#the next ones might be more coherent and organised

[corrodedcoughin]

What about garbage man eddie, living his life, headphones on the entirety of the trash pick up route. His crew act exasperated with him when he stops mid pick up to wail out some air guitar to whatever he's listening to at the time. But really? He brightens their day, always has some sort of entertainment to provide and they are thankful for him on the cold mornings when all they want to do is go back to their beds.

They are doing the usual route, are actually on the last house of the run, when Eddie just catches a movement in the corner of his eye. There's a guy running down his driveway, pulling his trash can behind him, waving frantically trying to get his attention.

Eddie lowers his headphones 'huh? what's up?', he stops in his tracks and he looks, properly looks and oh. oh. This guy coming towards him (is that kermit pyjamma bottoms? with a miss piggy shirt? and no shoes?) is pushing up his glasses and offering an apologetic smile.

'hi, hi sorry really couldn't miss the trash going out today, don't think i could fit any more in if i tried'

Eddie is still staring and stock still as the music is blaring out of his headphones. He's trying to organise his brain into compiling a coherent sentence, he really is, but there's this guy right in front of him with an obvious case of bed head, a blush across his cheeks and the most disarming smile Eddie has ever seen.

The man continues 'I guess I'll just leave this here? if that's okay? don't know how many times I've missed your guys run, think I'll have to set an alarm or something' he rubs the back of his neck and throws another one of those smile at Eddie while looking up under his eyelashes

Eddie continues to stare, blinks and just as the guy goes to turn Eddie sticks his hand out

'm eddie. y'know...just in case you need to shout again? And i've got my music going...it might help? i don't know man, forget i said an-'

and before Eddie can finish the man grabs Eddie's hand

'Steve. I'm Steve'.

Steve, his smile is warm and Eddie wants to know more. Which is exactly when the garbage truck driver starts blasting the horn at him

'come ON munson, ain't got time for you sweet talkin''

Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin, reluctantly pulls his hand back and salutes Steve before making sure he's emptied Steve's trash and hops onto the side of the truck, hanging on and waving at Steve as the driver pulls away.

His crew notice that Eddie takes his headphones off at the start of 'the Steve run' next week and if they conveniently only tackle Eddie about the missing headphones when he's in the middle of a conversation with Steve, well they like to think they are helping things along.

[hils79]

DMBJ Entry Level Fanwork Recs

Following on from this post a few people asked for some recs for fanworks they can read to get a better handle on the fandom and the characters if they don't know much about what DMBJ is about

This is by no means a definitive list, and I'd suggest checking the tags on any fanworks to make sure it's something you'd enjoy before you dive in.

I have my own personal preferences when it comes to favourite characters and ships and while I've tried to throw a bit of everything in here this is a fandom that loves its rarepairs and poly ships so I can't cover everything.

Please, by all means drop me an ask or a reply if you have any questions. I'm always willing to drag new people into the pits with me

A couple of things to start off with:

@foxofninetales has written a very useful list of possible entry points to the fandom

And if you want a very brief overview of the main players (this franchise has So Many characters it's totally okay to be confused) I wrote one over on Dreamwidth at the start of the year

Okay, to try and organise this in some sort of coherent way I'm going to break it up into canon fanworks and AU fanworks. Sometimes an AU is a better way to get to know the characters, or you might want to get a feel for the canonical settings. Reader's choice.

Then I'll break it down into ships in case Fox's guide has got you interested in something specific

Canon

Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Keepsakes Box by ShenWeiLightning

When Zhang Qiling loses his memories, the Zhang family attempt to whitewash Wu Xie from his world. Only the box he instructed they give him as a precaution was never checked for compartments and some of the pictures hidden inside, lead to certain conclusions...

The POV character has amnesia so you learn things along with him

Tabula Rasa by xantissa

Zhang Qiling forgets. Then he comes to some interesting conclusions regarding his relationship to the man named Wu Xie.

Another amnesia fic so same thing applies as above. I'm pretty sure this was the first fic I read in this fandom myself.

Visible to All But Me by Hils

“To the merging of the Wu and Zhang families,” his uncle toasts with a raise of his glass. "It's not what I'd hoped for in terms of securing the future of our family, as you know, but at least it's better than nothing."

Wu Xie blinks at him and raises his glass to take a drink while he tries to figure out what’s happening. There aren’t that many members of the Zhang family that his uncle has had dealings with. Xiaoge would have mentioned something if he’d entered into some sort of arrangement with his uncle. Perhaps his Ershu has made some sort of business deal with Zhang Rishan.

OR

Five times Wu Xie didn't know he was dating Zhang Qiling but everyone else did, and one time he figured it out (with some help)

Yes, it's probably poor netiquette to self-rec but this is hands down my most popular DMBJ fic and it's mostly just about Wu Xie being oblivious with no real ties to the canon plot

Liu Sang/Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Cat's Paw by Merinnan & Xantissa

While some very basic knowledge of The Lost Tomb Reboot is needed for this, you mostly find out what's happening through Liu Sang's perspective so it's not entirely necessary.

Wang Pangzi/Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

A Distracting Effort by elenothar

“Teensy tiny favour,” Hei Xiazi starts, with the kind of grin that says he knows he’s about to stir some shit and is looking forward to it. “I need someone to distract Zhao Ji and you” – he points at Wu Xie – “happen to be exactly his type.”

Wu Xie blinks. That’s… not what he’d been expecting.

Next to him Pangzi looks like he’s readying himself to bristle in protective outrage at any moment now and across the room Xiaoge’s relaxed sprawl has turned into something rather more threatening.

or

Hei Xiazi has opinions on Wu Xie's wardrobe, Wu Xie has opinions on interior decorating, Pangzi has opinions on Wu Xie's flirting and Xiaoge lurks protectively (and pointedly).

While this is not about tomb raiding it is exactly the sort of nonsense that happens in canon on a regular basis

Reunion to Rain Village by achray, hils, teyla and fangirlishness

A series of stories that are all standalone but are all set in and around our shared version of Yucun. The stories are not connected beyond some background themes and characters.

The only thing you really need to know is that the canon franchise ends with the three main characters retiring to a country village to run a restaurant and live in a house that Wu Xie designed and built for them. This series is set during that time but apart from that no canon knowledge is needed.

Hei Xiazi/Xie Yuchen

Why does it have to be you? by blackwatervial

It’s common knowledge that, if a delicate flower finds itself in a dire situation, a knight in shining armour will come to the rescue. Only that Xie Yuchen is no delicate flower, and his knight in shining armour is more of an overpriced mercenary.

This fic is only short but it perfectly covers everything you need to know about their relationship

Gen

Cascade by frith_in_thorns

Liu Sang didn't need looking after. Absolutely not. It had only been a small stabbing.

Unfortunately, Wu Xie overrode him.

Even more unfortunately, that was only the start of everyone's problems.

An excellent tomb raiding adventure with plenty of whump, misunderstandings and tomb nonsense

Take a Cup Of Kindness Yet by fox_of_nine_tales

There are several reasons Liu Sang doesn’t drink, and all of them are true.

I'm trying not to make this rec post entirely about Liu Sang because, as I mentioned in my DW post he's really only in one of the dramas/books. But he's very popular in my corner of the fandom so...

AU

Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Those who fear darkness have never seen what light can do by Merinnan & Xantissa

When Wu Xie was seven years old, he snuck away from his guardian during one of the digs that Sanshu took him to. Only things went wrong, the entrance collapsed, and it took a week to dig the child out from the near collapsed tomb.

They expected a body. They prayed that the child had somehow survived, but seven days without food or water for an adult would have been deadly, a child had no chances of survival at all.

They found Wu Xie deep in the tomb, sleeping on his little backpack. He was warm and healthy, confused at why the adults were yelling, looking like he’d just stepped into the tomb five minutes ago.

An alternate first meeting where Zhang Qiling is a supernatural creature.

A Swiftly Tilting Planet by slutspeare

Yincangui is Where Lost Things Return, and Wu Xie, captain of the Wushanju , has been trying to find it since his uncle went missing fifteen years ago. The only thing is that no one is quite sure that it actually exists, except for Liu Sang, who manages to finagle his way onto Wu Xie's ship and into their quest. Without any solid proof or idea of where they're going, it seems like Yincangui is always going to be a lost dream... unless the crew of the Wushanju can unravel the threads of the universe and lead themselves to what they've been searching for.

Absolutely stunningly written space AU where no real prior knowledge of canon is needed.

Liu Sang/Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling

Catch and Release by Merinnan & Xantissa

After weeks of being on the run from the people who'd been experimenting on him, Liu Sang was cold, hungry, and still hiding as a fox. When he came across a live capture trap in a large garden, baited with good, good food, he decided it was worth the risk. Then kept coming back again. And again.

Wu Xie just wanted to catch and socialise a feral cat into a pet. He hadn't planned on a fox deciding the trap he'd put out was a convenient and consistent source of food.

There's a lot of fics in this fandom where Liu Sang can turn into a fox. It's entirely down to this Liu Chang photoshoot so I figured I'd put one in here as a taster. Plenty more where that came from if you like it

Hei Xiazi/Xie Yuchen

Ad Hoc Services by fox_of_nine_tales

If assumptions make an ass out of you and me, well, why let a perfectly good ass go to waste?

In which Hei Xiazi is mistaken for a prostitute and his evening just gets better from there.

This might be an AU but it perfectly encapsulates how ridiculous these two idiots are

Vids

If you're more of a visual person these vids are a taster of what the fandom is all about (also linked in my DW post if you've already looked at that). It's a mixture of general fandom vibes and ship specific vids (and one solely about Pangzi because I love him)

This is just a very small sample to get you going. If you're not in the fandom and this has piqued your interest feel free to let me know and I can try and put together a more specific rec list for what you like

If you are in the fandom, feel free to reblog with any additions that you think should be on the list. This is only intended to be a sampler.

[mangoshorthand]

If it's too personal for you feel free to skip this ask!

As for Aidan and Five, yes, they are both different personalities and their appereances also differ from their personal tastes, but I am curious what exactly is it for you to feel attracted to Five and not Aidan as well? I know you mentioned your husband, but I wonder if it's also because you generally feel attracted to this kind of personalities/looks?

When I take a look around at the fandom, I only come across a few people who don't crush on both of them. As for me, I love Five as a fictional character, but I like Aidan as well, most likely his silliness. I wonder if most of his fans only crush on him for his role of Five and can't seperate both of them, and I wonder if (including me) there wouldn't have been a crush if he never played Five.

Lol it was nice if you to consider the possibility that I might have any shame/common human decency but thankfully you are mistaken so let's goooo!

I'll start by describing the feelings and then see if I can come to an analysis of why. Attraction is weird and it's a really hard thing to explain. I just know that when I see Aidan in character in season 3 I feel the feelings and when I see him out of character, I don't.

For illustrative purposes I'll hone in on one feature: the jawline. Looking at that jawline paired with Five's demeanor makes me swoon. I literally cannot look at it enough, I imagine doing so much to that morherfuckin jawline. But looking at Aidan's jawline is like looking at the woodwork of a well-designed chair. It's nice, but it's just a chair.

Let me do my favourite thing and try to organise the rest of my thoughts into a numbered list to create the illusion of coherence:

Fundamentally, I experience attraction first to somebody's personality and then develop physical attraction later. I am attracted to Five's personality, not Aidan's.

Five has personality traits and physical features in common with my husband, while Aidan only has physical features, which are lower on the attraction hierarchy for me.

I have a thing older men, and I read Five as an old man who just so happens to look young. I like the Sean Sullivan Five quite a lot too, (although he doesn't have the attraction double-whammy of looking like my husband)

Aidan seems quite sheltered and hasn't yet had the opportunity to grow beyond his parents' influence, (not judging him for this btw). Your 20s is a decade where two people can be in completely different life stages with not that many years in between them. I'm married and considering starting a family in the next couple of years so I feel like I recognise a peer more in Five than in Aidan.

In general, I find I am attracted to people whose personalites complement or oppose mine. It's a little like Aristophanes' idea of love in that I look for my 'other half'. I'm a silly, mathematically illiterate creative, so I am attracted to men whose brains are wired the other way around. Aidan seems like he has more in common with my way of thinking, which is cool but not attractive to me.

I obviously can't speculate on why or how anyone else finds Five and/or Aidan attractive, all I can do hope you can extract some sort of insight from my personal feelings.

[thetruearchmagos]

Hi

So its 6 am and I am sleepless, so I'ma tell you a bit aboout Mesoamerica and the Maya, and it may or may not be coherent.

So, one of the major things people don't understand is that unlike the Aztecs, the Maya were not, in fact, a single polity, but rather a continuous range of culturally similar and interrelated cities from the (current) south of Mexico to the north-west area of Honduras. Each city had its own rulers, its own patron gods, its own symbols, and its own history. These cities and rulers waged war and alliances against each other, conquered and were conquered, and gained or lost influence in the area over a time span of over 1000 years.

For example, take Copan. Copan was first settled and ruled by non-Maya people, and a small kingdom established. Around 400 A.D, the original inhabitants were invaded and their ruler overthrown by K'inich Yax K'uk' Mo', a lord from the Maya city-state of Tikal to the north. K'inich Yax K'uk' Mo' was supported by the Tikal ruler, Siyaj Chan K'awill II, and married a royal woman of the local ruling family to cement his legitimacy. As a result, Tikal and Copan were allies, and K'inich Yax K'uk' Mo' was further able to exert control (and tribute)over another nearby city-state, Quiriguá.

