on a jet, what would feel to be on an official mission. Those days were far gone for you, the idea of flying just in case of traveling, and maybe a few minutes in one of your dad’s planes. But just for a moment enough to pump some adrenaline, landing on the tarmac just before your mind picked up the speed.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” You turned around and smiled at the sight of a familiar face.
“You wouldn’t be backseating if your sighting was bad, Robert.” You joked. Bob joined the Navy in the same period as you, and you trained together until the very last day you hopped on a jet. “Heard you managed the impossible.”
“Just doing my job.”
You hugged him, and finally those aviators started to pay attention to you.
“Who’s the pretty face, Bob?” A tall, tanned skin and blond aviator asked. “Your girlfriend?”
“Keep it in your pants, Bagman.” A woman came from behind one of the jets.
“Glad to see you’re still as sharp as that one training in Nevada, Phoenix.” You were happy to be back with Natasha Trace. She was one of the Navy aviators in one of the mission simulations you had back in Nevada, two years ago. It was one of the first times you stepped in as mission commander, and while other aviators weren’t happy with your orders, Phoenix was one of the few that happily followed them — and succeeded in the simulation.
“What? Did I miss any memo about a new pilot?” Bagman turned around.
“Not a pilot, Seresin.” Maverick finally showed up. “Officer, glad you could join us.”
“Captain, would you have a minute to discuss a few details about next week's mission simulation?” Time was precious for you. As soon as you could align the information you had in hand with the captain, the easier it would be to come up with plans for action.
“Definitely not a pilot.” Just like a shadow to his father, Bradley Bradshaw even carried the same mustache you saw in your dad’s pictures. You two had never crossed paths during your career in the Navy, but aviators would talk a lot over a few beers and drinks. And you were not looking forward to working with him.
“I’ll meet you in the office in 5,” he replied and went his way.
You turned around, now facing a bigger group of curious aviators. The Dagger Squadron. You knew their names and faces now, but that didn’t matter a lot.
“Ok, so who are you exactly?” Bagman, or Seresin, asked.
“People call me Hyde.” Even though your last name was embroidered in your uniform, people tended to ignore it. Your call sign from when you were flying jets carried over to the Intelligence rooms because of your reputation. “I’m part of the Navy Intelligence, and I’m gonna be training closely with you,” you looked around, “and be part of the next mission.”
You weren’t planning on being there for longer than one mission: you needed to prove yourself to your superiors in order to get assigned to missions overseas, with international teams. It was just another mission for you.
“We’ll be seeing each other soon. Have a nice evening, aviators.”
You turned around and walked back to the hall, but before you could be out of reach, you heard someone saying, “Who the hell does she think she is?”
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a/n: hello everyone! first fanfic for top gun: maverick, let me know what you guys think! i believe this will be more fast paced, focused on reader and her life as an intelligence officer (i made up most of the stuff for it since it's not easy to find info about it on the internet). huge shout out to the lovely @live-love-be-unique for indulging in this universe with me! i'm taking requests for this fic, so feel free to reach out via asks or dms! see ya soon.
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spencersssockss · 10 months ago
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Library
Summary: You meet Spencer at the library when going to check out The Fisher King…
Warnings: none!!!
Word count: 700
Ally: This is based loosely off the fisher king episode kinda but not really, sorry about the length!! I plan on having a second part to this one soon!!! Enjoy lovelies!
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You loved reading, any free time you had was spent reading, and it served as a distraction.
Your friend had been telling you about a book she had recently heard of, it was called The Fisher King, you did a tremendous amount of research on it only to find out the only possible way to read it would be to get it from your local library as it was no longer being sold due to its old age and rarity.
You decided to visit the library after work to pick it up, luckily someone had just returned it, and just as you were checking out a nerdy, tall, and lanky man walked towards the front desk next to you.
“Do you mind if I read that book in your hand before you leave?” It’ll only take like ten minutes,” he quickly said eyes bright as he bounced his foot nervously.
“Ten minutes?” you questioned cocking an eyebrow.
Spencer bit his cheek for a second before replying, “I have an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute, I know it sounds crazy but just trust me, it's really important,” he mumbled quickly.
“I-uh okay,” you stuttered handing him the book.
Taking the book in his hands, Spencer carefully flipped through it, fingers running over every page as he read, his eyes glancing over the words quickly, taking in every detail. After what seemed like only a few seconds, he closed the book and handed it back to you with a small smile.
“There's no way you read that all,” you blurted eyes widening.
“I promise, I did. My name's Spencer Reid by the way,” he said extending his hand for you to shake.
you shook it hesitantly still in disbelief.
With a smile, Spencer continued, “I'm a psychologist and criminal profiler for the FBI, always on the lookout for new books to read, this time it was actually for a case.”
