#totally not projecting onto this loser

[just-jayy]

These pretty packages all lined up by my bed Make me feel less fucking bad Make me feel alive again I fill the cracks with anything that I can find I got bits of plastic stuck between my teeth and in my eyes

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

So um.

Projects my PE class experiences onto Chase.

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[nekropsii]

Do you have any thoughts on Equius

Equius is a fucked up kid who has done a lot wrong, but he is still a kid. He reads as a startlingly real portrayal of a pubescent autistic boy with an unhealthy and shaky grasp of his budding, overwhelming sexuality, with a concerning amount of influence from the internet. He is the result of adults failing him, and exposing him to hardcore fetish porn at an age too early. This is a real kind of guy that exists. A very common one, who I have met, like, at least 40 of.

Like Eridan, he feels like a kid stuck in a pipeline — except instead of the alt-right pipeline, it’s fetishism and hypersexuality. He feels like a pretty solid example of how getting involved in NSFW spaces online as a child can both deeply fuck up your sexuality and completely destroy your perception of what consent is, and what is and is not okay. He doesn’t have a grasp on boundaries whatsoever, and while this manifests in ways that are quite honestly horrifying and uncomfortable — like constantly projecting his Caste-Play BDSM fetishes onto nonconsenting, unsuspecting individuals, and… The things he did to Aradia — I cannot help but view him as an autistic boy having a rough time of puberty who got groomed through the internet over-exposing him to pornography at an early age. He’s deeply sympathetic to me from that angle. Again, I have met this kid. Homestuck is fantastic at presenting characters that are exact archetypes of real people you have known, be it personally or not. People you would have either been close friends with in middle school, or terrorized by in a random chat room on the internet. Maybe they were even you! There’s a complete nonzero chance someone is reading this who has played the role of Equius in their youth, who is totally fine and healthy now. And if that’s true, and this describes you… I’m proud of your growth!

Back to Analysis- His ardent Hemoloyalty is fascinating, also. I’ve written about this before, but there’s something compelling and very realistic about how his bigotry comes from a place of deep insecurity, rather than pride. I find bigotry coming from insecurity to be more common than it coming from overt pride. Many fictional bigots have such a genuine ego to them, a fine layer of paint labeled Badassery, when for the most part real life bigots are total losers with nothing better to do than worry about… Where someone was born, or how much melanin they have, or what’s in their pants, or whatever.

I get why people don’t tend to be fond of him, but the disquieting parts of his character are both very deliberate choices and also shockingly… Earnest, in a weird, Hussian fashion. I’ve never quite seen a character with his traits get portrayed before. He’s easy to work with, analytically speaking, you just have to be willing to stick your hands in the uncomfortable muck that is messy teenage sexuality. Many aren’t willing to, which is fair! But many also mislabel his uncomfortable traits as not intentionally uncomfortable, or simply a product of Hussie being weird and wrong and having bad opinions. This… Just blatantly isn’t the case. Sometimes fiction isn’t comfortable on purpose. Big whoop.

I think Equius could’ve been quite a fine person, had he been given the room to grow up. He’s like Jake to me in the sense that he’s one of the only characters I genuinely wouldn’t mind seeing expanded upon more, provided he be taken seriously, and not completely sanded down.

Alas.

[queers-gambit]

When The World Seems So Cruel

prompt: ( requested ) Billy knows something's bothering his girl, so, he follows his instincts and checks on her - family, friends, and slutty cheerleaders in bikinis be damned.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 5.1k+

warnings: cursing, smut 'cause why not, boys being assholes 'cause they're losers, misogyny, toxic / abusive / neglectful family, description of background violence, angst, did Cherry really write it if there wasn't a helluva lot of projection and need for revocation of internet access?

"Miss Cahill? I'm sorry to interrupt," you half-smiled at your math professor, "but I was just wondering if you still had my test? I never got mine back."

"Right," she cleared her throat, glancing around your body to see most of the class empty at that point. "I wanted to talk to you about that," she paused to pull out your test from a manilla folder. "I was very shocked to grade this under your name, honey, you're usually such a well-focused and high-achievin' student, I mean, you're on track for the Nat Scholarship! So, to see this... Was shockin', it's... Not your best work," she winced, handing the packet over.

You blinked in shock, frowning as anxiety mounted in your chest when you saw the glaring F in red marker. You mumbled in embarrassment, "I guess I've just been off my game..."

"Honey," Miss Cahill sighed in her light country accent, leaning on her desk with both fists so your eyes met hers, "I can always tell when one of my students is goin' through somethin' at home."

You froze, shaking your head, "No, no, it's not... It's not so bad."

"What's goin' on?"

You shrugged, "I've just been... Really tired," you decided on excusing, hoping beyond hope it was enough.

It wasn't, of course it wasn't. Miss Cahill just sighed and offered, "I can let you retake the test next week - but only after you go see the guidance counselor."

"Right... Um, yeah, okay, yeah, sounds good; um, thanks, Miss Cahill."

You made an escape, distracted by the third failing test you received this week; nearly barreling straight into a meaty, solid chest. "Woah, hey, no need to run 'round lookin' for the man of your dreams, I'm right here, doll," Billy teased, hands grabbing your upper arms to steady you. "What's got you inna rush, baby? You know I pick you up after this class."

You smiled in brief distraction, "Yeah, sorry, baby, I was just thinking about this essay coming up. Hi," you offered, stretching up on your toes to kiss him in greeting. "How're you?"

He half-smirked, "I'm good, you know Mr. Brunson's got a stick up his ass as usual."

"Mhm. As usual, and totally has nothing to do with you provoking him," you teased, latching onto his waist as you shoved your test deep in your shoulder-bag. You neared his locker, and you managed to choke out, "Hey, um... Y-You wanna get outta here?"

Billy offered you a look of mild confusion, smirking with a strange laugh, "You wanna ditch school?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"I'm just tired," you offered meekly, "I feel like I haven't slept in a week."

Billy lead you up to his locker, hand on your waist to keep you close as he mused, "This feels like a setup."

"It's not, I promise."

He yanked the metal door open, "Uh-huh. You told me when I met you that I'd have to practically kidnap you to get you to skip class. Huh? 'Member all that? All them lectures you gave me 'bout the importance of goin' t'class if I wanna do anything after this shithole?"

"Yeah, but things change, Bee."

Billy's face dropped, shoving his books into his open locker before turning, leaning his shoulder on the locker next to his, arms crossed as he stared at you. "What's wrong?" He questioned sharply.

"Billy, I'm just tired."

"No, it's something else. What's wrong? What's goin' on?"

You sighed, "You know what? It's okay, nevermind, I actually promised Eddie that I'd help him make those banners for SGA during lunch today, so," you glanced around, "I'm gonna go."

"Nah, baby, hol' up, I ain't mean - "

"I know, handsome," you promised softly, nodding as you reached for his waist to give a squeeze and keep him close. "I just forgot I told a friend I'd help them out, so, I'll just see you after, yeah?"

One hand rose to pet over your cheek, sighing, "You sure you're good? You don't look okay, sugar."

"I'm good," you nodded, deflating into his embrace and hearing him chuckle. "I'm just stretched thin this week, probably shouldn't make promises to my delinquent friends with all the college drama to worry about."

"What'd Munson do this time to only get banner-duty? Huh?"

"Probably got caught skipping or something," you mumbled against his pectoral; inhaling the scent of his mall-bought cologne and finding it a refreshing change from the CVS-brand he used when you first met. "School did something right by makin' everyone in detention serve the SGA for all their shit."

"Definitely got me to shape up," he joked, pecking the top of your head before finishing, "but I mostly missed out on time with you."

"Hey... I was thinking, maybe I can come over this weekend? Keep Max company, maybe keep Neil at bay? Can have a sleepover, too, if you want."

Now Billy's head cocked and his expression hardened, "The fuck you wanna come over for? You know how tense shit gets - "

"Billy."

"Nah, you're not makin' sense, pretty girl," he snapped, pulling back to stare down at you. "What's going on with you? You don't wanna be at home or something? The fuck's goin' on that's so bad you'd rather be at my place?"

You felt tongue tied, but the bell rang shrilly and literally saved you from needing to answer. "Shit, I gotta run, baby. I'll find you later, okay?" You promised, lifting onto your toes to kiss him, promising, "I love you."

He frowned, grumbling, "Yeah, love you, too." He watched you vacate the hall, his mind basically going blank to all other thought beside you. The entire lunch period, he sat on the hood of his car, chain smoking, wondering where he went wrong; what he did to upset you; what could be going on and most importantly, why you couldn't say anything to him about it.

However, after lunch, Billy found you in the library's designated SGA room and thought you appeared ten times as relaxed, laughing with Eddie Munson. When the punk caught Billy's eye, he nodded in respect; gesturing for you to look, and your head turned with a smile. You parted from Eddie and trotted up to Billy, feeling relieved when he grabbed you in a possessive hold; searing his lips to yours.

"Hi," you giggled.

"You seem happy."

"Kinda hard to be in a bad mood around Eddie."

"I can see," he lead you away. He wanted to bring back up about whatever was bothering you, but didn't; fearing ruining your joyful mood. Instead, his fingers just tangled with yours and you entered history together.

What should've been a decently peaceful class turned into a state of confusion for you and Billy when the intercom kicked on, the front office asking for your presence with the principal. Billy glared at the speaker box as you cast him a look of doubt, both confused by the summons; being all too used to them calling his name instead. All of history passed miserably; Billy alone without his favorite person to keep him on track and becoming antsy the longer you were gone. When you didn't return by the end of class, he grabbed anything you left and begrudgingly went to the last two classes of the day.