However, centuries later in the 8th century A.D. the king of Quiriguá, K'ak' Tiliw Chan Yopaat, rebelled against Copan and allied with Calakmul, another powerful city-state. During the brief war that followed, the 13th king of Copan, Uaxaclajuun Ub'aah K'awiil, was captured and beheaded in Quiriguá. Due to Calakmul's powerful military might, Quiriguá was not attacked in response, and Copan decreased in influence, eventually falling entirely during the reign of its 17th king.

So... This is late...

BUT!

Oookay, so, two roughly connected thoughts.

First of all, yes. One thing I absolutely hate in 'popular' history is how prevalent the idea of monolithic and singular 'civilisations' is, or at least how it feels like that sometimes. The term civilisation itself is something I've always had trouble wrapping my head around, but hearing from the horsekeeper's mouth about the actual, deeply complex and ever shifting nature of this particular people, I think, has added to my understanding of that particular concept. Having recently read a bunch of stuff about ancient Greece in the era of the Peloponessian War (and starting a book on the rise of Macedonia), I kinda felt that it was a shame that it's easier for people to understand the diversity and sheer complexity of a Western 'civilisation' as compared to a foreign, New World one.

This neatly leads me to my next thought: god, the historical 4X genre is just fucked, at least in this particular subject. It's almost certainly an overreaction, but it feels like the very concept of monolithic and unitary civilisations acting in concert gets propagated through stuff like this, which erases the very real and fascinating nuance that defines political and social organisations in real history.

So.... Thanks for taking the time to write this up! It was utterly fascinating and very informative, and I hope whoever sees this takes more note of your work than my limited, tired commentary.

[katieqnmr]

Keeper? I hardly know her…

Apologies. I can’t help but echo the stupid joke that ping-ponged around the set of Keeper…Dumb enough to laugh at every time I heard it. (Wonder whether the folks working on Popper had the same issue…)

I think being a 1st AD on set was a very different viewpoint from any other I’ve had on any set. (Okay I techhhnicallly 1st AD’d Nat’s ‘about that one time’ documentary but I really had no clue what I was doing… I think I booked some kit…(?) (sorry guys) ….

So this was a BIG STEP UP. And a key difference…Ben actually asked me to 1st AD Keeper, I didn’t even think I would be a part of his film!

But Ben ended up explaining his vision for what a good 1st A.D. was…and I kind of felt like I could manage what he was describing. Also, lots of what he wanted was a good attitude, patience and clarity. Things I felt I could manage okay. But…. I could feel the ADHD demon stirring within me at the idea of… organisation(!!!) now… it’s not that I can’t be organised… but I know that I am easily distractable. I mean I actually struggle keeping these blog posts coherent a lot of the time, always wanting to start new thoughts in between old ones, which means I lack a … level of detail. Which I think is quite important as a 1st AD. However Ben assured me I would be fine. And I think generally I was!

^ We had meetings where I arranged the strip board for scheduling (which would inevitably change as days went by and we had to re-assess some things 😃😃)

I also was in charge of call sheets, which I’m afraid to say went out pretty late each night… but in my defense I got home at 11-12 each night..! But I should have had them all ready to go so I could send them out from my phone… lessons learned. The thing is, we changed so many timings each day that any pre-prepared call sheets would become rather irrelevant so I’m not sure what the fix is there.

Also the main difficulty of this shoot: we had for almost all days (pitch days) we had from 19:00-21:30(MAX) to shoot all our footage for the day, as the venue needed us OUT by 22:00, and we had to shoot at black for the shots to all match (and for Ben’s vision). This was a huge challenge for everyone, and Alex and I discussed at one point any alternatives- more shoot days possibly? But with good old British Summer Time approaching and the clocks going forward (yayy!!!) there was bad news… the darkness that we so needed would be another hour gone. Realistically I knew we could get everything shot in the days we had allocated, and we did. But I do feel bad that I had to really be on everyone as though they weren’t being fast enough, when it was actually just the parameters of the shoot.

What did I do right?

I think I was generally keeping to task. If I hadn’t been there, they would have overrun by miles… there were a few times Ben and Alex gave me this face when I told them the time…

I think it just goes so fast! Especially when it’s not your job to keep track of it. So it’s good that I was there, I made a material difference whooooo!! 🥳🥳

I think I also was pretty encouraging to everyone, and was able to call all decisions that needed to be. There was one time on day 3 where we had shifted some times around and basically Ben was hoping we would get way more shots on that day. I had been observing the last few days, felt pretty well acquainted with the patterns of shooting and thought ‘hang on, that’s never going to happen.’ But I didn’t crush Ben’s dreams and we talked about how it might work. I promised we could try his plan, because if it didn’t work out we could shoot what we hadn’t in the next 2 days, and there was plenty of time for them. As the day went on I was becoming increasingly stressed, and I had to pull Ben aside at dinner and tell him that we could not get those shots done. He at first was determined we could, but eventually I think he realised that it wasn’t possible. He very gracefully promised to trust my judgement in the future, and apologised which was really kind. I know it’s not easy at all to cut things from the schedule especially when you’re in a creative mindset. I know in Saint Catherine’s I was always asking for a a bit more time where I could.

Other good things:

I was able to reunite with Monica the 2nd AD!!!^

And a tonne of people on Saint Catherine’s were also on Keeper, so it felt very homely when I was missing the set of Saint Cats.

(Sorry this photo just makes me laugh)^^

Some things I could have done better:

I was pretty distracted (mainly Monica’s chats were pretty enthralling, and sometimes I forgot where I was(!!) but luckily we had so much prep time (arriving on set at 3pm). Constantly hounding them to be ready felt really patronising and uncessesary, so I would check in with them to see their ETA’s but there really wasn’t much I could do besides that. I would remind them of when would be good to start, but basically we were constantly chasing time when 7pm rolled around. It was quite frustrating, I think I wonder what it would be like to AD on a set with less of a shooting time constraint!

I also was not hugely confident, I think I don’t command an air of respect hahaa but the crew and supporting actors/cast were all very good at listening. I also wasn’t hugely keen on running the main meetings because it felt like all the words disappeared from my head as soon as people were looking at me. But I did manage them okay……..

Also the weather did not play nice on the 3rd day particularly (wow that day was hard) - it was raining hard and it was the sort of cold that stopped your fingers from moving. I wanted to make sure all cast and crew were safe and dry (especially those cast/SA’s who were wearing shorts!!) so this meant we lost a lot of time having to usher them in and out constantly for each different shot.

I think overall it was a really fun experience, and I’m really glad Ben trusted me. Everyone was so lovely to work with, and the film was looking (and sounding) beautiful! Even through freezing rain and darkness, everyone’s spirits were up.

Thank you Keeper,

From Katie xxx

[nerdnag]

How much do you plot out your stories before you write them?

More than I used to!

Up until maybe 2019 I almost never plotted out stories beforehand. Therefore I have a LOT of started docs saved with little random ideas: some of which never became more than a page, some of which went haywire after a while and never recovered. And there are some entire "books" or fics that were completely improvised as I wrote them. That used to be how I wrote when I wrote for my own enjoyment only.

I tried my hand on an overarching structure for an original work back in 2017/18, but that was probably my real first planning for any story I'd ever written.

And then I think it was @alienducky who really got me into plotting and got me stuck on it for real. We worked on a fic together, and it would have been practically impossible to do that without some kind of joint plan. I remember she started a table at the top of the doc where she listed all the scenes, and I was like yeah, that's a good idea, and it was. After that I started plotting out my own fics in a similar manner too, and now I never want to go back to how I did it before. The stories just turn out so much better when I know where I'm going from the beginning. But I plot in a way that still lets me be creative with the plot along the way.

So this is how I do it nowadays:

Scribble any little initial idea I have - sometimes in a single sentence, sometimes in a paragraph, sometimes in random loose sentences here and there that only make sense to me.

Place the bits I know I want into some kind of organised scene structure - if I don't already know which order things will happen in, I'll get a first sketch on that now. I usually structure this into actual chapter titles (placeholder titles that just give me an idea of what the scene is about) so that step 5 becomes a bit easier later.

Loosely figure out what kind of ending I want - just so I have something to aim for. Usually I have two large threads going and then a number of subthreads; the main threads (like a fantasy conflict or a romantic struggle) have to be clearly solved at the end imo, but some of the subthreads can be more loosely handled. At this point in the process though it's all just a rough sketch.

Slowly fit more pieces I want into the puzzle - any scenes that are necessary to bring me to the end somehow, or even scenes that bring me joy to think about, as long as they don't stray too far from the main threads. I also make sure to always add in early on which pov I think I want for every scene.

When I have a beginning, an end, and a number of scenes that seem to coherently bring me from one to the other, I start fleshing out parts. This usually means that I start writing bits and pieces here and there. Often I wrote the first handful of chapter first before I go on to the rest of the story, so I have a basic idea for myself of what the characters want and how they should be acting. But after the first few chapters, I usually jump from scene to scene depending on what mood I am in and what feels more joyful at any point in time. So I might write half a scene in chapter 7 one day to then write an entire chapter 22 the next day, only to then jot down a few paragraphs into chapter 16 after that. (This is my adhd working, I let it because it's worked out pretty well for me so far.)

Along the way I may come up with new ideas and adjust things, I flesh out scenes that were very barebone in the beginning, I solve and change things that turned out not to work, and when I reach the latter chapters that I wrote early on (for example ch 22, if I wrote that straight after ch 7), I'll usually have changed enough things that I need to rewrite large parts of that chapter. That is fine by me, it's all part of the process.

I should also add that if I've started posting it on for example Ao3 along the way, I sometimes - very rarely, but it happens - adjust my plans depending on what people comment. This is usually only if someone comments something that is so genius or otherwise so perfectly natural for the story that I just cannot let it go by without doing something with it, and only if it fits into the plot somehow. One example of this is when I noticed that several people were suspecting a particular character of having hidden motives. Up until that point I hadn't planned on doing much at all with that character, but when I realized that what I'd already written was leading very naturally to their conclusion, I decided to give that character more space from there on out and even played into the whole hidden agenda idea (but with a twist). That kind of thing can be really fun to do, but I don't do it if I don't think it will work for the plot I already have.

There have also been occasions where conversations with @alienducky have led me to change things in similar ways. One example of this is when I sent her a first overarching plot of my entire then upcoming fic series back in... 2020 I think? And she's great with noticing details, so she asked me how the characters would be able to send letters to each other if they didn't know where the other person was. I told her there was a magically enhanced wolf in there that would be used to bring letters back and forth. She was so into the idea of this wolf, and asked what would happen to it later in the story, that I simply had to make it part of the main cast, and in the end it even played a very important part in a reveal down the line. XD Throwaway details that grow larger like that are also very fun.

Omg I actually found our old convo from back then, I can't not add it in here.

TLDR; I plot out an overarching story with beginning, end and bits and pieces in-between, then adjust as I go.

[englishwiseae]

PTE Exam: How to Get a Better Essay Writing Score

Are you a little behind in your writing skills? You’re not alone. This section poses a significant challenge for many test-takers. But fear not! In this blog post, we deconstruct the art of essay writing and study various ways to improve your skills and, thus, your overall score in the PTE exam in Dubai. Whether you aim to enhance your vocabulary, structure your arguments more coherently, or boost your confidence, this guide will meet your needs.

Overview of the Writing Section

As you might already know, your PTE exam in Dubai has four primary areas—speaking, writing, reading, and listening. In the PTE writing section, you will encounter two tasks: Summarise Spoken Text and Essay Writing. Here’s what you need to know about each task.

Summarise Spoken Text:

In this task, you will receive a paragraph to summarise in your own words. Your summary should be concise, containing over 75 words, and capture the main points of the given paragraph. You will have 10 minutes to read, summarise, and proofread your response.

Essay Writing:

The second task involves writing an essay between 200 and 300 words. You will receive a prompt, and you must construct an essay addressing the topic within 20 minutes. Your essay will be assessed based on varied criteria:

Content

Formal requirements

Development

Grammar

Linguistic range

Vocabulary

Spelling

Keeping these aspects in mind while writing is crucial for a higher score.

Tips to Improve Your Essay Writing Skills

Crafting a stellar essay in your PTE exam in Dubai demands a strategic approach. More importantly, improving writing skills does not happen overnight. One needs to practise consistently to see the required level of improvement.

Here are some tips to elevate your writing prowess and ace this crucial section:

1. Find the Core Concept

Students often begin writing their essays with blank minds. It not only creates confusion but also takes more time. To avoid this issue in your PTE exam in Dubai, make sure to pinpoint the essay’s essence first. Whether it's a controversial issue, current event, or any other subject matter, identify the central theme and weave it seamlessly throughout your essay.

In simpler terms, begin by jotting down key points as you read the prompt, guiding your essay's direction and coherence. Such a laser-focused approach to the topic ensures your arguments revolve around its core.

2. Structure Your Essay

After jotting down the essential points of the prompt, your next step is creating a framework, as the structure is the backbone of any well-crafted essay. Split your essay into 3 distinct sections:

Introduction

Body paragraphs presenting your arguments,

A conclusive summary.

Even during the note-taking phase, adhere to this structure to maintain clarity and organisation. A clear structure not only streamlines your thoughts but also helps you stay within the prescribed word limit.