You gasped in realization, you remembered before you graduated he had done a lecture at your college. “I've seen you before, you do lectures right?” you asked.
Spencer's cheeks reddened slightly, and he nodded. "Yeah, I've given several lectures on various topics, mostly about the human mind and behavior."
“You're one of the reasons I became a counselor,” you smiled.
Spencer smiled warmly, "That's amazing. I'm glad to have played a small part in your journey." He glanced around the library, trying to think of something else to say. "Would you like to get coffee or something sometime?”
“Absolutely, do you want my number?” you asked breaking into a smile.
"I'd love your number," Spencer replied, pulling out his phone. He tapped on the screen a few times before handing it over to you. "Here, add your number, sorry for not asking your name earlier, if you don't mind me asking now what is it?” he blushed slightly.
“it's y/n,” you smiled putting in your number and handing his phone back to him.
"Thank you, Y/N," Spencer said, pocketing his phone. He couldn't help but feel a bit flustered at the interaction. It was rare for him to meet someone who understood and appreciated his work so deeply. "Well, I should probably get back to my research now.”
“Yeah, sorry for keeping you so long,” you blushed holding the book against your chest.
"It's quite alright," Spencer reassured you with a gentle smile. "I hope we can catch up again soon, maybe over that coffee or even another book." He waved goodbye before disappearing into the stacks of the library.
You stood there for a moment still in disbelief at what had just happened, the librarian laughed before saying, “he's a cutie isn't he?”
You blushed deeply turning to face her to answer, “Just a little,” you mumbled making her laugh again.
“He works for the FBI actually,” she added laughing again as your eyes widened.
“Good to know,” you smiled waving at her as you left the library and headed home to read the book. Which would probably take YOU a lot longer than ten minutes.
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cakepoppresent · 10 days ago
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I'm All Ears
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Transcript Under the Cut plus more rambles ~
Lol I guess Daisuke is gonna have to ask Luna to spend the holidays with his family some other time
[Daisuke]: How does it feel? Its not too hot is it?
[Luna]: No it feels great
[Daisuke]: I’ve never done something like this before.
[Luna]: Really? It seems like you’re a natural at this. A little too good actually.
[Daisuke]: I can assure you this is a new experience for me. I didn’t realize this much product was needed.
[Luna]: Is it a lot of products? This is typical for my wash days. I didn’t even bring my products for my hot oil treatments
[Daisuke]: Shampoo, Conditioner, Leave in conditioner and something called hair milk. It seems like a lot
[Luna]: haha you sound like my brother. I have to force him to take care of his hair properly. But it’s not a lot I promise you and thank you for the help
[Daisuke]: Do you have any work lined up for Winterfest? I was hoping you could spend the holiday with me and my family
Luna's Thoughts
*How is Andre doing?* *What would Malcolm think?* *What the hell was her Dad doing*
[Daisuke]: Luna?
[Luna]: Oh My God! I’m so sorry Dai, You asked me something?
[Daisuke]: I did but it seems like you have a lot on your mind. Is everything okay?
[Luna]: Um...Its fine. I’m just worried about Malcolm, he’s just being a little annoying
[Daisuke]: Oh? Would you like to talk about it?
[Daisuke]: I’ve never seen you blank out like that. If it’s heavy on your chest I’m here to listen
[Luna]: I don’t want to bother you with my family drama. It’s just Malcolm being a big baby
[Luna]: I don’t want to be a bother
[Luna]: I know, I know but it’s still kind of embarrassing
[Daisuke]: Luna. You’re important to me I can’t just ignore you when its obvious you have something on your mind
[Daisuke]: Don’t overthink it. I’m all ears sweetheart
[Daisuke]: I can assure you nothing you tell can be worse than my own family
[Luna]: Really?
[Daisuke]: I promise you. I’ll fill you in on my own family drama. Come up on the couch and talk to me
[Luna]: I have an older brother, Andre, and he left after he graduated high school and just disappeared. Wouldn’t answer our messages or calls and our Dad refused to tell us anything about him. Malcolm took it really hard and feels like Andre didn’t care to stay...didn’t care about us anymore.
[Daisuke]: I’m sorry Luna, that must have been hard
[Luna]: Our dad wasn’t the greatest and Malcolm took a lot of comfort with Andre so when he left it was like that comfort disappeared and he had to deal with our dad on his own. I think he held out hope but when Andre didn’t show up for our graduation he completely wrote Andre off
[Luna]: I recently saw Andre working as a dishwasher at some restaurant and tried to get him to meet Malcolm and it blew up in my face. Malcolm doesn’t even want to have a conversation about him, but I'm worried about Andre. Malcolm feels like I’m going to abandon him, I obviously wouldn’t do that but now I feel I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.