When the final bell rang, Billy waited for you at his car for a solid 25 minutes with several cigarettes being burned, but when you still didn't show, he grew worried. So, he stored everything in his Camaro, not needing to worry about his sister because Max got a ride home with her new bestie, Jane, and her father, Jim Hopper, and stormed through the school. Anger radiated off his very being, nearly stomping his steps, and just before he got to the front lobby, he saw you exiting the office.

You didn't notice him at first, and for a moment, Billy thought you were going to hurl whatever was on your stomach as you held a few pieces of paper in shaking hands. "Baby," he called your attention, finding your eyes light up at the sight of him. "The hell's goin' on? You were gone the rest of the day, I got worried."

"Yeah, it was some shit wrong with my college applications, but we got it straightened out," you lied, stepping into his embrace. "I'm sorry I worried you, handsome."

He met your lips in a kiss, promising, "Not your fault. C'mon, day's over, our weekend can start once we get the hell outta here."

"Hmm," you hummed dreamily. "Lemme go to my locker and we can get gone."

Billy didn't mind waiting, and when you were done at your locker, he escorted you to his car; only a few students still lingering after hours. He opened your passenger door, winking at you, then quickly jogged to his side and slid in. "C'mere," he breathed, reaching for your cheek instantly; hand sliding along the back of your neck and bringing you in close.

You moaned when Billy's lips molded to yours; all but instantly salivating when his tongue tangled with your own in a messy dance. You had a few rules about PDA, especially in school; but being in his car was neural territory and Billy needed a way to expel his neediness. Praising God for making today steadily warm and that you wore a skirt, you were ready to cry when Billy's hand came down to grip the meat of your thigh.

"Billy," you rushed when his hand traveled under your skirt to ghost over your panties.

"Nobody's here t'watch," he smirked. "C'mon, lemme do this for you, pretty girl. You don't wanna go home yet, right? Ain't got some curfew?"

"Nope," you surged forward to slam your lips to his, moaning when his hand now confidently pet your panties as your legs spread all the wider to encourage him.

"Good girl," he praised quickly, skimming the apex of your thigh to hook your panties and pull them to the side. "Mhm," he hummed with a cocky smirk, "I knew you liked getting fucked in public. Feel how fuckin' wet you are - shit, Goddamn."

You mewled; tension mounting as you tightened up from the stoking pleasure. "Billy - " You gasped when he plunged his fingers into your cunt, easily sliding in due to your arousal. "Ohhh, fuck," you breathed, eyes shut and mouth agape in pleasure, "needed this - needed this so bad. Just needed you."

"You'll get so much more, baby."

You whimpered, "Now, please. Please, please, please."

He smirked, "Wanna get in the back or ride me, princess? Huh? Tell me what you need."

Your eyes locked with his as you thought it over, but then, you smirked as you readjust the passenger seat and turned so your ass was propped up. It gave him a full view of your messy cunt; panties askew from his previous motions and fluid rubbed all around. Billy reached out with one hand to plunge his pointer and middle finger back into your core, the other wrangling open his belt, button, and jean zipper in frantic movements.

He shimmied from the garments and sat up, following your lead in adjusting his seat. He instantly mounted behind you over the center console, licking his palm and stroking his himself to life as he drug his cockhead up and down your wetness.

Billy reached out to move your panties once more, line himself up, and plunge full-hilt. You gasped and grunted, letting yourself be shoved forward a little to catch on the seat; Billy hissing between his teeth as your warmth enveloped him in a sticky-wetness. "Hang on, doll, ah, fuck, there we go," he chuckled, readjusting his position before starting to move his hips to create the most delicious friction.

"Fuuuuck, Billy!" You whined when he held both your hips with only one hand keeping your panties to the side.

"Needed this, too," he chuckled. "Good girl, fuckin' taking me so well. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you? Fuck you however I want to, huh? Yeah," he lifted one hand to smack the meat of your bottom, creating a ripple; liking the way you twitched and delivered two more, finishing, "I know my pretty baby would let me do whatever I fucking wanted with her - " he clenched his teeth, hips punctuating his words, "'cause she was fuckin' made for me."

"Yes," you moaned, mind blank from all the previous drama of your day; ready to weep like a bitch in heat, "anything, baby, yes, yes, yes, anything you want."

"Good girl," he laughed ruefully; picking up the pace to fuck you outta your mind as he ensured you felt every throbbing vein of his engorged cock. He chased his own orgasm as you were charged with your own; hand reaching for your clit to start applying pressure in tight circles. "Let me cum in you, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, tell me I can cum in you - in this pretty pussy - in my pretty pussy - lemme fuckin' cum in you."

"Billy, fuck - yes, baby, yes! Yes, harder, please, fuck me harder and you can cum wherever you want."

"Even your ass?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes, anything you want! Fuck my ass full of your cum, please, fuck, I need it! Whatever you want, I need. Please!"

Billy's golden curls stuck to his forehead and neck, entire car rocking with frantic, animalistic movements - but anyone lingering around the school to see it wasn't surprised. Billy felt like he went faster than usual, that he got a little rougher; but he was nearing his end and it was hard to keep pace. When you cried out and legs shook from your flash-bang of an orgasm, he knew you had finished and could focus on his own; never pulling out.

He'd fuck your ass later.

"Fuck!" Billy came with a shout; shooting hot, salty, opaque white ropes of cum into your quivering cunt. He stuttered his hips into the meat of your ass, balls contracting; emptying himself inside you as you relished in the feeling of his warmth flooding your lower belly. He chuckled, mocking, "Might just have to get you off that pill so I can get you fucking pregnant already."

"Whatever Daddy wants."

Billy laughed as he pulled out of you slowly, instantly turning again to crash into his driver seat. You went a little limp but managed to turn over, both panting as the windows were fogged up; but aired out when Billy rolled two down to light up his cigarette. "So," he spoke through his inhale and deep breaths, "you wanna tell me whats wrong now?"

"Hmm?"

"Why're you so distracted? Distant? Even with me?"

You felt panicked by the confrontation, resorting to your last line of defense. "Just dealing with a lot," you answered as your legs spread as wide as you could to start toying with your beaten-pussy. He watched with a stoic expression as you used your fingers to stuff his dripping-cum back inside you. "'S been stressful, guess I just had a bad day," you whined lightly, still playing.

"Fuck's sake."

"Hmm?" You feigned innocence.

"You're just askin' for it, huh?"

"Maybe," you pouted, "or maybe I just need your cum - "

"Cut it out, we gotta go," he snickered, turning the key in the ignition. "Your dad hates me enough, can't have you late for family dinner."

You went quiet as your thoughts were plagued with a screaming voice that begged Billy to just read your mind and understand what was wrong - why you were so upset, so panicked. But you knew better. So, you flipped down your skirt and readjusted yourself, sucking your fingers of his cum before letting his hand tangle with one of yours on your lap.

"Maybe you'd wanna come over tonight?" You asked softly. "Go see a movie or something?"

"You never wanna go out on Friday nights," he chuckled, but something felt terribly wrong about the notion. "You do homework and study on Friday and Sunday nights, you said it was a relationship rule, huh?"

"Things can change," you pouted.

"I told Tommy and Ryan I'd hang with them and the guys tonight," Billy spoke slowly. "But I can cancel if you - "

"No, no, don't," you shook your head, "go see your friends. 'Cause I'll see you in the morning, right?"

"Right."

"And I can stay the night... Right?"

Billy nodded, "Anytime you want, baby, yeah."

"Okay, cool," you spoke softly, deflating in his seat when he pulled up to your house. "Um..." You stared up at the home as if it were haunted. "Do you wanna come in for a little?"

His head tilted and brows furrowed, "I have to pick up Max from Hopper's, remember?"

"Right!" You gaped, but didn't move.

"What's wrong?" He asked with a hardened tone, making you gulp lightly. "You don't wanna go in?"

"I could, like, just go with you?"

"Baby, the fuck's going on? Know I hate repeating myself and shit, so just fucking tell me - maybe I can fucking help."

"Nothing, no, it's just, it's nothing, I'm sorry, I just - I'm sorry," you chuckled. "Guess I'm PMSing and feel clingy or something."

He only hummed as you leaned over to kiss him in parting. Both promised you love each other before you got out, jogging up the driveway and opening the front door; pausing to wave at him and then disappear in the house.

"Yo, dickhead! Hey! Grab me a beer!" Tommy Hagan called to Ryan Sheen as he went to rummage in his uncle's basement fridge. "And grab Billy one, too!"

"Nah, I'm good," Billy refused, glancing at the can in his hand. It was still half-full. He didn't feel like drinking after having time to sit and think about your behavior the past few days, worrying about you more than he wanted to get drunk.

"What?" Tommy laughed obnoxiously, smacking his teeth after. "You don't want a second? What's wrong with you, got some test you gotta study for?" He laughed at his own joke. In Tommy H.'s mind, only fucking losers study on Friday nights.

"Nah," Billy eased, setting his can down as he felt his irritation flare. He was annoyed at Tommy, sure, but also by the idea that something was wrong with you and you didn't trust him enough to say anything. "I actually gotta go, you guys," Billy stood.