3. Incorporate Examples and Facts

Now, you begin to write content for the defined framework. But how do you make it work for you? The best way to inject life into your essay is by including suitable examples, convincing facts, or intriguing anecdotes. These elements not only enrich your content but also bolster its credibility and engagement.

So, use your knowledge to its fullest, integrating dates, statistics, or notable personalities to substantiate your arguments effectively.

4. Harness the Power of Quotes and Idioms

Quotes and idioms infuse your essay with personality and flair, making it memorable for the reader. You can learn some common idioms and quotes on a daily basis, which can help tremendously in your PTE exam in Dubai.

However, you need to be careful with your usage:

Ensure they align with the tone and formality of academic writing.

Prioritise grammatical accuracy.

Employ popular quotes judiciously to add depth and direction to your arguments.

By doing this, you can enhance the overall impact of your essay.

5. Opt for Clear and Concise Vocabulary:

Lastly, pay attention to your word choice. Complex vocabulary doesn't always translate to a higher score. Instead, focus on using a language that is easy to comprehend. Keep a balance between simplicity and sophistication, ensuring your writing style stays polished and coherent.

For better clarity and seamless expression, you can also integrate appropriate introductory phrases and conjunctions, such as "in my opinion," "furthermore," and "given the facts".

Final Word:

Remember, mastering essay writing in the PTE exam is a journey, not a destination. So, tailor your approach to suit your unique strengths and weaknesses, and don't hesitate to experiment with different strategies until you find what works best for you.

If you truly want to take your essay-writing skills to the next level, consider joining a coaching program. English Wise is one of the best we can recommend for both PTE and online IELTS coaching. Check it out if you need their help for your upcoming PTE Exam in Dubai.

[languageyeti1985]

The Definitive Guide to Captivating Writing Structures and Attention-Grabbing Hooks: Organise Your Writing, Win Your Readers Over...

We're going to talk about something today that can make you nervous and anxious. You did indeed guess correctly. Then, we'll talk about how crucial planning is for writing.

Even though it may seem time-consuming, planning your writing is crucial if you want to be successful. If you have a good plan, your writing may end up being disorganised, which will make it simpler for your readers to comprehend your point of view. Let's look at why planning your writing is so important now.

Planning your writing will, first and foremost, make the entire writing process more straightforward. When you begin writing, organise your thoughts and ideas so that you know what you want to say and how you want to say it will help you avoid writer's block and ultimately save you time.

A well-structured text is also simpler to comprehend. Making a plan for your writing and developing a clear framework will help your readers follow your ideas and arguments more efficiently, which will make your writing more fascinating and engaging.

Let's now discuss ways to spark your readers' interest. One of the best strategies is to use a hook at the beginning of your piece. A hook is a word or phrase that draws the reader in and encourages them to keep reading. It might be a startling statistic, a compelling query, or a humorous anecdote.

Using colourful and descriptive language is another technique to keep your audience interested. Finally, using sensory language, you may immerse your readers in the scenario you're describing and give them a sense of involvement in the narrative.

Finally, don't forget to revise and proofread your writing. Your writing will only be meaningful if it is free of faults and mistakes, regardless of how well you prepare and structure it. Hence, spend some time reading through your writing, checking for spelling and grammar mistakes, and making sure your ideas make sense.

In conclusion, structuring your writing is crucial for writing success. It will facilitate writing, make it more coherent and intelligible, and assist you in capturing readers' interest. So take time to arrange your writing the next time you sit down to write, and you'll be surprised at the difference it makes!

[sinner-as-saint]

quickie with mob!bucky:

themes: smut, mob!bucky, housekeeper!reader

“Bucky!” You squealed as he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into the dark pantry. 

The same pantry you always kept organised and clean. Bucky smirked as he backed you into one of the shelves, pinning your arms above your head as he leaned in closer to your mouth. “Hmm,” He purred, brushing his lips against yours, “I’ve been gone for almost a week, babygirl. Did you miss me?” 

You kept yourself from whining like a desperate, wanton woman as he kissed down your neck. “Bucky…” You gasped, “Someone might see us. Your father’s home today and he-,”

He cut you off, pulling his lips away from your neck for a brief moment to look you deep in the eyes, “He’s busy on a phone call. I sent all the guards downstairs so I have you at least for the next twenty minutes and I’ve missed you the whole time I’ve been gone, baby, so do us both a favour and open your legs for me.” 

You let out a soft moan as one of his hands slid beneath the hem of your uniform, moving upwards to your inner thighs. You gasped when he quickly pulled your underwear to the side and teased your clit with his eager fingers. 

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky chuckled as he felt just how wet you were for him, “You missed me, didn’t you baby?” He slowly slid one of his fingers into you, speeding up just a little as he finger-fucked you. “No one else touched this tight little cunt while I was gone, right?” 

You whined in pleasure, barely hearing his questions as you focused on the sweet pressure in between your legs. 

Bucky growled, “Answer me, baby. Look at me,” He waited until you looked up at him and he asked again, “Nobody touched this cunt, right? You made sure of that, didn’t you?” His questions were followed by him thrusting his fingers deep into your wet hole, stroking your walls and making it impossible for you to form coherent sentences. 

“No…” You whined, “No one touched me. Nobody ever does, just you.” You answered, moaning and gasping for air as he brought you right on the edge just with his fingers. “Please, can I come?” You pleaded, “Please, Bucky I’m-,” 

Bucky cut you off by pulling his fingers out of you abruptly. You stared at him with your lips parted in shock. He smirked as he got down on his knees, pulling the skirt of your dress up until he could see your glistening cunt through your flimsy underwear. 

“You’re only allowed to come on my tongue,” He said with that deep voice of his which made you shiver. “Now come on, pull your little panties to the side and let me taste you.” He ordered. 

You obeyed. Pulling your dress up and exposing yourself to him. You pulled your underwear to the side as much as it’ll go, revealing your wet folds to his starving eyes. 

“I’ve missed it so much,” Bucky whispered, more so to himself as he took his time, kissing down your inner thighs as he parted your legs further and settled in between them, kneeling in front of you. 

You moaned out loud when you felt his warm, wet tongue lick down your folds. He hummed loudly as he tasted you. So loud that your eyes widened for a brief moment, “Bucky, we have to be quiet.” You warned him. 

But he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t, not when he had his face buried into your warm wetness. His tongue slipping past your folds and teasing your entrance while occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly. 

Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. “Bucky…” You whined as quietly as you could. “Your tongue feels so good.” You moaned. Fueled by your praise, he licked and sucked on your clit, eating you out relentlessly as you whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. 

He growled when your hips instinctively rocked against his mouth. He pulled away for a second, “Yeah? You wanna ride my face and come for me, baby?” 

You whined as his words caused goosebumps to erupt all over your body. “Yes, please…” You pleaded again, begging him to let you come. 

Bucky’s blue eyes were wild and filled with lust, staring up at you from in between your legs. The intensity of his gaze made you tremble. He looked powerful even with his face buried in between your legs. 

“You’re mine. Only mine, and you’re gonna come on my fucking tongue like my good girl, yeah?” he whispered then began thrusting his tongue deeper into you. 

You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “Oh… Bucky, please,” You gasped. With your back against the shelf, you gripped his hair even tighter and moved your hips against his mouth and tongue; moaning and gasping as you did. 

You felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. And judging by how loud and frequent your moans were, he could tell as well. He whispered against your skin before biting down on your inner thigh as you whined above him, “Come for me, baby. Let me taste you. Let me taste how good you are when you come for me.” 

You could only moan and whimper as your orgasm washed over you. Bucky kept licking deeper into you even as your back arched off the shelf. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore; and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering as you drenched his face. 

Your eyes shut in pure bliss and by the time you opened them, Bucky was standing up in front of you again. You were still trying to calm your heart and control your breathing when Bucky leaned in to kiss you on the lips, making you taste yourself on his mouth briefly. You whined into the kiss again. 

Bucky smirked as he pulled away and righted your uniform as best as he could. “Thank you for that, baby. I’ll see you tonight.” 

He began walking out of the pantry when you called out, “Tonight?” 

He looked over his shoulder and said, “I need more, okay? This wasn’t enough, baby. So I’ll see you tonight.” He left with a wink.

[mycurrent-hyperfixation]

Take A Chance On Me - Chapter Seven (Eddie Munson x Reader Series)

Series Summary: Corroded Coffin is lacking only one thing that could help them win the upcoming Battle of the Bands; original songs. So when a new band comes to town with a lead singer that looks all too familiar and a repertoire of original songs up their sleeves, Dustin concocts a plan that will get you to spill all of your songwriting secrets to Eddie. It’s just a few dates, right?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Word Count: 8.3K

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, 10 Things I Hate About You AU

A/N: I honestly think this chapter might be my favourite one so far so I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. The ridiculous word length has returned, but there really was just no way I could cut this chapter in two. I'm the kind of reader who loves a short chapter in a book, but I'm afraid I will become an author who has ridiculously lengthed chapters 😫. Also, I'm expecting all the chapters from here on out to be on the longer side just so you all know. I'm trying real hard to fit this fic in the 10 chapters I limited myself to, but we shall see if that goal eventuates or not. Also, I haven't given a name to readers band cause I was too lazy to think of a good one and now I'm severely regretting that decision cause I'm finding it harder and harder to dodge around it. As always, you guys are amazing and I love each and every one of you!!!

The shift had been busy, so uncharacteristically busy that you were struggling to upkeep a smiling disposition with the variety of customers that were seemingly becoming ruder as the day went on. The store was a mess, most of the records strewn haphazardly across the racks so what was usually organised into clear genre categories was now intermingled amongst each other.

When the final customer had been served and the line in front of the counter finally cleared, you let out a tired and weary sigh, allowing yourself a moment to revel in the silence that surrounded you. Bringing your hands up to your face, you lazily rubbed at your eyes, trying to ease their stinging. With a slight groan you pushed yourself away from the counter and begun the laborious task of cleaning up.

When the bell above the door chimed just as you had been about to make your way over to lock it, you couldn’t quite help the small groan of annoyance that left your lips. Composing yourself, you forced a smile onto your features and turned around to greet the customer.

“Hello. How can I help you tod-”

Your smile became genuine at the sight of Eddie Munson standing by the door.

“Oh, I’m not here to buy anything,” Eddie said. “I’ve actually come here to see one of the workers. Maybe you know her. She’s super pretty but is kind of mean to me.”

“Hmmm,” you pretended to think. “No, sorry, I don’t know anyone by that description.”

“Well that’s a shame,” Eddie responded, making his way slowly over to you. His eyes were captivating as they stared directly into yours, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve come to pick her up for a date.”

Your smile faltered slightly.

“Eddie, I didn’t bring anything to change in to and it was just so busy today so I’m sure I look like a mess and I-”

Eddie stepped closer to you.

“You look beautiful.”

But the collected demeanour that Eddie was still somehow managing to upkeep was a lie. Because he had thought that his spontaneity would be charming. He had thought that you would laugh at the fact that he had sprung the date upon you without any forewarning; after all, your response to his proposition had been less than straightforward itself. So as he looked upon you with your wearied expression, your posture slightly drooping and the bags under your eyes more prominent than usual, he wanted nothing more than to kick himself the utter stupidity of his idea.

But now he was so very close to you, his lips practically inches from yours so that his breaths became ragged and his heart began to race as all coherent thoughts seemed to leave him all at once. In that moment he so wanted to lean just that extra bit forwards, to close the distance that still sat between you and capture your lips within his own. But Eddie wanted to do things properly—to do things perfectly—for you, even though he had likely already screwed up a date that was yet to begin. So he forced himself to pull away, noticing the vibrant blush that coated your features as he did so and smiling softly to himself at the sight of it.

“Fine,” you relented. “But next time I want proper warning before we go anywhere.”

Eddie let out a sigh.

Next time.

“I’ve just got to finish packing up,” you continued. “Just give me one sec.”

Eddie waited for you by the door, casually leaning up against the wall as he watched you. And even though your hair was slightly messy and even though the weariness was clear within your eyes and even though you were still dressed in your work clothes—a simple black t-shirt that was slightly too big for you paired with black jeans—Eddie still found himself practically incapable of looking away from you.

“Okay, we’re good to go,” you called from the counter, your bag clutched within your hands as you began to flick the light switches off.

Eddie held the door open for you as you exited, waiting as you locked the door before making your way into the carpark. It was empty save for your own vehicle and Eddie’s van, the sight of both of them sitting side by side making your brows furrow slightly.

“Oh, should I leave my car here? Or should I just meet you...wherever it is we’re going.”

“No, I’ll drive,” Eddie hastily responded, chastising himself for not having thought of the issue beforehand. He should just call it all off, he thought, pretend like he was just joking about the date so that he could start afresh on another day. “I can drop you back home as well or...back here or wherever you want.”

You smiled at Eddie’s flustered state. “Okay.”

When you rounded the side of Eddie’s van you startled slightly as Eddie rushed forwards, grabbing the handle of the door before you had a chance to and swiftly opening it. The action was oddly touching as he gestured for you to hop inside.

“So where are we going?” you asked after you and Eddie were both situated inside the van.

“Well I thought we could maybe...get some milkshakes. And I rented a few movies so we could go back to mine and watch one if you’d like.” Eddie hadn’t realised how suggestive the words sounded until they fell from his mouth and lingered awkwardly in the air between you. “O-or we could just stick with the milkshakes. Or none of it if you don’t want.”