[Daisuke]: This isn’t overwhelming sweetheart. It’s better to get this all off your chest. Gives you a chance to see things more clearly.
[Luna]: It’s just exhausting. I want them both in my life but Malcolm can be very sensitive and I don’t know how to navigate this. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you but I just wanted to get this off my chest
[Daisuke]: We can keep talking about this for the rest of the night. I’m here to listen to all your grievances
[Luna]: Thank you Dai. This means a lot
[Daisuke]: Come on sweetheart, let's head to the bedroom
[Luna]: Okay. I want to go shopping tomorrow. Come with me?
[Daisuke]: Of Course
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sassypantsjaxon · 1 year ago
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Fuck it. UA instructors as...things the staff from my college have done, I guess?
Because it's been three and a half years since I graduated and I miss that place every single day
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Principal Nezu
Principal Nezu has everybody's names, faces, and quirks memorized before the first day of school. This is never acknowledged.
(Recovery Girl also learns everybody pretty much right away, but she interacts with them a bit more directly than Nezu, so it doesn't seem quite as weird)
Somehow Nezu manages to both be so chill and yet have no chill.
Nezu once texted Mic to ask if he was available for a call about some program at school and when Mic didn't answer within 15 minutes because he was DRIVING Nezu just called him anyway and was like "is this a bad time? I can call you back :)" Like, no,no, We're both here now, let's have this conversation now. Go ahead
One time Nezu pulled the Big Three out of their classes and brought them into his office to sit them down like he was about to have a Big Serious Conversation, and then he just says "Do you think...it would be possible for you to visit the first year hero classes...and tell them about your experiences? :)" Mirio and Nejire are both going "yeah, sure", while thinking why did we have to get pulled out of class like this was something really important? Amajiki is hyperventilating.
Power loader
Power Loader is like some kind of cryptid.
He just shows up when things need to be fixed, fixes them, and then disappears again. He never says a word. Don't question it, just be grateful and let him stay in his hiding place
Random knowledge. Whenever the rest of the staff has some random question that no one else can answer. Ask Power Loader. He knows. He always know. Don't question that either, he's just one of those kind of people
Power loader and All Might are the only two teachers who were asked to come to UA instead of having to apply
13
Actually 13 falls somewhere inbetween applying and being asked to join the staff, because she kind of created her own job.
She just had a meeting with Nezu one day to be like "Your students need an Unforeseen Simulation Joint! Here's what that means and why you need it" And Nezu went "... :) You're hired!"
All Might
Toughest person anybody knows. Can not handle spicy food.
Everybody loves him. Anybody who doesn't isn't cut out for hero school. This is not bragging, it just happens to be true.
All Might once listed one of his credentials as BAMF. (Izuku absolutely lost it that day)
While discussing I Island with Izuku, All Might very casually stated "My ex husband lives there" as if that isn't an Absolute Bombshell to drop You can't just Say That and NOT ELABORATE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE AN EXHUSBAND!?!!???? (Izuku lost it even more that day)
Present Mic
Mic has a bad habit of talking a little too fast. Nobody's ever 100% sure what he said.
Also he swears. Like. A lot. Like, he would get in trouble as a student for swearing.
There is a drawer on Mic's desk that's labeled 'Present Mic's Top Secret Hiding Place' and anybody who notices it is just like ??? because it's clearly labeled and Not a Secret. But Mic is very scatter brained and will lose anything as soon as it leaves his eyesight. Having a specific place to put things help with that.
EraserMic
Married. But they don't really talk about it, and they don't act married in front of the students, so a lot of them don't realize it
It's actually surprising because they have pictures of them and their kids on their desks. All you have to do is go to the teacher's office. It's not a secret. It's right there.
There's a class for the second years on like, heroism and personal lives or something. Eraser and Mic get to teach part of that unit because they have experience being married heroes.
One year when Aizawa says that he's married to Mic one of the students asks him why
That same year, when Aizawa reveals that there is one teacher he will never be friends with (like, even more than all the other teachers), just because they have nothing in common other than working at UA, and the same student asks him if it's Mic
People assume Mic gets special treatment as Aizawa's husband. This is not true. If anything, he's more likely to get the short end of the stick and be asked to cover for Aizawa.
Eraser Head
Aizawa forgot that there was supposed to be a chaperone for the remedial licensing training and said he would probably be the one doing it. He was not. He sent Mic. Thus proving the previous statement true.
Bad at interpersonal relationships
Has a bad habit of mumbling. Students are never 100% sure what he said
At some point, the people around him start referring to doing anything overly rational as 'pulling an Aizawa'. Yeah. ...yeah...
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