"What?" Now Ryan scoffed, slapping a can of beer to Tommy's open hand. "You're not serious, dude! We've only been here, fuckin' what? Half an hour, bro!" He sucked his teeth in annoyance, rolling his eyes, "C'mon, we were going to Alicia's pool party tonight - you're supposed to give us a ride! The fuck's more important than the slutty cheerleaders in bikinis?"

"That Maria chick's been all over you, too," Tommy laughed. "You can't tell us a single thing that's better than Maria Thomas, all soaped up, in that tiny bikini she wore for the car wash. It's all our wet dreams come to life, Billy, you can't seriously consider missing that!"

"Not everybody's desperate to see Maria's tit-job. You know what? Whatever, man, I gotta go see my girl," he tugged his jean jacket on, tugging his blonde curls out of the collar.

Ryan rolled his eyes as Tommy laughed, "No way. Nuh-uh. You're seriously going to fuckin' ditchin' us for that chick?"

"Man, fuck you, guys, I'm ditching your dumbasses for my girl," Billy snapped. "Better what your fucking mouths and how you talk about her."

"Whatever, man. You're just whipped."

"She got you on some leash or some shit? Got you on a curfew like she's your mommy?" Ryan rolled his eyes, groaning, "Seriously, dude, we only see you at practice now!"

"Look, I just know something's up with her, so, I gotta check on - "

"So, what!? She ain't even tell you why she's pissed off? C'mon, man, that is such a stupid fuckin' tactic chicks use to get guys to go crawling back to their spoiled asses! Bitches do the pettiest shit to get us to suck up to them and shit."

Billy turned and easily caught Tommy by the collar of his shirt before he could even let go of his beer can, slamming the loudmouth into the wall as the aluminum can clattered. Ryan and the two other irrelevant guys left in the basement could only freeze, knowing Billy Hargrove's aggression and not wanting to become part of the receiving end.

"I told you to watch your fucking mouth," Billy seethed.

"Fuck offuva me!" Ryan pushed Billy's arms off. "She's just some bitch, bro, you've already fucked most of the school - what's so different with her?"

Billy scoffed, nodding in amusement as he backed off a few steps. "You know? If I wanna go hang with my girl instead of you deadbeat dickheads, 's exactly what I'm gonna do. Not my fault y'all ain't shit and don't know what it means to keep a chick happy."

"Fuck off, Billy! You're so fucking pussy whipped!" Tommy barked. "Ditching us for that crybaby! Dude, it's not even real! She didn't even tell you whatever she's all upset about! You just had a feeling, so, just sit the fuck down, finish your drink, down a fuckin' second beer, and then let's go to the party! See some bitches that are actually worth seeing!"

Billy shook his head, "I ever hear y'all talkin' about my girl like this again," he chuckled dryly, "might be the last time y'all can even form words. Fuck yourselves," he sneered.

Billy didn't hesitate to storm out of the room, ignoring their jeers and sneers about him being "pussy whipped" and all their complaints about him skipping out on being their ride to "the hottest party of the year." The door slammed behind him, rattling a few windows; making a beeline for his Camaro and pausing at the trunk. He found a pair of your sports shoes you'd eventually need, grabbed them in a white-knuckle grip, then got in the driver's seat and peeled away.

When Billy got to your house, he noticed the lights in your bedroom were barely turned on; knowing you didn't like overhead lighting and probably had a string of lights plugged in. On the contrary, the rest of the house seemed wide awake - every single downstairs light turned on. He grabbed your shoes and his school books (left in his backseat) and got out of his parked car, approach the front door, and paused when a barrage of voices suddenly met his ears. He froze.

The screams were full of hate, and while he couldn't make out distinct words, he heard both your mother and father's elevated voices. It was relentless, it was full of anger and hate and confusion and accusations and Billy wasn't sure how long he stood there with his fist raised. With a deep breath, Billy finally knocked at the door... Then again... Then again... And again, using the metal knocker to bang rapidly. He heard the voices lower and stopped knocking; taking a step back, then waited with his best look of indifferent innocence.

When the door ripped open, Billy was greeted by your angry-looking mother, who didn't look at who was at the door when she snarled, "What the fuck do you want!?"

"Uh, yeah, um, hi, ma'am..." Billy waved awkwardly.

"Oh, Billy," she gasped. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize it was you, sweetie. What's wrong? What - What time - ? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry to interrupt so late, but nothing is wrong," he assured. "I just know your daughter's a little forgetful when there's a test comin' up," he chuckled, holding up the shoes and his books, "and she promised to help me nail this essay for my college portfolio... Did I use that correctly? Portfolio? She's always tryna broaden my vocabulary," he chuckled smoothly.

She smiled warmly, another victim to his charming influence, "Sure, honey, yes, of course, it's Friday or something, right, of course you can come in. C'mon, c'mon in." She stepped out the way to let Billy enter into the foyer. "Baby Girl's just upstairs in her room," she gestured with a wine glass Billy just noticed towards the staircase as she used your childhood nickname. They paused at the grand bannister, her eyes rolling when there came the muffled pounding of a bass-line from some song turned up to the max. "She's always blasting her music now adays, it'll make her deaf," your mother scoffed, taking a long sip, then waved him up. "Go on, get up there, good luck on your essay."

"Thank you, Miss Lady," he purred with a small smirk; nodding as he then watched her retreat to the sitting room, and barely a moment later, your father was exiting the kitchen.

"Billy," he greeted stiffly, glass of scotch in hand.

"Sir," Billy replied with a nod of respect, stepping out of his shoes (per household rules) to leave your parents at the front of the house's sitting room; beginning his ascent to the second level. He'd been there before, so, locating your room was like muscle memory; knocking when he approached the door and pausing when he only heard blaring music.

Another knock, no answer. So Billy opened your door.

You were sat on the ground, back against your bed, record player spinning, and the window you faced cracked open to waft the cigarette smoke out. His heart clenched when he saw you, your sadness nearly tangible as light made your tear-tracks on your cheeks glitter. "Baby," Billy spoke softly, watching you jump in shock. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I tried to knock."

You nodded absently, "Music's on."

"Yeah, 's a good song," he allotted as he shut your door securely and asked, "want it locked?"

"Doesn't lock," you answered robotically, looking back out the window.

"Can I turn the music down, baby, please? Real hard t'hear you."

You nodded and he lowered the volume - but when he did, he understood why you had it so high. Your parents could be heard arguing downstairs, and even with an entire floor between you, it was still loud. So, he turned the music up just a little, frowned, and moved beside you, grunting lightly as his tight jeans constricted while he sat.

"Can I?" He asked, pointing at the cigarette. You handed it over mutely, your usual quip of "it's may I, not can I," nowhere to be heard. After two puffs, he meant to hand it back, but instead, you just fell into his side as if all energy you had to keep you up was depleted; a nearly drowned-out whimper emitting. Billy saw the coffee mug you had been using as an ashtray and dropped the cigarette instantly, using both arms to tug you into his lap.

Billy held you in a fetal position, gently and slowly squeezing you into his chest as he needed to feel you close; and you evidently needed to feel physical love. Billy had to gulp harshly when he felt your tears soak his shirt first, then the jerking of your shoulders; quivering of your body. This long week had finally caught up.

"Baby," he sighed, kissing your forehead. And instead of asking the idiotic and repetitive 'are you okay?', Billy instead just asked in a hush, "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

Through your tears, you answered in a hiccuping-hush, "I didn't want it to be real."

Billy just sighed again, pulling you in tighter so you set under his chin. He let you simply rest, he just wanted to feel close to you... But something caught his eye. About three feet from you was your slumped, turned-over backpack; spewing contents as if it had been tossed aside in a fit of rage. What was interesting, though, was the crumpled pieces of paper; at least one sporting a huge, uppercase F circled in red marker.

"Yeah?" He whispered, sighing as he wanted to bite his tongue but couldn't. "Seems real enough to fuck up your grades though, huh?"

"I can retake the tests."

"You're gonna have to study."

"I know... 'S kinda hard to study here, though. Can't really focus on anything when all that's, you know, going on."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You snorted through your tears, "Don't make me laugh, I'm sad."

He smirked, "Yeah, yeah, all right. Listen, I'll just... We'll go to the library for tonight, and after, we can go to my place. How's that?"

"Thought you weren't allowed overnight visitors?"

"I'm not, but sneakin' inna my place can't be worse than tryna focus while here, right? Gotta be better than listening to this shit."

You nodded against his neck as a distant glass shattered, making you relent, "Touché."

"C'mon," he decided, kissing your forehead again, "pack a bag, baby. You're comin' with me - don't gotta stay here. Not tonight. Gonna come stay with me."

You pulled back just enough to ask, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, pretty girl," he smirked, caressing your cheek. "Might even let you do that green face goop thing you love bothering me about."

"It's an avocado face mask, and when your skin is literally glowing, you can thank me then."

Billy grinned down at you, taking the moment to swoop down and connect your lips in a long kiss; breathing each other in. When a second shatter sounded from downstairs, you flinched away, but Billy was quick to hush, "Hey, hey, hey," and when your eyes met his, he assured, "you're safe with me. Always safe with me." You nodded, tears shining in your eyes. "And you don't ever have to hide these parts of you - not from me. Never from me. I love you, pretty girl," he whispered, "and all parts that make you exactly who you are. Family included."

"I don't deserve you," you whispered.

"Nah, what you don't deserve is dealing with this shit. So, c'mon, get a bag together. We'll come back for what you need later, but get something together for the weekend."