It sounded underwhelming now that Eddie said it out loud and he wished that he could have taken you to a fancy restaurant or a fancy bar or to anywhere that was slightly more highbrow than an old diner at the edge of town. He looked away from you, slightly embarrassed and half expecting you to simply get right back out of the car and leave. He wouldn’t blame you if you did.

“Ugh, you read my mind!” 

Eddie’s head whipped back up to look at you, wholeheartedly surprised to find you smiling widely.

“I was craving a milkshake all shift.”

A wide smile broke out onto Eddie’s face, his confidence somewhat renewed as he turned the key in the ignition and backed out of the carpark. The drive was quiet, a mixtape that Eddie had made playing softly through the speakers. And although it was quiet, it was nice to simply revel in each other’s company, the windows rolled down so that Eddie found himself sneaking glances towards you as the wind drifted through your hair.

The diner was deserted when you arrived, and Eddie couldn’t quite tell whether that fact made him nervous or relieved. The waitress was different to the one that had greeted you so warmly the other day, but she smiled widely and offered you a small wave nonetheless as she looked up to the chime of the bell above the door.

Eddie followed behind you as you took a seat within the same booth the two of you had sat at last time. The leather of the seat squeaked beneath him as he shuffled in opposite you, a wide smile spread across your lips as you eagerly looked down at the menu. Eddie couldn’t quite help himself from admiring you as you did so; the way your hair fell slightly in front of your face, the way you were so unperturbed by the fact that he had taken you to a diner for your first date.

When he heard the faint rumble of your stomach, he couldn’t stop the snicker that left his lips in time, your cheeks instantly reddening.

“I...um,” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time to eat lunch so-”

“Get whatever you want,” he responded softly, hoping that you knew that the smile he wore upon his lips was one of adoration.

Before you had time to respond the waitress had appeared at the end of the table, an expectant smile upon her features as she held a pen and pad before her.

“Can I get you guys anything?” she asked cheerily.

Eddie noticed the way you whipped your head back down to the menu, frantically scanning each item and their description.

“I’ll get a triple chocolate fudge milkshake and...” Eddie paused, pretending to peruse the menu to try and give you more time to decide. “And a cheeseburger, please.”

The waitress’s pen began moving across the pad.

“I’ll get...um...the...um,” you hesitated. “Actually, I’ll just get a cheeseburger as well, please.”

The waitress nodded, smiled, and then left.

“No milkshake?” Eddie asked.

“I thought you said last time that we would share.”

A wide smile broke out onto Eddie’s lips at your remembering of such a fleeting statement. It caused something warm to erupt within him, something that had his smile somehow growing and something that had him wishing that he had taken the seat beside you instead, if only he could sit just a little bit closer to you.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget?”

The two of you shared a smile.

“So how’s your song writing for the competition coming along?” you asked.

Eddie was starting not to like how the conversation always seemed to shift back to the competition whenever he talked with you. It made him feel like that was the only thing that the two of you shared in common. It made him feel like he wasn’t getting to know you as much as he so wanted to. But most of all, it made him feel like absolute shit for the sole reason that it would remind him of that stupid conversation he had had with his bandmates on that rainy night in his trailer.

“I’ve got a few songs in the works, but nothing that’s finished,” was all Eddie said, racking his brain for ways to change the subject.

“You should show me when we go back to yours to watch the movie. Maybe I could help.”

Eddie didn’t quite know what to say.

Because he had altogether forgotten that he had invited you over; that you would be in his trailer with him watching a movie that he already knew he wouldn’t be able to pay attention to. Because the thought of you perched lazily upon his couch, maybe a popcorn bowl sat on your lap, had now invaded his mind and was seemingly determined to stay there. Because the thought of you reading over the lyrics he had written and critiquing it had his palms sweating and his heart beginning to race. Because, mostly, the thought of you sitting down and helping him finish the lyrics he had begun would solidify the scheme.

Up until that point the tips you had given him had always been in passing. And whilst he had committed all of them to memory to implement into his songs later, it was almost as if, now that you had actually offered to properly help him, his betrayal was all the more real.

He was going to tell you, he decided. Tell you everything from the very beginning and just hope that you didn’t hate his guts afterwards. That was what you deserved, the truth, even if it was going to ruin whatever it was that had been blossoming between the two of you.

But then when he looked upon you, altogether realising that he had been silent for too long and the air between you was growing awkward, the words would not form within his mouth. This was so very nice, you being there with him, and Eddie couldn’t quite bring himself to ruin that.

“Okay,” he eventually managed to get out, hating himself a little bit more as he did so.  

He could tell that you had picked up on his change in demeanour; your head titled to the side, your brows slightly furrowed. But then the waitress was back, holding the cheeseburgers and the milkshake, and Eddie found himself letting out a small sigh of relief as your attention instead turned to the food that was placed before you.

A wide smile broke out onto Eddie’s lips at the sheer excitement that engulfed your features as you hastily shoved a chip into your mouth. You moaned at the taste, the sound heavenly to Eddie’s ears as his smile only continued to grow.

The two of you ate in silence, Eddie only picking at his food, the knot that had begun to form in his stomach making it tough to swallow much. You ate your burger in its entirety, practically licking the plate clean until it was just the milkshake that sat between you. Neither of you had touched it, the two straws sticking up from its centre somehow taunting you. In the end, the both of you leaned forwards at the same moment to take a sip, meeting in the middle as you each grabbed a straw. It was mesmerising, being this close to you now as Eddie found his gaze captivated within your own. You offered him a shy smile as you both took a sip, your faces only inches apart.

When Eddie pulled away it was with hesitation, already yearning to smell your perfume once more. He leaned back into his seat, trying to act nonchalant when his racing heart and raging blush said otherwise.

“So what films did you rent for us to pick from?” you enquired, leaning forwards to take another sip from the milkshake.

“Well the first one I got was Top Gun,” Eddie said.

“They have that on tape already? I swear I only just saw that at the movies.”

“What did you think about it? Like it enough to watch it again?”

“Nah it wasn’t my favourite.”

Eddie, who had been halfway through taking a sip of the milkshake, nearly spat it out in disgust.

“What was wrong with it?” There was more aggression in his voice than he had been expecting causing a wide smile to spread across your features as you stifled a laugh.

“What was the actual plot of that movie?” you questioned.

“I-it’s about the value of friendship and of one man’s valiant battle in winning respect among his superiors and-”

“No but if you look at the actual break down of the plot most of it makes no real sense. In the beginning Maverick is this cocky pilot who doesn’t listen to orders and always gets in trouble. Even when he gets into TOPGUN he still doesn’t listen to his superiors and fucks up a bunch because of it. And then when Goose dies it’s the most pivotal moment in the movie and when I watched it I thought ‘this is where Maverick is really going to change as a protagonist’. But Goose dying is in no way Maverick’s fault so there’s no lesson to learn from his death which basically makes Goose’s death pointless in the scheme of the movie and-”

Eddie smiled as he watched you ramble. He liked this, he realised, talking about pointless shit with you; even if your opinion was so wholeheartedly wrong. It felt easy and comfortable and altogether quite homely in a way he had not felt in some time.

“I cannot sit here and listen to you smear Goose’s name through the mud,” Eddie said, dramatically shuffling out of the booth before coming to stand at the end of it. You looked up at him, something close to surprise covering your features as Eddie leaned down, grabbed your hand within his and began pulling you out of the seat.

“I’m going to make you rewatch it and I shall enlighten you as to why it is a fantastic movie.”

A laugh erupted from your throat as you came to stand before Eddie, and for just a moment Eddie found himself incapable of looking at anything else. He could listen to your laugh for eternity, he thought, and he was quite certain he would never get bored of hearing it. Walking down to the counter, Eddie couldn’t quite help but smile at the fact that you had not pulled your hand away from his, your fingers still entwined. So he was very much taken aback to find that after he had left a few notes upon the counter to cover the cost of your meals, your touch had suddenly vanished.

“No no no,” you said as you remained by the counter, rifling through your bag until you procured your purse. “I’ll pay for my half.”

“Ah, no you won’t,” Eddie said, trying to grasp your hand once more to pull you out of the diner. You evaded his grip as you fished around for some money, the waitress having begun to make her way over to the both of you.

“Yes, I will. You said we were going for milkshakes and I had a whole burger so I’ll pay for-”

“Oh my god, is that Freddie Mercury?!” Eddie suddenly exclaimed, gasping as he pointed out of one of the window.

Eddie knew that the turning of your head was purely from instinct rather than anything else. He also knew that his window of opportunity in which you were distracted was altogether quite fleeting. So without thinking he bent down, wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted, rushing as quickly as he could towards the door with you now held securely against his chest.

“Eddie!” you screamed, the wide smile evident in your voice as laughter escaped from your throat.

“Quickly, we’ll miss him!” Eddie exclaimed, ignoring you as you beat down half-heartedly on his grip around your waist.

It was only once he had successfully gotten you outside that he finally put you down, laughter erupting from both of you as the sound filled the empty carpark. You clenched your hand into a fist and swung up to hit Eddie on the shoulder, unable to hide your smile as he dramatically threw himself backwards in an act of pain.

“You’re such a dufus,” you said between breaths.

You were close now, closer than either of you realised as your breathing began to return to a normal pace. The silence of the carpark was deafening now as you continued to stare up at Eddie and as he continued to stare back.

“Well I’m a dufus who wants to treat his girl right.”

His girl.

Those two words had your breath hitching in your throat and your heart racing and your palms beginning to sweat. Those two words had you itching to reach up and pull Eddie’s lips down to yours and simultaneously wanting to turn right around and sprint away in the opposite direction.

Those two words scared the hell out of you, but in the best way possible.

“Now we’ve got a movie to watch, and I have an opinion to change,” Eddie continued, his form leaving your side as he made his way over to the van and promptly opened the passenger door for you.

With a smile, you took his proffered hand and climbed inside.

His girl.

 

---

 

Eddie’s trailer was almost exactly like how you had pictured it to be; slightly messy, slightly chaotic and entirely homely.

And whilst there was the slight smell of weed that lingered within the air and whilst there were still rings of condensation on the coffee table and a precariously stacked pile of dishes in the sink, it was still obviously clear that Eddie had cleaned before your arrival. Cushions and pillows were placed carefully in the corners of the couch and there was the scent of Febreze mingling in with the weed. The thought brought a soft smile to your features.

Although the trailer was Eddie’s home he seemed remarkably out of place as the two of you entered, his hands flying from the pockets of his jeans to the roots of his hair before they came to rest crossed upon his chest. It was clear that he was watching you as you watched the room, and so you turned back towards him and offered him a smile that you hoped would clear the awkwardness that had begun to grow around you.

“I’ve got some popcorn if you wanted me to cook that before we put the movie on,” Eddie said, his voice slightly wobbly. He cleared his throat, trying against all hope to compose himself, not altogether too sure as to why the sight of you within his home made him so nervous in the first place.

“Okay,” you said. “But I thought you were going to show me that song.”

Eddie stilled.

He had so wished that you would forget about it; that he could get through this date without any more mention of the competition or song writing so that maybe he could pretend that this date was a date and nothing more. That there had never been any ulterior motive for wanting to spend time with you. But from the expectant look upon your face, Eddie knew that he could not avoid the topic without the transition in conversation seeming unnatural.  

“Y-yeah, of course,” Eddie said, his voice slightly softer than he had intended.

With each step that Eddie took towards his room and with each step that you followed, something began twisting in the pit of his stomach. Eddie was not one to get nervous very often, but now, having you in his home eagerly awaiting to read something he had written, it was as if he couldn’t quite get his nervous system under control. Eddie had never done cocaine—had, in truth, never done anything harder than ketamine—but he was quite sure that what he was feeling in that moment must feel similar.

But then there was you, strolling quite happily down his hallway, completely unaware to the wreck that Eddie was slowly becoming in front of you. He wanted to stop, he wanted to turn around and he wanted to lead you towards the tv and put on a stupid movie. He wanted to maybe drape a blanket over the both of you and he wanted to pretend to yawn as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and he wanted to entwine his fingers in yours if you would let him.

But then he was swinging his door open and leading you inside to where he had thankfully had the foresight to at least make his bed even though he had not expected you to ever venture this far into his trailer. You were smiling softly up at him as he turned around to face you, still just as excited and just as expectant to see his work as you had been back at the diner.

“I like how you’ve hung up your guitar,” you said absentmindedly, walking further into the room to inspect where it was hanging upon the wall. And although Eddie was perfectly well aware that you knew your way around a guitar, although he was quite positive that you would treat his guitar with as much care as you did with yours, he still couldn’t quite help himself as he leaned over you and plucked the instrument off the wall before your outstretched hand could touch it. The action happened so quickly that at first Eddie’s shocked expression mirrored your own. He thought for just a moment that he had offended you, that you would turn right back around and leave his trailer without another word. But then you were leaning your head back, a laugh escaping from your throat.

Eddie breathed out a sigh.

“Someone’s touchy,” you teased, reaching out with your index finger to try and lay it just once upon the guitar. Eddie, a wide smile now upturning his lips, pulled it away once more.

“I can never be too careful around the competition.”

“You’re putting some ideas in my head now, Munson.”

Eddie let out a slight chuckle as he threw himself backwards upon his bed, strumming lazily upon the strings of his guitar. His eyes flickered over to you as you wandered about his room, lazily glancing over every surface until your eyes became transfixed upon his shelves.

“You’ve got quite the collection here,” you said with a whistle as you flicked through the multitude of records that sat stacked upon the shelf. “Why do you have two of the same album?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot upwards as you pulled out one of his two copies of Master of Puppets, desperately trying to rack his brain for any kind of explanation. The truth would sound too stalkerish, he was quite sure.

“Oh, wait, this one’s scratched.”

Eddie shot upwards.

“You scratched my record?” he exclaimed.

“No! It was scratched when I picked it up.”

“I cannot believe you scratched my record.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself once more, but upon turning to look at Eddie, you found his lips upturned in a taunting smile. With a roll of your eyes, you turned your head away in an attempt to hide your own smile, placing the record back upon the shelf before returning to your perusal. Eddie’s gaze returned back to his guitar, his fingers plucking the strings absentmindedly.

“Do you have anything that’s not metal?”

“Why would I need anything that’s not metal?” Eddie asked back.

“For some variety. Do you not get bored listening to this stuff all the tim–oh my god.”

Eddie whipped his head up to look at you as a shocked gasp fell from your lips, his eyes scanning your figure hurriedly in search of whatever had pained you. But instead, you simply turned back around to face him slowly.

“I knew it,” you said. Eddie furrowed his brows. “I knew you were hiding something from me.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide.

You knew the truth.

Although how you had come across it he wasn’t altogether too sure, for he was quite positive that there was nothing within the shelves of his records that would have led you back to the plan. Eddie’s heart began to race now, his hands sweating as he gripped his guitar so tightly his knuckles began to go white. He needed to provide you with an explanation, he knew, or at least an apology. But suddenly his mouth had gone completely dry, and he was quite positive that if he attempted to speak nothing would come out.

But then your lips were upturning into a wide smile and Eddie could do nothing other than continue to stare back at you, now thoroughly confused.

“You’re a Neil Diamond fan,” you said, procuring a record from his shelf.

Eddie let out a sigh and had to refrain from bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes, all the tension and stress leaving his body all at once. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything as you turned your attention back to his shelf.

“Oh my god!” you said again. “Billy Joel too?”

At the sight of your sheer excitement, Eddie couldn’t quite stop the small smile that returned to his lips.

“They’re my uncles,” Eddie said.

“And yet they’re in your room.”

“I promise you I have never once listened to those records.”

“Well then your missing out because your uncle has got some good taste.”

You returned the Neil Diamond record back to the shelf and pulled the Billy Joel one from its casing, practically skipping over to Eddie’s record player before placing the record gently down onto the turntable.

“No,” Eddie said, jumping up from the bed and following you. “If we’re listening to music it’s not going to be Billy Joel.”

But a song had already begun playing and your hips had already begun swaying and so Eddie found himself quite incapable of following through with his intentions, too transfixed by the sight of you dancing within his bedroom. The song was slow, one that Eddie was unfamiliar with although that came as no surprise. But then, as the vocals began, Eddie found his breath hitching in his throat at the sound of your voice filling the room too.

“Don't go changing to try and please me

You never let me down before, mmm

Don't imagine you're too familiar

And I don't see you anymore.”

Seemingly as if it were moving of its own volition, Eddie watched as his hand came up to outstretch before him, reaching to grasp your hand within his own. He half expected you to pull away, but you didn’t as you allowed him to slot his fingers in between yours. You turned to face him, a soft smile directed up at him, before Eddie pulled you gently into him. The action was slow as the both of you began to sway to the music, something thick and palpable growing in the air between you.

You were close now, so very close that Eddie couldn’t quite seem to stop his gaze from flickering down to your lips. It would be so easy to just lean forwards, he thought, for the space between you now was practically non-existent. But he didn’t, too busy revelling in the sight of you like this before him. So the two of you continued to sway as Billy Joel continued to sing, and when you shifted your head to lay upon Eddie’s chest, never stopping in your motions, Eddie thought it likely that his heart might explode. He closed his eyes, not quite believing that this was all real.

But then the song was coming to an end and your warmth was suddenly leaving him as you pulled away. He opened his eyes and followed you as you walked over and perched yourself upon the bed.

“So let’s here this song you’re struggling with.”

Eddie thought he must have done something wrong. But then there was the sight of your familiar smile being directed right at him and he felt the anxiety in his chest ease slightly.

Eddie thought about lying; maybe saying that he had forgotten the lyrics or that it was more a single chord progression than an actual song. But then he turned to look down towards you—a soft smile curving your lips, your hair falling slightly in front of your face—and he found the lies dying upon his lips. So instead he reluctantly made his way over to his chest of drawers to where a series of stray pieces of paper were scattered haphazardly across the surface. Old receipts, napkins, torn off pages of books had all been vandalised in his messy handwriting. He had thought about cleaning the space before your arrival, but the space was an organised mess that worked quite well in collating Eddie’s song ideas and so he hadn’t been able to bring himself to move anything around.

He rifled through the papers before his hand came to rest upon an old school quiz, lyrics written lazily within the margins. It wasn’t anywhere near how neat Eddie imagined your notebook to be, and so found himself growing quite embarrassed as he eventually handed the paper over to you before reclaiming his place upon the bed once more and laid down.

In an attempt to fixate his gaze anywhere but on you as you read, Eddie fixated his eyes upon the ceiling as he brought his guitar up once more and began strumming at the strings.

“This is really good, Eddie.”

The sincerity in your voice warmed him.

“Can you play it for me?”

Eddie stilled.

He had played so many concerts in front of so many people and had barely batted an eye. But now, here, in front of you, Eddie couldn’t quite fathom plucking the strings of his guitar and singing into the empty air that sat between you. His hands began to sweat, his grip upon his guitar tightening as his breathing grew ragged. But then as he turned to look at you with your kind eyes and your gentle smile and your calming presence, Eddie felt his nerves melt away, his fingers dancing across the strings seemingly of their own volition until he was playing the opening notes of the song.

“Eighteen, crazy

Pulled up in your daddy’s car

You wanna move in with me

Guess we’re off to a heavy start.”

As Eddie played—his back laying against the mattress of his bed, his guitar perched across his stomach, his gaze fixated anywhere but on you—he felt you shuffle slightly from where you had been sitting upon the edge of the bed. You grew closer now as you mimicked Eddie’s positioning and laid down next to him, the mattress dipping slightly. Eddie kept his gaze upon the ceiling, knowing that if he turned to look at you he would not be able to look away. But his attempts were in vain as the shadow of your smile became visible in his peripheral vision and he found his head turning towards you anyway.

“So if you wanna piss off your parents

Date me to scare them

Show them you’re all grown up.”

Eddie found himself quite thankful that he had gotten no further in writing the chorus for he was quite sure that if he had continued to sing as his gaze landed upon you his voice would have surely cracked. For there you were lying next to him in his bed; an image that had only ever been real in the depths of his mind. And you were so very close to him now, the heat emanating off of your skin warming his body slightly, the smell of your perfume completely engulfing him.

“It’s…um…it’s better with the drums and bass and…stuff,” Eddie whispered into the silence that sat between you.

“I think it’s really good already.”

Eddie thought as he stared at you that if he inclined his head and leaned forwards just slightly—an action that would in theory take no effort at all—his lips would be on yours. They would be soft, he was quite positive as his gaze flickered down to them, so soft that he felt like nipping and sucking at them until they were swollen from his ministrations.

“I like it like this anyway,” you continued.

Eddie’s gaze flicked back up to your eyes, a raging blush erupting onto his cheeks as he swiftly turned his head away to hide it, pretending to instead look down at his guitar.

“What do you mean?”

“I like your voice like this. Without all the drums and guitars and loudness that you hide behind.”

“I don’t hide behind loudness.”

“Well it’s still nice to hear your voice properly,” you said, and Eddie could feel himself blushing at the compliment. “Is that as far as you’ve gotten with the chorus?”

“Ugh, yeah. I’ve tried a couple different lines but nothing seems to be fitting quite right.”

“Play me the beginning again.”

Eddie hesitated as you suddenly jumped up from where you had been laying, leaning down to rifle through your bag. You procured the black notebook that Eddie often saw in your possession, and a pen along with it before you returned to the space next to him, motioning for Eddie to play. So he plucked at the strings and hummed along where he should have sung, not altogether trusting his voice as his blush persisted.

“Play the next two counts of four.”

Eddie did as he was told, distracted slightly as you began scribbling away hastily.

“Okay now play them altogether.”

Eddie began to pluck at the strings and found himself becoming wholeheartedly surprised as you began to sing the lyrics he had just sung. The sound of his words upon your tongue sounded so very heavenly that Eddie felt something stir within him, something that he could not allow himself to acknowledge lying down so close to you. He pushed the thought from his mind, trying to regain focus, until he began to play past the lyrics he had written and realised that you were still singing.

“If long hair and tattoos are what attract you

Baby then you’re in luck.”

The smile that spread across Eddie’s face was wide, paired with a slight chuckle that escaped from his throat. When he turned back to look at you an equally wide smile was mirrored upon across your lips.

“What inspired those lyrics?” Eddie asked teasingly.

“Oh, you know, just this guy I know.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered down to your lips once more, slightly mesmerised by the smile that continued to grow there.

“Play the rest of the chorus. We can finish this thing.”

“Okay okay,” Eddie said, laughing at your eagerness.

Eddie plucked the chords for the rest of the chorus before he turned his gaze away from his guitar and back to you. Your brows were furrowed now, your face contorted into a look of concentration as you hummed the tune back to yourself over and over. Eddie played the chords once more, turning his mind to the lyrics before he found his own voice filling the room.

“And I know it’s just a phase

You’re not in love with me.

You wanna piss off your parents, baby

Piss off your parents, that’s alright with me.”

Eddie smiled to himself, laughing slightly at the lyrics. He liked the song, liked how funny it was and how much it had made the boys laugh when he had showed it to them. But then he was turning back to face you once more only to find that your smile had vanished. Your face was slightly serious now, and Eddie wasn’t altogether too sure why.

“What’s this song about, Eddie?”

The question was a simple one, and yet Eddie found himself wanting to change the topic. Because of course you had seen past the layers of humour he had infused into the song. Of course you had seen past the joking lyrics to what lied beneath them; a part of himself that he had hidden away a long time ago.

The comfortable air had changed between you now, something thick and heavy taking its place instead. Eddie thought about lying, about passing the song off as just the joke that he had intended it to be. But somehow he knew that you would see past that as well, that you would always see past the lies and the jokes until there was just him and all of his tainted self laid out bare before you.

“Artists always write songs about love,” Eddie found himself saying, his voice less firm than he had wanted it to be. He turned his gaze up to the ceiling, wishing that he could not feel the heat of your stare as you listened intently. “But I’ve never…” Eddie paused, composing himself. “I’ve never had anything like that before.”

Eddie heard the shuffle of your arm as it moved closer towards him, felt the soft touch of your fingers as they entwined with his. Something in his chest eased slightly as the warmth of your skin washed over him, the callouses on the pads of your fingers mirroring his own in a way that was so oddly comforting.

“In high school I would get so excited whenever anyone would show any kind of attention to me. There were a few times when girls would flirt with me for a while and then they would invite me over to their place or they would want to come here, and we would…you know.” Eddie couldn’t say it out loud. “And then when were done they would get changed and then they would tell me to never tell a soul what we did.”

Eddie felt your hand squeeze his gently and he braved a look towards you. Your eyes were so soft as they met his, so patient and gentle that for just a moment Eddie felt like crying.

“It’s not great for the confidence having people so repulsed by you that they won’t even be seen in public with you.”

“Well then they’re missing out.” Eddie felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.

But the air was still slightly awkward now as neither of you quite knew what to say. Taking in a deep breath, concentrating on the way that Eddie’s hand was holding your own so very firmly, your voice filled the room.

“Do you remember when I told you that I steal the stories in my songs from other people’s lives?”

Eddie nodded, barely allowing himself to breath as your gaze flickered away from his. He didn’t quite know how the both of you had ended up like this; spilling parts of yourselves you had not uttered to anyone in years. But in a weird way he kind of liked it. He would be lying if he said that telling you about his past hadn’t eased a weight from his shoulders. He would also be lying if he said he hadn’t been immensely intrigued by the allusions Robin and Steve had made about your own past. The thought made him feel slightly repulsed by himself, but he did not stop you as you continued.

“Well that’s because my run-ins with relationships have all been very…fake.”

Eddie wanted to tell you to stop if you so wished, wanted to tell you that it wasn’t necessary that you share something deep just because he had. But then as he looked upon you, your gaze still fixed to the ceiling, he realised that maybe you were feeling the very same relief that he had just felt at having shared something that had been buried for so long. So he decided to just listen as you continued.

“The first time anyone ever asked me out was in freshman year.” Your voice was soft now and far too timid for Eddie’s liking. “It was a guy in the year above me who was on the basketball team, so of course I said yes. We were supposed to go to Olive Garden for dinner and so I showed up and I waited and I waited but he never came.” Eddie squeezed your hand in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “Turns out he’d only asked me out on a bet. Apparently the basketball team had a bet going to see who could get a date with a freshman the quickest.”

Eddie felt a rage so intense and so powerful erupt within him. He wanted to find the entirety of that basketball team and connect his fist repeatedly with their faces. He wanted to pin them down and make them hurt just as they had made you hurt. But just as Eddie had been about to offer whatever semblance of reassurance that he could, you continued.