You thanked him with a kiss, and while you got your things together, Billy mutely reached out to examine the pages in his grasp. He sighed, noting the three different failing tests and knew he had to "step up" his "boyfriend game" if he truly wanted to help you; and for the first time, he knew, without any selfish motives, he honestly did. He figured, for all you've done for him, providing you with something akin to a safe environment was a drop in the bucket; shoving those tests back into your school bag, standing, and helping you gather the last of your necessities.

Who needed slutty cheerleaders in soaped-up bikinis when this, right here, was what true love was? Shockingly, not Billy Hargrove.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[strawb3rrystar]

AGH YOU CAN DO THEN WHENEVER UR NOT BUSY!!!

can i get a platonic Angel x Fem! sinner where she was a loser in her life (no bitches, no money, no game etc. etc.) and feels so awkward about having not done anything further than holding hands (kissing a partner or even sex)

so she runs to angel and confides in him and he is like “lol pookie thats an easy fix” and smooches her (i am a firm believer in platonic kissing with consent but u can remove that) and tells her that she doesnt need to rush to do those things, esp if its her first time? he could also prop her to pay him for the kiss (about 200 dollars kekw)

(totally isnt self projecting kekw)

Better dead than never.

Pairing: Angel Dust x Fem! Sinner! Reader

Warnings: Platonic kisses, Reader is implied to have sold their soul

Word count: 486

✰Masterlist

You were a loser in your life. That much you knew. Constantly being bullied your whole childhood. Never being able to get more than a first date. Having no money to your name. Dying alone and cold in an alleyway behind a bar. That was your existence. A lonely one.

You don't know what you did exactly to get into Hell, but here you were anyway. Might as well make the most of it, huh?

One day, while polishing the banisters of the hotel, you were thinking about your life before death. How you were unhappy, so you drowned yourself in alcohol. You realize that you had never had your first kiss. Even in death you hadn't kissed anyone yet. So you went to the one sinner you knew had lots of experience. Angel Dust.

You walk into his room without knocking, walking in on him combing the fur on his chest. You walk up next to him and tap on his shoulder, making him jump and throw the comb at you. He calms down when he realizes it's just you. "Jeez toots. Don't sneak up on me like that."

You mumble out an apology, but he reassures you it's okay. "So, you gonna tell me why you snuck into my room?"

"I've never had my first kiss." You reply. Angel raises an eyebrow. Why did you need his help with that?

"So? It's not that big of a deal." He shrugs, turning back to look at himself in the mirror. You grab onto the robe he's wearing, shaking him a little. "It is a big deal, Angel!"

Angel's eyes are wide as you shake him. He grabs onto your hands and holds them in his. "Toots, calm down."

You take a deep breath, doing as he asked. "I wanted your advice."

Angel blinks in surprise for a few seconds. "On what?"

"How to get guys to notice me!" You raise your voice slightly. Your soulless black eyes stare into his, pleading for help.

"You don't need a guy, trust me." Angel rolls his eyes, then puts on a comforting look.

"Well.. I still want to have my first kiss." You sigh, shaking your head. You look away from Angel, but he grabs your jaw and turns you back. Before you have time to react his lips are on yours. It only lasts a second before he pulls away again, leaving you dumbfounded.

"There. No need to rush into things, toots." Angel gives your head a pat as you slowly blink. "I think it's better that you haven't done anything like that."

"Huh..? Why?" You question, slowly coming back to reality.

"It gives you a better chance of gettin' into heaven." He turns back to the mirror again.

"Really?" You cock your head to the side. Angel responds with a shrug, looking at you with a grin. "I don't know. Probably? Heavens fucked up like that."

Star's notes -> PLATONIC KISSES >>>>

(Thank you, @sweetadonisbutbetter for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @ghostdoodlen @idontreallyexistyet @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @cirrus-sampling-sanity @onyxxtheghost @sugarplumz100 @myamythos @hazbinhappy @samohxt2-0 @mollzaj @sunshines-bright @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @sweetadonisbutbetter @little-miss-chaoss | Join the taglist

[serenelystrange]

At AO3 or below the cut:

Three weeks before Thanksgiving, and Buck finally feels like life is getting back to normal. Chris has been home from Texas since school started, nobody at work has gotten impaled or otherwise grievously injured in months, and he has a sweet and funny boyfriend to come home to after rough days. He tells himself to appreciate it and stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

One week before Thanksgiving, and Buck realizes he really should have listened to his gut instincts to begin with. Tommy breaks up with him, more kindly than Buck has grown to expect from relationships, but hurtful nonetheless. He’s not even all the way home after that whole scene when his phone rings. Looking quickly, he frowns down at the name on the screen. Pulling over to the side of the road and flipping his hazard lights on, Buck answers the phone.

“Mom?”

“You don’t have to do this, Buck.”

Buck looks up at Eddie from where he’s packing a duffel bag with a week’s worth of clothes and sighs. Eddie’s leaning against Buck’s dresser, hands shoved into the pocket of his softest jeans and giving him an imploring look.

“He’s my dad,” Buck says, squinting as he tries to remember just how cold Pennsylvania is in November and if he needs another heavy sweater.

“Take the navy one Carla made you,” Eddie says, as if reading Buck’s mind. “It’s warm and has those big pockets you like.”

“Keeps my hands completely covered,” Buck mumbles. He removes the brown sweater and tosses it onto the bed, before grabbing the blue sweater from the closet and tucking it neatly in the bag.

“And more room for snacks,” Eddie agrees. “But you still don’t have to do this. Your parents have money, they can hire a caretaker.”

“They did,” Buck says, “but the guy can’t start until after Thanksgiving, and Maddie can’t leave Jee-Yun for a week, and she couldn’t lift him if needed anyway.”

“Still,” Eddie says stubbornly, scowling at the thought of the Buckleys. “It sucks that he broke his leg, but they don’t deserve your help.”

Buck shrugs silently, in that way he does that Eddie knows is disagreement that he doesn’t want to argue about.

“It’s only a week,” Buck says. “I’ll be back as soon as the aide shows up after Thanksgiving.”

“Ugh,” Eddie huffs, thinking about the holiday. “You’re gonna have to spend Thanksgiving with those two, and what, their snobby friends from the country club?”

“Please don’t remind me,” Buck groans. “It’s bad enough I have to be there at all, I don’t need their shitty homophobic friends cackling about the fact that I couldn’t keep a boyfriend any more than I could a girlfriend.”

“That is bad timing,” Eddie says mildly, instead of the blue streak of opinions he has on Tommy Kinard at the moment.

“I just,” Buck says, zipping up the bag before slumping down on to the bed and giving Eddie a tired look. “I just wanted one holiday with them where I didn’t look like a total loser.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being single,” Eddie says, gesturing to himself. “You don’t think I’m a loser, right?”

“Of course not,” Buck says immediately. “But I’m not my parents.”

“Damn right,” Eddie says, glaring as if daring Buck to argue. “You’re a fucking badass firefighter whether or not you have a stupid boyfriend. And even if you weren’t, you’re a genuinely good person who we all love. You don’t need their approval.”

“I know,” Buck says, face softening. “Thank you. But I..” he trails off, looking embarrassed, “I still want it. I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of that.”

Eddie nods in commiserative understanding, and takes a quick look at a text on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket.

“What would you think about,” Eddie asks, walking forward so that he’s standing in front of Buck, “and walk with me here.”

Buck just quirks an inquisitive eyebrow and waits.

“What if you showed up with a new boyfriend instead?” Eddie asks. “A fake one. A…well, a me?”

“What.” Buck says, stunned into losing his punctuation.

“I’m just saying,” Eddie explains, “your parents know me already, so it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch. People date their coworkers all the time. It’s not like we’d have to make-out in front of them or anything.”

“The are pretty prudish,” Buck agrees slowly, mulling it over. “It actually could work. And it would be great to have someone in my corner.”

“Two of us, two of them,” Eddie grins, “I like those odds.”

“It won’t be weird?” Buck asks, “I mean, you don’t even like men.”

“They don’t know that,” Eddie says, shrugging. “And why would it be weird? Chim calls us work-husbands all the time. We just lean into it for a while. It’d be even better if we could bring Chris.”

“Stupid school,” Buck says, pouting. “Wait, Chris. Whose going to watch Chris if you’re with me?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eddie laughs, Carla and Pepa have it all worked out, with the 118 as backup. He’ll be fine.”

“And Bobby just gave you a week off of work” Buck says, dubiously. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Uhh,” Eddie says, caught in his scheming. “Since you called me yesterday?”

“Eddie,” Buck sighs.

“Buck,” Eddie grins.

“You already have a plane ticket, don’t you?”

“Seat next to yours, Buckley. You really shouldn’t leave your phone unlocked all the time.”

“You know the code anyway,” Buck says, rolling his eyes.

“I know my own son’s birthday, yes,” Eddie teases. “Sap.”

“I changed my mind,” Buck huffs, “I’m going alone.”

“Nope,” Eddie says, reaching out to ruffle Buck’s messy curls. “You’re stuck with me now, boyfriend.”

Buck groans again, but doesn’t argue, and Eddie takes it as a win.

It’s not until they board the plane and get to their seats that Eddie realizes why Buck had insisted on checking them in while Eddie had used the restroom before the flight.

“Business class?” he asks, giving Buck an incredulous look. “I know we were in economy. Tell me you didn’t spend thousands of dollars to upgrade us for a six hour flight.”

“I did not,” Buck says, giving Eddie a crooked little smile. “My mother might have been talked into it by Maddie though. You know, as a thank you for flying all the way there to take care of dad.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your sister?” Eddie says, stretching out his legs in front of the seat comfortably. “Because I do.”