“And then in sophomore year Tommy H asked me out and I stupidly said yes again. We watched a movie at his house but before we had even gotten through the first scene his hand was trying to get down my pants. So I left and the next day he had told everyone that I had shown up to his house uninvited and blown him in the doorway. I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend until Carol was throwing a drink in my face.”

Eddie so wished that he could do something to ease the pain so evidently written across your features. He wished that he could do anything other than simply continue to hold your hand, completely at a loss for how to do anything to comfort you. He felt entirely useless within that moment, and he loathed himself for it.

When you eventually turned your gaze back to Eddie he felt his breath hitching within his throat. Something had changed between you now, something that made the air just a little bit more breathable, a little bit more comfortable. Your gaze was intense as it bore into his, seeing him in a way he had not been seen in so long. For just a moment he felt like turning away from you. But he didn’t. Instead he held your gaze for as long as he could, moving his head infinitesimally closer to yours until your lips were inches apart.

He could feel you now; the heat emanating from your skin, the electricity in your touch as his hand still remained firmly in your grasp. His eyes danced across your features, drinking in the sight of you like this before him, so breathtakingly beautiful that if Eddie were to suddenly wake up from a dream, he would not be altogether surprised. He drunk in the soft curve of your lips and the line of your jaw and the glimmer in your eyes. Your breath was hot against his cheek now, the feeling oddly comforting.

Without thinking, Eddie brought his hand up to tuck a strand of your hair back behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he did so. You shivered slightly at his touch, revelling in the soft caress of his skin against yours. His hand lingered upon the curve of your jaw, holding you there so gently that you closed your eyes at the touch.

He didn’t deserve you, Eddie thought to himself, not like this. He didn’t deserve the way your lips curved slightly upwards as you leaned into him further, he didn’t deserve the way his heart seemed to flutter at the realisation that this was all real. Because after everything that you had told him, after you had essentially put your heart onto a platter and entrusted it within his grasp, he was still withholding something from you. He wished that he could erase that conversation he had had in his trailer on that rainy night. He wished he could go back in time and kick himself for ever having agreed to such a stupid plan.

You deserved the truth, and Eddie knew that he had to give it to you. You would hate him, he was quite sure. You would get up and leave and he would be left behind still lying upon his bed completely still as he tried to remember this moment when you had been his for just a second. Eddie breathed in deeply, trying to burn this moment into his memory forever before he ruined it all.

“Eddie,” you whispered into the silence that sat between you, your voice entirely breathless.

“Yes?” he breathed back, quite grateful that you had spoken first for it served to prolong the moment if only slightly.

“Do you remember the song I sang at the last round of the competition?”

“Yes,” he breathed again, unable to stop the smile from upturning his lips.

“It wasn’t about Robin.”

Kiss her you fool.

Eddie wished that he had found the strength to pull away from you in that moment, just like he had managed to do back in his van after the party. But that moment felt like a lifetime ago, and Eddie could not quite fathom how he had accomplished such a feat when you were right here before him, baring all of yourself.

So in the end, he barely even hesitated as he traversed the distance that still sat between you and connected his lips to yours. In that moment he hated himself more than he ever had before, but he could not quite manage to regret his actions. For you were so warm and soft and breathtakingly delicious as your hand left his grasp and instead came up to tangle within his hair, your other hand cupping the back of his neck as you tried to pull him impossibly closer.

The kiss was slow at first, the both of you tentatively mapping the other out. It was hesitant and cautious and entirely breathtaking. He had been right, Eddie realised, your lips were so impossibly soft against his. Eddie brought one hand up to clutch at your waist, needing to feel you completely against him. You smiled slightly against his lips at the action, tangling your legs within his.

And then, slowly, the kiss became more heated. There was a hunger now that consumed the both of you, something that made you want to devour each other. You were the one to deepen the kiss first, and Eddie couldn’t quite help himself from moaning at your taste. With one hand still fixed firmly to your waist, the other cupping your face, Eddie pulled you somehow closer into him until he was suspending himself above you, your chests pressed together in such a way that he was quite sure you could feel the rapid beating of his heart.

He thought it quite likely that he could spend forever with you in that moment even though his lungs had begun to burn quite painfully and he was starting to get slightly lightheaded. The thought oddly terrified him, for he could not seem to pull away from you.

In the end, it was you who had to pull away first, and whilst Eddie found himself swallowing a disappointed groan, he was altogether quite grateful for the action as he inhaled deeply. He kept his head pressed against your forehead however, unwilling to let your touch leave him completely.

The sight of you panting beneath him stirred something in Eddie that he dared not acknowledge. He wanted nothing more than to connect his lips with your neck, trailing his kisses downwards, covering every square inch of you. He wanted to lift his shirt off and feel the slight callouses of your fingertips run along his skin. He wanted to kiss you anywhere that you would let him, touch you anywhere that you would let him until it was only you that he could feel, only you that he could hear, only you that he could taste.

But he would not allow himself to indulge in such pleasures; not whilst he continued to run away from the truth that you deserved to know.

So he pulled away, and he continued to pull away until there was just the sweet voice of Billy Joel masking the sound of your panting.

“But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be

Blame it all on yourself 'cause she's always a woman to me.”

---

Songs Used:

- Just The Way You Are by Billy Joel

- 18 by Anabor

- She's Always A Woman To Me by Billy Joel

---

Taglist:

@alicetweven​ @juggernort @theh3aven​ @manamitoyota​ @mimiluvsualot​ @cherrypieyourface​ @kaqua​ @c0untryclub​ @goldencherriess​ @emotionaldreamer​ @givemethesleep​ @milkiane​ @miscreantsnopossoms​ @legendaryfestsoul-blog​

Series Taglist

@grungegrrrl​ @thirddeadlysin​ @boomitsallie1​ @renaroo123​ @wordsthatwaterflowersinyoursoul​ @annnnn91​ @bakugouswh0r3​ @aivilovio​ @wannabewiedzma​

[doingitforbokuto]

Reunion

-> AONE TAKANOBU X READER

Summary: First loves will always have a special place in our hearts.

Words: 1,529

Warnings: none

It had been a while since you had last seen Aone. Back in highschool you two weren’t all that close, though you weren’t strangers either. The position of the manager of the volleyball team brought you two closer over time, spending more and more time during training and meetings after school. It would be a lie if you said that you only ever saw a good teammate in him, or a friend. More than once had your thoughts circled around him, lingered on his strong build, his rare but breathtaking smiles, his compassion for his friends. But with his silent demeanour it could be a little hard for you to interpret the signs he gave you - if he was giving you any at all.

The last thing that you had wanted was for you to make him uncomfortable by confessing your feelings to him. You knew how kind he was, he would probably struggle to reject someone that he was close to, someone he enjoyed spending time with. So up until graduation you had kept those feelings as hidden as possible. Afterwards you thought you might meet someone new, someone else you might fall in love with. But your hopes and prayers were left unanswered, no date ever really able to match up to your highschool crush.

Still, you told yourself that it was okay, that he didn’t even cross your mind that often. And after a couple of months - years - it seemed to become true. At least that was what you told yourself. You started daring more, seeing more people, thinking about others. None the less, he always made his way back into your mind, when it was late at night and sleep wouln‘t come, when everything was stressful he was a comforting thought, when you watched a romantic movie, listened to a lovely song he was always right there in the back of your head.

And now he was standing in front of you again, a bit bigger, a big thicker, a bit older. It was a highschool reunion, only a few years after your graduation, your team and class mates excited to see each other again. The bar that had been booked by one of your old teachers who had organised this was packed full, loud and warm, the smell of alcohol and sweat mixing in the air with the sound of laughter and chatter.

You yourself were chatting with Futakuchi who was sitting next to Aone. The two of them had stayed close even after graduation and you were happy for them, they had always been good friends despite all their differences. You wished you had stayed in touch more, had more to talk about, had the ability to stop your eyes from wandering over Aone’s broad chest and thick arms. He made it almost impossible for you to have a normal conversation with anyone.

The butterflies in your stomach and the tingling sensation in between your legs was worse now than it had been even back in 12th grade. You blamed it on the alcohol in your system, though you had only had two drinks. Still, you felt dizzy. Maybe that was why you were feeling like this, why you could not concentrate on a single thing your friends said, why you could only give half coherent answers.

After half an hour of this, admittedly awkward, procedure Futakuchi excused himself, joining some other friends in a conversation and leaving you two all alone. Suddenly it was not that easy to look at him anymore. Suddenly your eyes seemed to be glued to the glass in front of you. Suddenly the feeling running through your tummy wasn’t all butterflies anymore. You felt ashamed, caught mid act.

Futakuchi knew. Aone knew. Everyone knew. This was horrible. What were you thinking?

Aone took a gulp out of his drink, the heavy beer glass clinking as he set it down again. He didn’t have a lot to drink either.

Over the sound of all the other voices, the laughter and classes clinking together Aone‘s deep voice made its way over to you.

“Are you alright?“

Finally, you looked over at him again. but he wasn‘t looking at you. Now it was his turn to stare at his drink.

“Yeah, ‘m fine, just..“ You didn‘t even know what to say now. How could you possibly explain your strange behaviour now?

“If I.. if I am bothering you, I could leave.“

Aone sounded genuinely hurt, concerned.

“No! No, that‘s not it! I don‘t want you to leave.“

It was obvious that he did not believe you. You felt stupid, not a single idea running through your head on how you could fix this, how you could possibly explain yourself other than by telling him the truth. Maybe it was time to do it anyway. What did you have to lose now? Other than your dignity..

Without thinking it over again your hand reached out almost on its own, grabbing Aone‘s drink, gulping down the remaining liquor in his glass.

“I don‘t want you to leave unless you take me with you.“

For a moment Aone‘s eyes stared back at you almost emotionless, unmoving, like they were trying to drill a hole into yours to look right into your soul. His expression was unreadable. Could he hear how genuine your words were? Could he see how pathetic you felt? Could he tell how desperately you wanted him? Could he tell how he made you feel, all the time, for all these years?

“Take you where?“

The words slipped out of his mouth slowly and heavily, almost like he didn‘t even want an answer.

“W..Wherever you want.. just wanna be with you.“

You expected him to turn away, to leave you alone instead, to roll his eyes, to be annoyed. What you did not expect was a big hand slipping over yours, abruptly pulling you out of your seat and out of the crowded room. The way you two rushed out of the bar made some heads turn though you couldn’t really see any of them with how fast Aone was pulling you forward.

The checkroom was where he finally slowed down, allowing you to catch your breath. It was more obvious than ever how much more athletic he was than you. He was standing so close to you, his hand still interlaced with you. The abrupt stop almost made you crash into him, his body so close you could smell his cologne perfectly, feel the heat radiating off of him.

His previously motionless gaze was softer now, almost insecure.

“You wanna go.. with me?“

Like it was an instinct you moved even closer to him, a hand coming up to rest on his chest. You could feel his heart racing, too, his chest moving with every breath he took.

“Wherever you wanna go.“

It was barely a whisper and you would not have been surprised if he would not have heard you over the sounds coming from the room behind you. But he did hear you and not even a minute later both of you were stumbling out of the bar, your jackets messily thrown over your shoulders, not caring how much of a messy picture you two gave off. Though you weren’t drunk you could feel your head spinning as you raced through the street, smiling and giggling at how you two were running off like love sick teenagers - and that was exactly what you felt like.

You had never seen Aone like this, never seen him act almost childish with the way he was smiling and the way he was running in front of you, not even caring where you were going, just wanting to get away from everyone else, content with holding your hand. The different street lights, bars and neon signs rushed by you in a blur, couples and groups passing and being passed. The streets were alive and loud, just like the heartbeat in your chest. You could feel it pumping in your chest even faster when you two slowed down, Aone stopping on a less busy street.

“I -“ he laughed. “What do you even want to do?“

“Kiss you.“ It was an honest answer, simple. You couldn’t believe how easy it was to finally say it after all this time, after all these years of holding back and lying to both yourself and him. And you couldn’t believe how easy it was to do it too. To see him lean forward, blush apparent even in the dim lights of the night, to reach your free hand out, to brace yourself against his warm chest as his even warmer lips softly moved against your own like it was the only thing they knew how to do.

And though you felt as if you had been catapulted back into your teen years so hard you got whiplash it didn‘t feel weird, didn‘t feel awkward. This was right, this was what you were supposed to do - had been supposed to do for quite a while now and you sure as hell weren’t stopping anytime soon.

[dameronology]

love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5

summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}

warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 

- jazz

Leaving work early was never a good look.

Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.

After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 

‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 

Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 

‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’

‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’

‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’

‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’

‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’

Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 

I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 

Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!

What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!

Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 

‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.

‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 

‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’

‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’

‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’

A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’

‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’

‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 

‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 

‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’

‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 

‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’

‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’

Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 

‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.

‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’

‘No, you’re not-’

‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 

Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’

You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 

‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.

‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’

--

Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-

‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 

Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.

You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’

‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 

‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’

‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’

‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’

Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’

He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.

‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’

‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?��

You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’

‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’

‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’

‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’

‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.

Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.

‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.

‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’

Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 

‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 

‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’

‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’

‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’

‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’

--

You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.

Seriously, you wanted to marry him.

His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 

‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’

‘Jack.’ You groaned. 

You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.

‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.

‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 

‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.

‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 

The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 

‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 

‘I’m not done asking questions-’

‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’

‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 

Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 

‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’

Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 

Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 

‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’

‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 

You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 

‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’

He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’

'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.

Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?

‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’

You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’

‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’

‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’

‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 

‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘I look forward to it.’ 

[cazimagines]

Hold on I still need you

Author's note: This was a request from anon, I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get to it but here you are. I hope you are also doing okay and have a lovely day. If you ever want to chat, any of you, my DM's are always free. I've also decided not to tag anyone in this fic as it deals with triggering themes and I don't want to tag people if it could potentially trigger them. Oh and if for some crazy reason you want to be even sadder I based the plot also on the song 'hold on' by chord oversheet so uh listen to that if you wanna be in the feels.

Synopsis: Request from anon: Can I request a sui*idal reader? Like they have thudding thoughts, the whole day her head is buzzing. Then they decide to do IT (you can decide how) and Zemo walks in and becomes heartbroken and floooooofff pls

Word count: 2k

Warnings: MENTIONS OF S*ICIDE, if you don't think you'll be okay reading it then please don't, your mental state always comes first, lots of angst followed by slight fluff, overdose

Masterlist

(Please check out my master list to see what I will be writing next and if requests are open or closed)

Cross-posted to ao3 under the same username

They wouldn’t miss you

You’re just an inconvenience to them

He doesn’t care for you. It’s all a huge prank.

It would be better if you leave

You groan in anger, hitting your head slightly to get those thoughts out of your head, but no matter how much you willed it, they would not leave you alone. Each time you tried to resolve one thought, reflecting on reasons why they do like you, your mind instead found persistent reasons for why they didn’t. Every small thing they have done which seemed off weighted down on your mind. Especially Zemo. Why didn’t he kiss you goodbye this week like he had done other weeks? Your logical side tried to argue that he simply forgot, but your paranoia always got the best of you. There is more. There has to be more. Another reason for him to avoid you. To hate you.

You didn’t want to be one of those girls whose entire life revolved around their boyfriend. You had your independence, your responsibilities, your hobbies. But these days they seemed so bland. They didn’t excite you the way they once did. Things you did for fun now felt like a chore to you. Doing anything these days felt exhausting. You knew it was annoying Zemo by how much time you spent in bed, how you stopped organising dates. But how could you find the will to do anything when you were so exhausted of life? It wasn’t as if you wanted life to end for you; it was just that you needed a break from being alive.

If you thought about it, it was the best option, right? You would finally get your peace. Your friends didn’t have to pretend to care about you anymore. Zemo could move on to date someone he actually loved. He wouldn’t feel like he only dated you out of pity. This was the best outcome. It had to be.

One of the worst things was the last walk. Your footsteps echoed along the pavement as you walked to yours and Zemo’s house. It was almost as if everything was going in slow motion for you. The corners of your eyes were blurred as you just concentrated on the path ahead. The usual outside sounds were faded, muffled to you. Instead, that singular voice inside of you rang out clearly.

‘I’m going to do it,’

Just that, again and again inside your head, unrelenting. It was as if you were still trying to convince yourself to go through with it by repeating it. Your legs felt like stone as you forced yourself to continue to walk to your resting place. Your breath quickened as you approached the door.

Walking in, you were barely coherent. Zemo was still out. He should be gone for the next few hours. That’s plenty of time. You felt a pang of guilt in your heart as you thought about him. How would he react to seeing you? You didn’t want to think about it and thankfully if all goes to plan you would never would.

You manage to find yourself in the bathroom, locking the door behind you. By the window was the medicine cabinet. Stored full of many painkillers for the headaches Zemo often got. Often his past would come back to haunt him. Shakily your hand reaches up to grasp the door handle and open it up, your eyes focusing on all the orange pill bottles that cluttered it. You weren’t focusing as you reached to grab them, your hands instead accidentally knocking them to the floor.

Swearing under your breath, you rush to pick them up, feeling your eyes water up. Finally, you felt you had enough. Swallowing one last time, you open your mouth and down the hatched.

-

Zemo’s hands clutched the bouquet. The smell of sweet roses floating off them. Roses were typical, but always one of your favourite types of flowers. His hands gently graze against the box held in his trousers pocket. A reminder of the task that had been making him nervous for the last month. To propose. No matter what happened, the time had never felt right. He wanted it to be meaningful, for it to be special. After losing his last family, he wasn’t ready to let someone like you go away.

Still, he worried for you. Your behaviour had changed over the last few months and though he tried to ask you about it, you had always shrugged it off. It was nothing. You were fine. It wasn’t nothing. You weren’t fine, and he hated that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth. That is why he was determined tonight was the night. He’d show you just how much you meant to him, and maybe then you would trust him enough to open up.

“Y/n?” he called out as he walked into the house. He’d taken the afternoon off for this moment, preparing it down to the tiniest detail, and finally, it was all falling into place. Now he had to just find you.

“Y/n?” he called out again

He paused, waiting for a response, but furrowed his eyebrows when none came. That was odd. You were always back by this time.

He started to walk around the house, checking in every room for you. As he found every room empty, his voice rose higher as he became more panicked.

Reaching the final floor, his eyes focused on the closed bedroom door, dread pooling into his stomach. The roses slip from his hand and the petals broke off as they hit the ground. His feet were already rushing to the door, his hands reaching for the handle, but no matter how hard he would push it wouldn’t give away.

“Y/N!” he shouted, hitting his fist against the wooden door in a desperate attempt that you might still be awake. He pushed his shoulder against the door with all his strength. The lock strained, giving crack to a single strain of hope for him.

He pushed his weight against it again, and then again, and finally; it broke. He stumbled, almost falling to the floor as the door burst open. He glanced around and his skin went cold as he saw you laying there surrounded by empty pill bottles. His legs folded as he collapsed beside you, pulling you close to his chest. His ears were ringing and his eyes were blurry as his fingers rested against the pulse in your neck, his head resting against your chest as he prayed for something, some sort of life.

A sob echoed from his throat, whaling coming deep from inside his chest. “Please,” he cried out, “Don’t you leave me. Not you too”

The tears streamed down his cheeks, falling on your pale, clammy skin. “Y/n” he whispered, his fingers still pressed against his pulse.

And then if by a miracle he felt it, hardly there, but he felt it, he’s sure he did. A beat.

He had already gathered your body in his arms and was racing you to the car. Ambulances would take too long. He had to get you to the hospital now. He was driving well over the speed limit but fines could easily be paid, your life couldn’t.

He swerves in and out of other cars, desperately trying to avoid any traffic, almost causing traffic by how carelessly he was driving. He could hear the cars honk at him, the expletives shouted, but none of that phased him. All that mattered was getting you to that hospital and thankfully, it paid off. He was at the hospital in a matter of minutes.

Grabbing you off the seat, he runs into the hospital holding you bridal style, screaming for help. The poor receptionist looked traumatised as she saw your ghostly pale head swinging as Zemo rushed towards the desk.

Quickly nurses had grabbed a hospital bed, and Zemo carefully placed you onto it. As they carted you away, Zemo grasped your hand, determined to follow you. He was instead forced to let go of you. He argued relentlessly to them that he needed to be there; he had to be there with you. Didn’t they know who he was? He got everything he wanted if he so asked but now he was forced into the waiting room along with everyone else. He couldn’t be with you, and it was killing him.

He paced around the room anxiously. People watched his stressed-out self as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up. Occasionally his hand would flicker down to his pocket where the ring rested and a lump would come to his throat. Every time a nurse came into the waiting room, he would instantly turn to them, hoping that it would be about you. But it wasn’t and so he was left with his thoughts again as he went over in his mind what he had done wrong for you to ever want to do that. It must have been something he did. The way he treated you. Something he said. The blame rested solely on him.

Finally, the nurse came in, looking for him. As soon as she said the words, he was rushing to your room. As he reached it, he burst through the door, his eyes focusing on the bed in front of him.

There you laid peacefully.

Asleep.

But alive.

The next few hours he spent sitting beside you, just staring at your peaceful face, his hand grasping yours. The nurses tried to get him to leave, claiming you would be asleep for a few hours, but he refused. He had to be there when you woke up. He couldn’t imagine leaving you to wake up on your own.

After a few hours, your eyes finally crack open as you awake. As your senses come back to you, you could feel something holding your hand. Moving your head slightly, you saw Zemo beside you.

As soon as you moved your head he perked up and a wave of relief washed over him seeing you awake.

“Y/n, oh thank god,” he whispers, squeezing your hand tightly.

“Zemo? Where am I?” You ask.

“You are at the hospital after you… well,” he trails off, the word getting chocked in his throat as he thought back to what happened.

Your eyes started to swarm with tears as you feel guilt wash over you, knowing what must have happened for you to end up here with Zemo.

“Zemo, I’m so sorry”

“Please don’t apologise, you don’t need to apologise” Zemo instantly says, sorrow deep within his eyes, “But please, tell me what I did wrong. I can’t lose you y/n, so whatever it is, whatever lead you to that tell me”

“Zemo, it isn’t your fault. You’ve been perfect, you always have been. It’s me, it’s all me. It was so stupid of me Zemo, I shouldn’t have put you through something like that”

His grip on your hand tightened as he leaned over to put his hand on the side of your face, making you turn to look at him. “Don’t say that. You are not stupid. Far from it. Now please, tell me the real reason”

You sigh, leaning into his hand. “I didn’t feel worthy of you. Of anyone. I’m tired Zemo, I’m so tired and you deserve someone who can give you their all. And that isn’t me. I don’t feel alright and I’m not sure if I ever will again”

Zemo’s thumb strokes your face in comfort as he looks at you before deciding to get up and get on the bed next to you, pulling you into a hug in the tight space you two had. “I love you y/n, if anything I do not deserve you. I understand how you feel and I know you will feel better in time, with help you will be. I will ensure you get the best help and will be with you every step of the way if you will have me”

He clasped you as you cried into his chest, his whispers of comfort and reassurance settling deep within yourself. You knew things would be hard; you knew you would doubt yourself again; you doubt him. But a part of you knew that with Zemo beside you, helping you, loving you. You could pull through.

A/N: If you made it to here I salute you for getting through the angst. Just remember you are never alone and if you are ever feeling in a bad way don't be afraid to reach out, I love you all 💕

[smoochkooks]

—chapter one: the beginning of an end

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: loving jeon jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

previous || next

You’re positive your favourite sound in the whole world is the rhythmic, repetitive sound of your fingers tapping on the keyboard.

Everyone has a different approach when it comes to coping with stress and anxiety. Some people drink away their unwanted emotions, some drown themselves in work, some watch yet another, mediocre Netflix show. But your solution, your little panacea has always been writing.

You’re not the best when it comes to expressing your true feelings. You can struggle with saying ‘I love you’ to your mother and then write a long, affectionate letter for her birthday that makes her eyes turn glossy. You may stutter and tumble on your own words while trying to order coffee and then complete academic essays with ease.  

Whenever you feel like you’re overwhelmed, boiled up with mixed emotions, you do exactly what your school counselor told you many years ago: you let it out. She never mentioned any specifics, simply encouraging you to find your own way. And that’s exactly what you did – you picked it up yourself. First, it was writing a diary. No less than two weeks into it, you got bored. Turns out describing in detail every single mundane day of your life was never your forté. You threw away your old notebook, bought a new one and decided to write there whenever you felt like you really wanted to, not out of obligation.  

And you continue to do so, these days you opt for a use of modern technology often. You open your laptop and pour your feelings onto a digital sheet of paper. It’s cathartic, in a way. Getting rid of what you feel like is weighing you down.  

Jungkook however, your dearest best friend, has always been on the other side of the spectrum. Loud, obnoxious, a life and soul of the party who happened to miraculously befriend the most quiet introvert in class. Sometimes you still wonder how your friendship has managed to survive almost twenty years. You’re two polar opposites. Fire and water. Storm and chilly breeze. A confession screamed in the middle of the night and handwritten love letter.  

You’re a dichotomy. Made of the same atoms, pulling in and pulling away. And if the phrase ‘opposites attract’ held any significance, maybe you would’ve ended up together. But in your case, it’s yet another platitude. Something that seems to work out only in books and movies. Because, if that was true, he would never fell in love with a female version of him, just graced with a sprinkle of pure sweetenes Jungkook sometimes lacks.

Soojin is everything you will never be. Polite, outgoing, sociable and so likeable you hate yourself for despising her. Truthfully, there’s nothing bad you could say about her. No wonder he’s fallen head over heels for her, not you.

What’s there to love about you, if you willing chose to pin for a boy that’s so out of your league? It’s actually hilarious to even dream about him returning your feelings.

You stare at the screen with half-lidded eyes. The clock reads quarter past midnight, letters start to blur into nothingness. Yet another chapter of your miserable life is completed as you save the document and slam your laptop shut. You don’t bother to shower or take off your clothes. Sleepiness hits you right when you close your eyes.  

You dream of wedding halls and never spoken love confessions.

You read once on Twitter that being an adult means checking your e-mail as a part of your morning social media routine and since then, you haven’t quite related to anything more in your life.  

At the very top of your inbox there’s yet another e-mail from your Creative Writing proffesor, Kim Namjoon. He’s a very stubborn man, you decide, as you scroll through the contents of his message. He still wants you to consider what he told you a few days ago after class, it seems.  

“Miss ___? Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“Sure.” you replied and awkwardly walked up to his podium.  