“She’s married,” Buck says, drolly. “There was a whole hospital wedding and everything.”

“Aw, pookie,” Eddie grins, “don’t be jealous. You’re still my favorite Buckley.”

“You’re so dumb,” Buck says, flushing pink. “And no, not even my fake boyfriend is allowed to call me pookie. I’m not a teacup yorkie.”

“Fine, fine,” Eddie relents. “How do you fly, anyway? Does turbulence freak you out, should I hold your hand?”

“You’re having too much fun with this,” Buck says, laughing and swatting at Eddie’s offered hand. “I’m not afraid of flying, don’t worry.”

“Just keeping spirits high before we get to Hell,” Eddie says lightly, and Buck’s entire chest warms with a pleased rush of affection for his idiot best friend.

Halfway through the flight, they’re woken up by rough bumping of turbulence, as flashes of lightning turn the windows of the plane white for a few very tense seconds.

Buck’s terrified grip very nearly crushes Eddie’s fingers, but he holds on.

When they finally make it to the Buckley home, Eddie is already regretting ever letting Buck get on the plane. He’s a ball of tension beside him, one hand gripped tightly around the strap of the duffel bag that’s slung over his shoulder, the other shoved deep in his pocket.

“We can still leave,” Eddie says gently, even as Buck rings the bell. “Whatever you need.”

Buck shakes his head once, and pulls his hand from his pocket, wordlessly taking Eddie’s free hand and linking their fingers together.

“Just need this,” he says, titling his head slightly as if requesting permission.

Eddie squeezes his hand comfortingly.

“Of course.”

The door opens then, revealing the pinched face of Margaret Buckley.

“Evan,” she says, coolly but perfectly polite. “I was wondering when you were going to get here, your flight landed hours ago.”

“My fault,” Eddie interrupts. “Turns out my original car rental reservation wasn’t available, so we had to wait around until we could get another one.”

Buck laughs quietly at the complete and utter lie. The Crosstrek they’d reserved was waiting for them as they got there. The panic attack Buck had in the passenger seat as they left the lot is what really delayed them.

“Very well,” Margaret says. “Come on in, it’s late.”

They follow her in, dutifully removing their shoes and putting them on the fancy rack by the door, before standing awkwardly in the foyer.

“The neighbors brought a bunch of food over,” Margaret says, still not looking either of them in the eyes. “If you’re hungry.”

“Thanks,” Buck says, politely.

“I had Desiree clean up and put fresh bedding down,” Margaret says, before pinning Eddie with a steely blue gaze. “You’ll be in Maddie’s old room, Buck is just across the hall.”

“Mom,” Buck sighs, before Eddie even has time to be offended. “I’m not making my boyfriend sleep in a separate room. We’re all adults here.”

Eddie cringes, knowing damn well he never would have argued with his parents about this.

“Fine,” Margaret says, with surprisingly little resistance. “Just make sure to… be respectful.”

“We won’t have sex in your house,” Buck says dryly, “scout’s honor.”

Eddie bites down on his cheek so hard to stop from laughing that he’s sure he’s drawn blood.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

Later, as they’re getting ready for bed, Buck looks up at Eddie with an apologetic grimace.

“I probably should have asked you about the bed thing,” he says. “I just really wanted to piss her off.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie waves off the apology. “You know I’m down to piss off your parents however we can. And this is a king size bed, we’ll have plenty of space.”

“They added it for guests when I moved away,” Buck says. “Not sure what happened to my old full size bed. Threw it out, I guess.”

“Well, fuck them,” Eddie says, resolutely. “But in this one case, I’m glad two six-foot men don’t have to share a full size bed.”

“Just say you don’t want to cuddle me,” Buck teases, “gosh.”

“Shut the fuck up and go to bed,” Eddie laughs, smacking Buck with one of the admittedly plush pillows.

Buck laughs again but crawls into the bed, stretching out his sore muscles in relief. He clicks off the lamp on the nightstand on his side of the bed, and lets his eyes adjust to the minimal moonlight coming in through the closed blinds.  

Beside him, Eddie’s breathing is already steadying as he falls asleep, and Buck lets it soothe him into darkness.

They’re woken up by insistent knocking before 8am the next morning, followed by Margaret opening the door and poking her head in without waiting for an answer.

“Your father needs help, Evan,” Margaret says, eyeing the barely awake men with irritation. “You can’t sleep all day.”

“Jesus, mom,” Buck groans, “It’s not even 5AM our time.”

Eddie says nothing, but props himself up on his elbows and very purposely leans his head against Buck’s arm, yawning widely.

“He has an appointment in an hour,” Margaret continues without acknowledging his response. “And he needs help getting down the stairs and into the car.”

“Ok, ok,” Buck says, sitting up fully and dislodging Eddie’s head with a murmured apology. “Give me ten minutes to shower and get changed.”

“Does Mr. Buckley need help washing up?” Eddie asks, easing up to sit beside Buck. He may hate the man, but he is still a medical professional.

Margaret considers him for a long moment, before nodding shortly.

“That would be appreciated,” she says, before turning around and walking off, leaving Buck’s door wide open.

“You don’t need to do that,” Buck says quietly. “I can help him myself, Maddie said he mostly just needs support to balance, and he’s a lot taller than mom.”

“We can’t risk him getting an infection and you being stuck here even longer,” Eddie says, just as quietly. “We can handle a few awkward shower-assists.”

Buck thanks him again and heads toward the bathroom, leaving Eddie watching his muscular bare back as he goes, not a single pure thought left in his head.

Buck supports his father’s weight with ease as Eddie makes sure the waterproof cast cover is secure around his thigh, and together they get him into the bathroom with minimal fuss.

“Oh, you have a shower chair,” Buck says. “Good. That will make this a lot easier for you. I’ll just help you get undressed and then you can just shout for us when you’re done, ok?”

Phillip nods, avoiding their eyes, and Eddie feels a regrettable wave of sympathy for the man.

“Hey,” he says. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, we all need help sometimes. Buck and I help people in much weirder situations all the time.”

Buck looks at him, a surprised but pleased smile on his face.

“Is it because it’s your son?” Eddie asks, gently. “Because I can help you and Buck can stand right outside in case we need him. I was a medic in the army, I can handle one broken leg.”

“A man shouldn’t have to see his father this weak,” Phillip confirms, gruffly.

“It’s good for sons to know their fathers are human,” Eddie says with a little shrug. “But maybe this first time, you’ll let me help at least?”

“Ok,” Phillip agrees, looking at Buck and then Eddie. “Thank you.”

“I’ll just be right outside,” Buck says, sharing a look with Eddie who just nods in reassurance.

“Thanks, babe,” Eddie says, just to make Buck flush with surprise.

And maybe a tiny bit to make Phillip Buckley uncomfortable. He has always been good at multi-tasking, after all.

The first few days go by without incident, to everyone’s surprise. It’s still an awkward stilted atmosphere, but Buck’s parents keep to themselves until help is actively needed, and Eddie keeps Buck sane with mindless chatter and daily facetime calls to check in on Chris.

“Bye, mijo,” Eddie says as they’re hanging up their latest call, “love you.”

“Love you, too, dad,” Chris says, even though he rolls his eyes as he does. “Love you, Buck,” he adds, with considerably less attitude.

“Love you, buddy,” Buck says, grinning at Eddie’s screen and waving as Chris disconnects.

“I see who the favorite is,” Eddie huffs as he puts the phone down and leans back against the uncomfortable leather couch in the Buckley living-room.

“Don’t be a hater,” Buck says, grinning.

Before Eddie can reply, Margaret appears in the doorway to let them know Phillip will need help up to their bedroom in a few minutes.

“No problem,” Buck says. “He’s getting pretty good with those crutches, too. The physical therapist will be impressed.”

Margaret gives him a smile that seems placating at best, but at least it’s not a sneer.

“That was your son?” she asks Eddie, “Christopher, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “He’s a teenager so he thinks he’s too cool to miss his dad, but I’m going to bug him ever day anyway.”

“He seems to care about you both very much,” Margaret says, quietly. “That’s good.”

“Mom,” Buck says, at a loss of how to respond to that, but she just shakes her head.

“I think your father is ready,” she says instead of replying, and once again leaves them alone and confused about what in the world just happened.

“He took one of his pain pills,” Margaret warns them as Buck and Eddie support Phillip on either side and head up the wide stairs.

“We’ve got him,” Buck assures her, his father already becoming dead weight between them as he gets drowsier.

“I’ll be up as soon as I load the dishwasher,” Margaret says, leaving them to it.

They get Phillip into his pajamas and then his bed with no resistance, the pain medication making him heavy but easygoing.

“Thanks, boys,” he says as they start to leave. “You have a good one here, Evan.”

“Oh,” Buck says, stalling in surprise, before ducking his head bashfully.

“Yeah,” he says, “Eddie’s pretty great.”

“You’re pretty great,” Eddie replies automatically, and Phillip laughs.

“See?” he says, giggling in a way Buck’s never heard before. “You really love each other.”

“Sure do,” Eddie says, before Buck can have a complete meltdown at his father’s sudden affable mood. “Get some rest, Mr. Buckley.”

“Goodnight, boys,” Phillip says, and then he’s out like a light.

“What the fuck,” Buck whispers, looking over at Eddie with wide eyes.

Eddie just shrugs. He has no idea.