You might have been madly (and miserablely) in love with your best friend, but Kim Namjoon has never failed to make you feel like a silly teenager with a crush on her older teacher. To say Kim Namjoon was intimidating was an misunderstanding. His presence was thoroughly electrifying. You remembered a very disappointed sigh the girl sitting next you let out when she noticed a ring on his right hand. You couldn’t judge her. His wife had scored probably the finest man on this damn planet.  

“I read your latest assignment and I must say, your novelette was outstanding as always. Dare I say the best among others,” Namjoon said. You bowed your head in acknowledgement, praying he wouldn’t notice your rose-colored cheeks. “Regarding that, I actually have a proposition for you.”  

At that, your eyes widened. “What kind of proposition, sir?” you asked.  

He picked up a sheet of paper from his desk and handed it to you. It was a flyer, you realised, and read it through quickly. VARIETÉ Publishing was organising an annual contest for young poets, which you had heard about before. Your English Literature proffesor mentioned it during her lecture a week ago. However, poetry had never been your strong suit. As much as you enjoyed reading it, you weren’t really fond of creating your own poems. So why did Kim Namjoon decide to tell you about this all of a sudden?

“I know what you might be thinking right now, but I’m not actually encouraging you to take part in this competition,” As he smiled, two dimples appeared on each side of his mouth. “Do you know anything about VARIETÉ Publishing?”  

Slightly confused, you gave him a nod. “It’s one if the biggest publishing companies in the country.” 

“That’s very much true,” Namjoon agreed. “VARIETÉ's vice-chairman, Lee Jongi, is actually my old friend. We used to study together here, at this university. When I chose a teaching career, he got a job in a foreign publishing company, climbed up the ladder until the very top and now he’s vice-chairman and I’m a simple college professor,” He chuckled. You were too stunned to form a coherent response let alone laugh along with him. Lee Jongi and Kim Namjoon being buddies? It was a small world, after all. “Jongi has always been very fond of young, aspiring writers. When I discover a student with huge potential, I send him their works. If he finds them interesting enough, he might even take a risk and propose a publishing deal. This doesn’t happen quite often, but I want you to know that you have a pretty big chance to impress him.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed because holy fucking shit, did he just say he can help you publish your first book?  

“I don’t know what to say, sir. I’m shocked.” you responded truthfully. You had heard people complimenting your skills before but this was extraordinary. “Let me just process all of this: you know personally VARIETÉ'S vice-chairman and you want to show him my works?” Even said out loud, it still sounded surreal to you.  

“Correct. But of course, I won’t do anything without your consent.” Namjoon said. “That novelette you sent me recently was amazing. I’d love to show it to Lee Jongi one day.”

The task was to incorporate a hidden, symbolic message into a story. You decided to use your favorite flowers, magnolias, and its meaning. They represent eternity, because once they bloom they will continue to bloom for a long time. In your story, a girl gave her best friend magnolia's seeds, wishing her love for him to be everlasting. A day later, she received a pack of seeds from the boy as well. She happily planted them in her garden and when they bloomed, she discovered they were yellow tulips. A symbol of love that will never be reciprocated.

“You make people feel things with your words, ___, and that’s a very rare gift,” You heard Namjoon add. “Promise me you’ll consider my proposition.”  

There was thousand thoughts per hour running in your head, but you gave him a curt nod. “I’ll think about it.”  

As you’re staring now at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, you think about the girl whose only dream was to be loved by her best friend. Maybe it’s finally time for you to move on. Bury the past and plant a seed of new life. Because, loving Jeon Jungkook is, above all, the beginning of an end.

With shaky hands, you start writing a response to your proffesor.

[verymuchimmortalcat]

Maribat March Day 11: Mominette and Day 17: Court of Owls

ao3

part 2

@maribatmarch-2k21 

Marinette was frantically running around her apartment, trying to find Dick. She had been talking on the phone to Alya and when she had finished, she couldn’t find him anywhere. There weren’t those many places he could’ve gone; it was a three-bedroom apartment with one of the rooms being converted into a studio for her to use. She had already checked both of their rooms and was headed to the studio. Thankfully, she found Dick there. Not so thankfully, he had somehow managed to climb onto the hanging lights from the ceiling and was clinging to them like a lifeline.

He must have had a nightmare. He preferred heights when she was not there. A remnant from his circus days. She called out to him and he immediately flipped out of his spot and into her arms. Marinette hugged her son close and kissed the top of his head, relieved that he was safe. Dick wrapped his arms around her. Carrying him out of the studio, she took him to his room and tucked him into bed. Amber eyes stared at her as she sat down next to him.

“You worried me mon oiseau, I thought something had happened to you.”

“Busy.”

“I don’t mind if you disturb me when I’m busy, you’re more important.”

He smiled back sleepily, eyes slowly closing and he drifts off. Marinette, slowly walks out of the room and shuts the door softly.

.oOo.

Adrien knocks on Marinette’s door expecting her to open it. Instead, he’s met with a boy who looks to be around the age of ten with black hair, yellow eyes and pale skin that has black veins standing out. They stare at each other when Marinette comes running to the door, saying, “Dick, what did I tell you about opening the door for people you don’t know.” She clearly hasn’t noticed his arrival. The kid, did she say Dick? Points to him and says, “He’s in the pictures.”

Marinette finally realises its him and him and smiles. She grabs him by the hand and drags him into the apartment closing the door behind her. The boy following her.  Grabbing a book and pencil she hands it to the boy, “Why don’t you practice writing, Me and Adrien will be in the living room, you can sit with us.

The boy nods and takes the book from Marinette and plops himself onto the carpet on the living room floor. Sitting on the couch, Marinette sighs, “I have a lot to explain, don’t I?”

Adrien nods. Still in too much shock to give a coherent answer.

Marinette in true Marinette fashion begins to ramble, “So, there’s this organisation called the Court of Owls, and they sort of create these minions of sorts to do their biddings. They call them Talons. After the death of his parents Dick was made into one, and he was sent to retrieve the Miraculous-“

Adrien laughs and incredulously says “And then you adopted him and named him Dick?”

“I didn’t name him that,” she protests, “I might’ve gotten Max to hack into the Court of Owls database and then he did some extra research and found out his identity. His name is Richard John Grayson, son of two trapeze artists who fell to their death. He’s Romani, I don’t think they were worried about insults in slang when they nicknamed him.”

Adrien gaped at her. Registering her words, he puts on an affronted look, “You told Max about your son before you told me?” He regrets it almost instantly when Marinette looks panicked and starts to explain things. Cutting her off, he puts his hands on her shoulders, “I was just kidding, you’ve probably had a lot to handle. I understand that.”

Marinette smiles back, her tense posture relaxing, she turns to look at Dick with a soft smile on her face “He’s a sweetheart. Gives me the occasional heart attack but is otherwise wonderful.”

“I’m surprised your parents haven’t spoiled him already.”

Her smile drops and she says, the horror in her tone obvious, “oh no, that’s who else I was supposed to tell.”

Adrien just laughs

.oOo.

Telling her parents went surprisingly well. They were however coerced into weekly visits so that her parents could spend more time with their grandson.

As it turned out Dick was utterly hopeless in the kitchen. Her father was determined to make a baker out of him. He enjoyed it though. Loved spending time with his grandparents and looked forward to their weekly visits.

Hopeless as he might be in the kitchen, he enjoyed eating the sweets that were made. Adrien had been right, her parents enjoyed spoiling him. He knew it too. But as far as Marinette was concerned he was a little angel and being coddled weekly once wouldn't really affect him.

The Bakery as it turned out also had more places for Dick to climb on. The look on her parents faces the first time he had climbed onto the light fixtures had been priceless.

.oOo.

Marinette was in her studio when she heard the sound of glass breaking from the living room. Dick was in the living room. Heart racing Marinette ran to the living room to find her son on the floor, among shards of broken glass. He was bleeding. Picking him up gently, Marinette took him to the kitchen and set him on the counter, Tikki appeared next her holding out tweezers so she could remove the glass from his skin before his skin closed over.

Marinette was suddenly thankful he couldn’t feel pain. If he had been crying Marinette would probably have freaked out and lost her cool. Removing the glass pieces, she cleaned the wounds and bandaged them, they would probably be fine by tomorrow but Marinette wasn’t taking risks.

Carrying him to her room, she put him in her bed. Leaving him to change, she comes back and gets into bed, hugging her little bird close, he doesn’t protest to the touch just snuggles in closer. Marinette makes up her mind to take him for gymnastics classes so he doesn’t break more of her lights.

.oOo.

She finds classes for him soon enough. Her parents help her look. Of course, going out would mean that Dick would have to wear contacts and makeup but they manage. He gets along well with the other children. Marinette goes to every single one of his classes. She knows the other parents there judge her but if it means Dick’s happy Marinette can ignore them. It’s the least of her worries.

Dick’s first competition is a month after he joins, being allowed to compete only because he advanced really fast. And Marinette cheers the loudest among all her friends gathered to watch her son. Full of motherly pride as she watches him fly through the air.

[misssophiachase]

Sparks Fly

Happy Birthday Nat @recyclingss​ I hope you have had a lovely day (and LOTS and LOTS of cake) and enjoy this little gift. 

Caroline Forbes has just started Med School. She’s determined to work hard and not be distracted by anyone or anything. Looks like fate, and an administrative error, has other plans.

Sparks Fly

Caroline Forbes had a mantra when she started college - work hard and with absolutely no distractions. 

She promised herself that after her admission to med school she wouldn’t squander her opportunities. She was going to be Dr Caroline Elizabeth Forbes and no one and nothing would interfere with that goal.

All was going well - well, until it wasn’t.  

Stanford was beautiful this time of the day, the looming sunset only accentuating the richly coloured array of autumn leaves as they crunched underfoot. 

It was a Friday, she remembered because that coming Monday was Labor Day, meaning no classes for three whole days. Most people had either left for the long weekend or were planning to attend the multitude of back to college parties on campus. 

She’d been invited, of course, but turned down each one. No distractions and all that. 

Also, Caroline had already planned her extended weekend down to the last minute. Although the semester had only commenced two weeks earlier she decided some revision would give her the extra reinforcement needed when classes resumed. 

As she made her way through the empty corridors, Caroline realised just how subdued her usually busy dorm was and secretly glad for the peace and quiet it would afford her to study. 

It was only when she approached her door that Caroline realised that peace and quiet might not be coming so soon. Her door was slightly ajar and Caroline knew she hadn’t left it that way. Then she heard it, some singing albeit off-key. What burglar had time to sing while he stole her prized possessions?

Caroline rifled through her purse madly hoping the can of hairspray she discovered would be as effective as mace or at least look it. She also made a mental note to buy some mace next time she was at the store because that’s the kind of person she was, always organised even in a crisis. 

She nudged the door open slowly only to find her burglar had also found time to undress and was half naked bar the white towel hanging low on his toned hips. He might have not been able to sing but the man could wear a towel. 

His back was to the door which was probably a good thing given Caroline was trying to form some coherent words in a sequence that hopefully made sense. She realised after a beat that any words would have to do. 

Clearly her thinking was louder than she envisioned given he turned around curiously.

“I am armed and not afraid to…”

“Tame my thatch of wild curls with your hair spray?” He sounded like Mr Darcy, that much she could tell. 

“How did you...”

“I saw your reflection in the window,” he explained, gesturing to the glass. “Next time you want to surprise someone I suggest less hesitation and more action, love.”

“Don’t call me that,” she huffed, realising that wasn’t her most pressing concern. “Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”

“Excuse me, this is my room.” A likely story given their dorms weren’t the coed kind. 

“Well, last time I checked I am a woman and you are...so not one.”

“What gave it away?” He smirked, those totally non-attractive crimson lips tugging at the edges. 

“Don’t you have any clothes?”

“I have an entire suitcase, in fact I was unpacking when you stormed in hairspray in hand, sweetheart.”

“I mean clothes to wear, like right now,” she growled.  

“Why? Am I distracting you.” 

He just had to go and use the d word, the one thing she wasn’t supposed to be. Avoiding distraction was her number one aim and he was making that so much more difficult. 

Bastard.

“No, not at all,” she mumbled. “I just want you gone and if it means pushing you into the hallway half-dressed then that is totally on you.”

“Wow, you really aren’t the hospitable kind, are you?” He offered, his blue eyes clouding over momentarily telling her more than she wanted to know and causing other places to stir that hadn’t in a while. “In hindsight the Taylor Swift paraphernalia should have alerted me but this is clearly an administrative error nothing more.”

“So, you’ll leave then?”

“Not that you cared to ask about my wellbeing but I arrived late in term from the UK due to COVID delays. I did try to call the administration office earlier and no one answered. It is a long weekend so not completely unexpected.” 

“So, what exactly are you saying?” 

“I stay here for the next few days only. I promise I’ll be well behaved and I’ll even cover myself up appropriately so as not to distract you.”

“I never said that..” she lied. Klaus chose that moment to place a navy henley over his head, covering up exactly what she’d been trying to avoid but also ogle at the same time. 

“I will be out of your hair in a couple of days, I promise. In fact we never had to see each other ever again if that helps?”

Caroline wanted to think that it helped and she was pleased he was now fully covered. She was all about no distractions after all. 

“Fine,” she replied curtly, sitting on her bed. “I have some study to do so will be busy anyway.”

“What are you studying?”

“Medicine.”

“Looks like we have more in common than first thought,” he smiled, grabbing one of their text books and waving it in her direction. “I can help with studying if you like?”