“So,” Eddie says that night as they’re in bed. Parks and Rec is playing from Buck’s ipad, but it’s more background noise than anything, and Buck turns his attention away from it easily enough.

“So?”

“I guess maybe your parents aren’t homophobic?” Eddie asks. “Your dad seems remarkably chill with us, anyway.”

Buck shrugs. “I guess,” he says. “They never actually came out and said anything awful when they found out I was with a guy. But I just assumed they would be passive aggressive about it like they are about everything else.”

“I would’ve thought so, too,” Eddie agrees. “But they genuinely don’t seem to care.”

Buck laughs ruefully. “I should’ve expected that, honestly. They haven’t cared about a thing I’ve done since I stopped hurting myself to get their attention.”

“Just four more days,” Eddie says, reaching out and ruffling Buck’s hair playfully. “That health aid is starting the day after Thanksgiving, right?”

Buck nods. “They had to pay extra for that, I think. But it’ll be worth it.” He pauses and laughs as Eddie continues to ruffle his hair. “Why are you petting me?”

“I…” Eddie says, freezing in place. “It’s how I would comfort Chris, when he wasn’t too ‘grown up’ for a little babying.” He pulls his hand away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Buck says, still smiling. “It’s sweet. You’re sweet.”

“Shh,” Eddie says in a conspiratorial whisper, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Right,” Buck says, just as quietly. “I forgot you were Mr. Tough Guy who never panics.”

“I don’t need your sass, Buckley,” Eddie says, leaning in to knock his forehead against Buck’s shoulder.

“Then move back to your side of the bed, Diaz,” Buck says smugly.

Eddie glances down and realizes that they are in fact lying much closer together than is required, feet of space on the mattress on both sides of them.

“Shut up,” he says, suppressing the urge to sink his teeth into the cotton of Buck’s t-shirt.

Neither of them move away.

“You didn’t tell me we’d have to actually go to the fancy country club for Thanksgiving!” Eddie hisses at Buck once they’re back in Buck’s room after Margaret’s announcement.

“I didn’t know!” Buck defends. “Mom told me they were going to have it catered, and I thought she just meant here!”

“Don’t their friends have their own families to suffocate?” Eddie asks, digging through his carry-on bag for options. “We didn’t bring anything fancy enough to wear to a nice dinner.”

“I have a few button-ups,” Buck says, frowning at the options. “We could probably get away with those if we have dark jeans?”

“We are not the same size,” Eddie says, laughing when he sees Buck’s face furrowed in thought.

“So the shirt will be a little loose,” Buck says, “You never have to see these people again.”

“Fair enough,” Eddie says, “But I call the dark green one I know you have in there, you’re not making me wear orange.”

“It’s burnt sienna,” Buck huffs. “And fine, whatever you want. Just help me get through this meal tomorrow, and then we can finally go home when the aid gets here Friday.”

“No Maddie this year?” one of the Buckley’s friends ask as they arrive and take their assigned seats. Buck looks down at his little card labelled Evan, grateful that Eddie is seated next to him even if his card just says Guest.

“Oh you know,” Margaret says with a charming and insincere smile. “Traveling with children is so hard this time of year.”

“I remember those days,” the woman says, returning the fake smile. “Oh and look at your little Evan,” she says. “Didn’t you grow up big and strong.”

“Uh,” Buck says, freezing at the predatory look in the older woman’s eyes. “I guess so.”

“I have no complaints,” Eddie says, leaning over so he can give the woman a wicked grin.

“Oh!” she says, giving Margaret a scandalized look. “I didn’t know your son was a homosexual.”

She says the word like it burns her tongue to do so, and Eddie’s never hit a woman outside of combat training before but he’s feeling the need to make an exception.

Buck stops him with a well place hand on his knees, squeezing to tell him it’s not worth it.

“How is your son anyway, Agnes?” Buck asks. “Still in prison?”

“Evan!” Margaret chastises him. “Don’t be rude.”

Evan rolls his eyes but turns away from Agnes, turning his body and entire attention to Eddie.

“You’re terrible,” he whispers, still smirking at Eddie’s comment.

“You love it,” Eddie says, trying and failing not to sound unbearably fond.

The honest to god dinner bell rings before Buck can confirm or deny, but there’s no doubt in Eddie’s mind what his answer would be.

“The dinner was delicious, Mr. & Mrs. Buckley,” Eddie says, years of ingrained manners winning out temporarily over his desire to be petty. “Thank you for including me.”

“Of course, son,” Phillip says as they help him into the car and place the crutches securely out of the way.

Eddie and Buck share a quick incredulous look, but say nothing for the time being.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive, mom?” Buck offers. “It’s getting dark out.”

“It’s not far,” Margaret says, waving off the offer.

They’re nearly home, the only sound in the car the first hours of Christmas music from the local radio station, when Margaret speaks again.

“I’m sorry about Agnes,” she says, meeting Buck’s eyes briefly in the rearview mirror. “She never did have any tact.”

“It’s…” Buck says, before stopping, because it’s not ok. “Thank you,” he says instead.

Margaret nods, and then turns the radio volume up just enough to signify that the conversation is over.

Beside him, Eddie takes his hand between both of his own and rests them together on his knees, thumbs soothing the skin beneath them. Buck looks over at him gratefully and leans over to rest his head against Eddie’s shoulder as they ride on.

“Final night,” Eddie says after his turn in the shower, leaning against the doorway instead of joining Buck in bed immediately.

“Thank fuck,” Buck says. “They haven’t even been as bad as I expected, but just being here is so draining.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “I’m not a fan of the walking on eggshells lifestyle.”

“Dinner was good though,” Buck says, patting his stomach. “Whoever they hired used seasoning and everything.”

“If we weren’t going to be on a plane in like twelve hours, I know you would’ve taken that whole apple pie home,” Eddie laughs. “I saw how you looked at it.”

“I’m a growing boy,” Buck says, leaning back on his arms where he sits on the bed.

“You’re absolutely not,” Eddie says, “pretty sure you stopped growing like ten years ago.”

“Nah,” Buck says, giving Eddie that little smirk that he knows is going to hurt his brain. “All my growing is just in one spot now.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, sighing.

“If you get what I mean,” Buck continues, gleefully.

“I get it,” Eddie says, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “I promise you I get it.”

“It’s my dick, Eddie,” Buck says, unperturbed. “The growing is in my dick.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Eddie says, unable to stop the amused smile on his face. “I don’t know why I like you so much.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks, giving Eddie a sharp-eyed look that has him gulping against his suddenly dry throat. “I like you too, you know. Really liked how you looked in my shirt tonight.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, frozen in place. “What are we talking about here? Playing boyfriends is one thing, but you’re looking at me like it’s not pretend, and I don’t know what to do about that.”

“Come here,” Buck says, reaching out a hand until Eddie manages to get his legs working again and walks over until he’s standing between Buck’s legs.

“Do you know what I realized this week?” he asks, taking one of Eddie’s hands in his.

Eddie shakes his head and waits, breathing in the scent of the bodywash they’ve been sharing coming off of Buck’s heated skin.

“I realized we didn’t even have to try,” Buck says, giving him a soft look. “We didn’t even do anything different besides a few pet names. And not one person thought we were faking it.”

“It was nice,” Eddie admits. “I didn’t realize how nice it would be. I just wanted to help.”

“Not your fault I’m in love with you,” Buck says, as if it’s not tearing him up inside to confess.

Looking into Buck’s crinkling eyes, Eddie realizes that maybe it’s not.

Maybe it doesn’t have to.

“I think I’ve been in love with you for years,” Eddie says. “I didn’t want to admit it, and I still haven’t really figured out all this sexuality stuff.”

“There’s no rush,” Buck says, softly, and the last of Eddie’s resistance melts away.

“I’m sure about you, though,” he says, using his free hand to cup Buck’s jaw. “Sleeping so close to you has been killing me.”

“No dying,” Buck orders, leaning into Eddie’s touch. “You should kiss me instead of dying.”

Eddie leans down and kisses him silent, Buck responding with matching enthusiasm, wrapping his calves around Eddie’s and pulling him as close as possible.

When they pull apart, Eddie tastes salt on his lips, and realizes with a shock that he’s crying.

“Shit,” Buck says, looking up at him with alarm. “Was it that bad? I thought it felt nice.”

“No,” Eddie reassures him, wiping at his eyes. “Not bad. It felt like… I can’t even find the words.”

“It’s ok,” Buck says, moving so that both hands are around Eddie’s waist, holding him in place and in one piece. “As long as it wasn’t bad.”

“It felt,” Eddie tries again, taking a breath and feeling Buck’s reassuring grip on him, “it felt like coming home.”

“Oh,” Buck says, grinning at him. “That’s pretty good, then.”

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie says. “It’s really good.”

“It’s never going to really be better with them, is it?” Buck asks as they fly somewhere over Oklahoma.

“Probably not,” Eddie says. “But I think it’s ok to love them, even if you don’t want them to be an active part of your life.”

“It wasn’t so bad this time,” Buck says, shrugging. “But they’re just never going to love me the way I wanted them to. Like Maddie loves Jee, or you love Chris.”

“The way we love Chris,” Eddie corrects him. “I know you adopted him in your mind the day you met him.”

“Yeah, well,” Buck says, choking up despite his best efforts. “He’s a really great kid, shut up.”

“And he loves the hell out of you,” Eddie says, “don’t forget that.”

“Please don’t make me cry on an airplane,” Buck says, laughing wetly.

“Fine,” Eddie acquiesces. “I’ll save my sappy speeches until we’re back in our own home. But just know they’re coming; I have a whole wooing plan.”

Buck just laughs before leaning in for a sweet kiss.

“Consider me wooed.”

The End.

[issa-wasteland]

Lisa Frankenstein 🧟‍♂️💖

I truly love Lisa Frankenstein for many reasons. From Taffy actually making the effort to include Lisa in the their family and her social group despite being the popular cheerleader. We don't see that much in movies as it is refreshing to see that in a character who wants to be more than what social role she fits into and caring for her step-sister. As for the step-mom, Janet was the one who needed help and took every opportunity to blame Lisa for anything. She most definitely projected the "wanting attention" onto Lisa cause she brings it up almost every conversation as you can see she does her little theatrics in front of Dale and Dale gives her that attention and less for Lisa.

*I found it ironic how the creature was wearing a shirt that says "Violent Femmes" on it as they chuck out a worm in Janet's bowl then murdered Janet with a sewing machine, and stole her ear.

*Most of the boys and men in this movie suck and perverted. From Dale being a negligent father to Lisa but supportive of Taffy, Lisa's boss is a weird perv who commented on her "flat chest," Doug being the "Nice guy" who's downright terrible and could've SA'd Lisa, That bigot old man who started a fight with the creature, and Michael Trent who is a loser.

*The outfits in this movie was so fitting for the time that it takes place in. It doesn't feel forced (?) If that makes sense whenever a movie or tv show takes place in the 80s.

*I wonder if Lisa ever re-drew that lighting on her hand cause she has it on her hand throughout the movie. And, if Lisa continues to raid Taffy's closet for clothes then it's correct to assume she also lends Taffy's clothes to the creature?? The pj's Lisa wore were cute especially the cowboy one.

*Lisa gets on the creature for murder and how the car they were in is probably tracked yet hardly cover up the blood stain on the carpet?? Plus she's so aware of knowing the things they did is wrong but not entirely sorry for it.

*Her speech to Michael totally made sense cause I'm sure people knew a guy who is exactly what Lisa was talkin about and that does make them a loser.

*I love how the creature wasted no time to cut off some peen as they turned up the music, slashed, and collected what was needed before going on their merry way.

* Also the creature is most definitely trans and Lisa was very understanding to tell them that pretty much peen is not the only way to feel satisfied during sex 🏳️‍⚧️

*Cole sprouse really nails on showing the creature yearning for Lisa especially when they're back at the cemetery.

*Hand kisses 💋 💖💖👌 as the sex scene  surprisingly doesn't feel cringe or uncomfortable to watch like some intimate scenes in movies.

*Using a tanning bed as a way to bring life into the creature is an interesting concept as does a reverse and "kills" Lisa. Plus she just has bad luck with electricity, the girl gets shocked using the "back massager."

This movie was just overall fun to watch 💋

[but-a-humble-goon]

Adam Taurus Stans confuse me. Like, of all characters to die on they chose the Worst Guy in the show, and will swear up and down how cool he is on account of “black and red Iaido sword fighting is cool.”

For the exact same reason they get mad at the RWBY girls for developing outside of their initial seemingly two dimensional personalities. RWBY early on managed to attract the kind of people to its fanbase that subsist entirely on shit like Sword Art Online (or worse). Anime where the girls exist solely to be assembly line waifus distinguishable entirely by a small handful of endlessly repeatable shallow personality types so ubiquitous they literally have their own names

Category:Dere Types | Dere Types Wiki | Fandom Likewise the men exist solely to be avatars of pure, shameless power fantasy. Bland, empty cyphers the male audience can more easily project themselves onto. We call it bad writing, they call it the entire point. A lot of people like to use Jaune as their self insert but he is a gigantic loser and some people aren’t into that. Emphasis on some because the entire harem genre is built on loser protagonists which is why this fandom has so much of that going on. But still a lot of people were waiting for their Kirito. A badass edgy sigma male Gary Stu. Ren's much less of a loser than Jaune but also very much does not fit into that category. Wouldn't you know it though, there is exactly one other relatively age appropriate male character in the show from the start and he totally does meet that criteria if that's what you're looking for. In fact he fits the bill suspiciously well... Before we knew anything about him, before he'd had any screentime outside of the trailer and one five second long ending reveal in Volume 2, Adam Taurus had already been pre-selected as the designated male power fantasy self insert by a huge swathe of the audience. And to be fair that was intentional on the part of the show. It's not an accident that Adam is a walking goulash of things weebs are hardwired to have wet dreams over. The entire point of him was to brutally deconstruct the exact archetype of character he represents. The problem is we're dealing with media literacy on par with the average deep sea invertebrate. So season 3 happens and all the normal people went "oh wow that Adam Taurus guy is a creepy abusive psycho stalker and a complete monster, I can't to see him get his comeuppance" but all of the guys I've been talking about were instead sat there like "...so when does the power fantasy begin?" Then by the time they realized two entire seasons later that they were the ones being made fun of they were already very committed to this character. Channels like Eruptionfang had already put out playlists of media analysis videos examining the complexities of this completely made up version of the character that existed solely in the realm of their imagination who, were he ever real, would be the perfect sigma male antihero they were so desperately waiting for. Bit hard to just accept you were wrong by that point.

[snappedsky]

ROTTMNT: Retired Leo AU

Leonardo helps April with a job interview.

--

Mr. O’Neil

April slumps down the subway tunnels, head low and feet dragging. When she enters the lair, Leonardo is sitting in the TV chair with Splinter on his lap; Leo and Casey are sharing a beanbag chair as they play on their phones; Donnie and Raph are facing each other in a video game on the TV; and Mikey is sitting in the other beanbag, watching them.

April drags herself across the room and collapses face first on Mikey’s beanbag, groaning.

“Hi, April,” he says happily.

“Hi, Mikey,” she mutters. She groans again as she rolls over onto her back, dragging her hands down her face. “I’m gonna remain a jobless loser forever.”

“Why, what happened now?” Donnie asks apathetically.

“I applied to be a security guard at the mall,” April explains.

“Oh, you’d be good at that,” Casey remarks.

“I know!” she agrees, “but because I’m not 21, and because I’m a woman- they didn’t actually say that part, but I’m sure it’s gotta be one of the reasons- they want my parent to come in with me for the job interview.”

“So what’s the problem?” Raph asks.

“My mom will never agree to the job,” April replies, “she’s been real worried about me lately and wants me to stay safe and responsible and whatever.”

“Does she not know that you helped saved the planet from a hostile alien invasion?” Leo asks.

“That’s part of the reason she’s worried,” she clarifies, “she doesn’t know I helped fight the Krang, but I was away from home during the whole invasion. And I’m always staying out late and often coming home with bruises. I feel bad for stressing her out all the time, but I really want this security guard job.”

“Well, April,” Splinter says, “I will gladly pose as your father for the interview.”

“Uh, I appreciate that, Splints,” April replies hesitantly, “but I don’t think anyone would buy that we’re related.”

As he pouts, she looks past him up at Leonardo, who’s mostly focused on his can of soda. “But, Leonardo! You could totally do it!”

“Huh?” he questions as April jumps up to her feet and grabs his arm.

“You’re great at sweet talking people,” she points out, “you could pose as my dad and convince the manager to give me the job!”

[rosypenguins]

I am NOT the you are to drew like Henry is to me anon I am a completely different person however. I'd like to share a little something about Henry.

I had a friend on discord once and we talked about Henry quite a lot, and we made what is what I think my FAVOURITE Henry theory of all time.

Okay, think about it: what's the ONE tmf character that has a design trait that literally HIDES or CHANGES their real appearance to the audience? That's right; HENRY. Henry's real EYES are never seen (except for the glow up video which I'm really not counting because that's like... a silly little thing BUT ANYWAY) in the show. And we all know eyes are the window to the soul. What I'm getting at here is that I don't think that Henry is genuine, not in a malicious way, but in some sort of... like, joke... way?? Gosh I can't explain it but here look.

Think about it. Why the hell would Henry spit gum into Zoeys hair? ZOEY, aka Drew's girlfriend, aka THAT ZOEY? For the comedic value. Because its funny.

Why does he like lettuce juice? Really think about it. Really. What. Does lettuce juice. Taste like. Just fucking water. Maybe terrible water but you can't juice a fucking lettuce. This is a gag, yes, but the only closer similar gag is maybe Zander drinking grape juice I guess... but that's not similar. Grapes can be juiced. Where would you even GET a lettuce juice box? That's right, NOWHERE. Henry must've crafted those boxes, or at least stuck a sticker onto a green juice box, for a bit. Wouldn't that be insane ass effort to put into a bit? Hell, the juice is green. If you juice a lettuce it wouldn't be green. It's not a lettuce smoothie, it's a "lettuce juice". Meaning that Henry either getting green juice or dying water himself isn't out of the picture.

Why is he always goofing around? Sure, you can say thats just his silly goofy aura, but just THINK. He is DESIGNED with silly goofy in mind. His literal physical appearance is silly. HE LITERALLY HAS MEME EYES. HE'S THE ONLY ONE WITH MEME. EYES.

I know this is just an archetype. I know he's just a character.

But just. Think.

He isnt just "a comedic relief character", he IS the comedic relief character. In their show. That's the role he put on himself. The role he's putting effort to play no matter the consequence.

But why would that be? I mean, look at Liam! He's silly and goofy too, why am I doing this whole ass essay?

I bring another point into discussion; the fact that he's a WEEB.

A DORK.

A GEEK.

Now, I may be projecting just a smidge here, but that just means I have personal experiences of that happening.

We all know Drewy Bear loves to adopt absolute fucking losers and up their status, as shown with Jake. And, come on, think about it, Henry is like THE most bulliable character in the show, no offense. So, what I'm proposing,

Is that Henry must've gotten bullied before too. It would make total sense! He's a weeb, excitable, probably says "nani!?" Unironically, etc. And you know, sometimes when you're picked on... you really start to internalise that shit. Sometimes the attention you get from people laughing at you feels good. Terrible, hurtful, and devastating... but good. Because they find you funny.

And you then put ALL your effort into being funny. That's the only thing you're gonna be, after all, you're hillarious. Oh, you can only eat X food? What are you, a rabbit? Hahaha, turn that into a funny bit! Etc, etc etc.

We don't know how long this went on or how long Henry was a Dromie, but one things for sure (in my theory): all of this slowly made him less and less of a person, and more and more of just a joke.

And no, the lettuce thing isn't a reach. I've had this genuinely happen to me personally; people kept on making fun of me because I had to soften my food because of my chronic fatigue, so i turned it into a bit. I'm not ruling this out for Henry.

....

But hey that's just a theory A FREAK THEORY thanks for watching aaaaand send ask

That is a WILD theory but I TOTALLY see what you’re getting at!! That makes so much sense! And it takes his silly role as comic relief and spins it around to be hella depressing. (Turning yourself into the joke just to make people laugh is way too real-😭)

Almost makes me wonder too what if ALL the Jomies were bullied prior to meeting Drew? I mean Liam’s not exactly the definition of cool either. That’d be really interesting to see.

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

you guys are so pathetic talking about Olivia “she’s painting Alicent as a conflicted character instead the bad stepmother, she’s projecting!” fucking losers and pathetic, hotd fans stop being the most insane fandom challenge 🤡 team black stans only talk about alicent this, alicent that, invent lies in twitter just to talk shit about Olivia, give it a break, she’s not responsible of the writing of the show and you guys make it seems like she personally wrote alicent like that, most of you forgot how the asoiaf behaved towards Sophie (mind you when she was just a kid) and Lena for playing Cersei. Actors are entitled to defend themselves when crazy stans attack them and look for personal excuses to “hate” and dislike them that goes beyond of “I don’t like your character” just awful but what can we expect with targ stans tbh you all got so fucking cry babies after the end of GoT

I don't think you realize that you're actually agreeing with one of my points about Olivia Cooke. I've literally already talked about how toxic fandoms go after the actors and actresses of disliked characters wrongfully twice. It's a symptom of how people struggle with separating reality from media.

Accusing me of ignoring that when I literally talked about it in my original post is ridiculous. It shows how you're not actually fucking reading what I'm saying, like all Alicent/TG stans who interact with me. What I said in my post is how I disagree with Olivia's interpretation of her character and how it seems like her fear of the earlier issue is impacting how she wants to portray Alicent.

I know she didn't write Alicent and that she didn't have any influence on that. Do you know why I know she has no control over that? Because she outright contradicts the writing choices Condal and Hess made and talk about. The most obvious one is how she said she "refused to play Alicent as a woman for Trump" when that's how she was written and Condal literally said that's how she is. I'm criticizing how she clearly doesn't like how her character is written but still tries to constantly defend her by refusing to acknowledge the parts she doesn't like.

You literally just word vomited into my inbox, you don't make an actual argument. You don't want me to criticize your fav or the actress who plays her, but you're not trying to defend the points I make. It's ridiculous and pathetic.

Also I've literally never seen people complaining about Alicent being "conflicted". Our issue is actually how Alicent was written by Condal and Hess to be inconsistent, hypocritical, and a constant victim despite being one of the most powerful people in the show. If you look on my page, literally all of my complaints about the writing are focused on the actual writers. You're arguing with your imagination, which probably explains why you're not making any actual points other than "how dare you criticize her 😡".

You know, you're coming across as the "crybaby" in this scenario, since you're just crying in my inbox and ignoring what I'm saying. You complaining about Dany and Targaryen stans being upset with GOT is very ironic, since Alicent stans are the one of the most sensitive group in this fandom (case in point).

Olivia Cooke is a person, she's fallible and it's totally fair and allowable to criticize her. You're right, she shouldn't be hated and harassed, but that doesn't mean she's perfect and above messing up. You just hate anything connected to Alicent being criticized and it very much shows. Stop projecting your obsession onto TB stans, it's annoying and just plain wrong, you'd know this if you actually looked at what people actually say instead of living in your delusional world.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

If Reader and Homelander were raised together under Soldier Boy’s care, growing up Homelander took on the role of your “dad” since he’s your older brother. He often projects his mommy issues onto you stating “ladies shouldn’t do this…” or “ladies shouldn’t do that..” (referring to their dads numerous lovers). He’s extremely protective of preserving your “innocence” meaning his psychotic tendencies will come out and he will kill those who disrupt your perception of the world as a whole that he carefully cultivated he’ll kill them in a heartbeat. His friends are your friends and he’s YOUR best friend and anytime you tried to date and bring them home to your dad and father they barely last because they must throw him out of the house no questions asked

when Soldier Boy has one of his women over, I imagine Homelander taking you out of the house so you wouldn't have to hear anything

maybe you have a wooded area behind your house where the two of you like to play or just to get away from Soldier Boy (especially when he's in one of his moods)

ugh he would totally have a sister complex

makes you into the perfect little lady and treats you as his personal doll

Homelander tries to shield you from most of Soldier Boy's behavior but that was simply impossible to achieve sometimes.

your his baby which is weird and confusing considering the mommy issues thing but HL's a complicated guy anyway.

when you're at the dating age, Homelander becomes a complete menace to any and all boys that even breathed the same air as you

and guard dog dad Soldier Boy? nah he ain't having any of that bullshit. you absolutely can't bring over any boys unless Homelander knows them and can vouch that their just friends.

best believe Homelander and Soldier Boy are making dastardly plans to dispatch any boy romantically interested in you

because Soldier Boy ain't risking his little girl getting knocked up by some loser.

[act-nat-ural]

Occupied

Prologue

(idk if posting on my phone makes the format look weird but if so please lmk. If you want to be added to the taglist lmk also!)

chapter 1

You stroll into the small diner as if you have been there hundreds of times, due to the fact because you have. It is your first and only choice of a lunch date location with your dear friend, Eliza. You would say it is because it’s because it has the best food and the desserts are to die for, but it’s really because of how affordable it is. Despite the food being subpar, the diner is still very cozy and the waitstaff is friendly whenever you dine there. The place isn’t very busy today, with only an elderly couple and a young lady studying in the right corner being the other people.

You hardly need to scan the room before you see her in the far left corner, sipping quietly on her latte. You grin at the sight of the back of her unruly blonde hair and as quietly as possible, creep over to her. As you get closer you notice she has her headphones on, blinding her to any noise approaching her.

Perfect.

A hand quickly grasps her shoulder and she curses loudly, accidentally spilling a bit of her drink onto the table.

“Shit! Why! Why did you do that?”

You giggle and slide into the booth across from her, grabbing napkins and cleaning as you go.

“You make it easy,” you respond nonchalantly.

“No, you’re just a fucking ninja.”

“I don’t need to be a ninja to sneak up on someone who is making themselves deaf.” You respond eyebrow raised. She rolls her eyes and shrugs off her headphones. “So, what did you want to tell me about?” you question.

“What, no greetings? Hi, how are you, my darling friend?”

“I think we are beyond that point if we’re being honest. Besides, we were on the phone on my drive over here.”

“What I wanted to talk to you about was-“

Moving on then, I see.

“-you do not have to pay rent during your trip next week.”

You pause, interest immediately piqued. This could go one of two ways. One, the most probable answer, she has come up with one of her outlandish plans that we both know hold no real meaning to them, just to entertain you. Or, there’s a small chance it could be option two. She actually has found a valid, soundproof way to save you hundreds on hotel fees.

“… I’m listening.”

“I knew you would be,” She quips with a cheeky smile. “So you know my totally loser brother? The one who lives in England?”

Ah, yes. Adam. Her weirdo brother who chose to make bombs as a career. Not the most friendly or stable man you’ve met, but hey family is family.

“Don’t tell me you want me to stay with him. I think I would rather get shot down in a plane than have to converse with him for longer than an hour.” You groan and rest your face into your hands.

“Nooo, I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemies. Yuck. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, he’s going out of the country for a month or so, to Germany. Sooo…?”

“...So? I don’t see how this correlates.”

“Seriously?! You can stay at his place while he’s gone. Duh!”

“Hmmm… no.”

“Wha- no!? You can’t just say no! I already told him you would.“ Eliza starts raising her voice, accidentally attracting the attention of the student in the other corner. The lovely elderly couple either don’t notice or don’t seem to mind.

“Why in the WORLD would you do that? And lower your voice!”

“Because he wanted me to house-sit for him, and what’s the difference between me and you sitting in an empty cabin for a few weeks? Plus, not only is it not costing you money, you get PAID to stay there.”

Damn. She’s got you there. You sigh and rub your temples, feeling a migraine coming on.

“Okay, let me get this straight. I can just fly over there, live in your brother's cabin for up to a MONTH, for FREE, and get paid to do it. But he thinks it’s you staying there?”

“Yeah, but I mean a body’s a body,” she shrugs.

“Huh. I don’t know, Liz. This feels weird. “

“It’s not weird, I swear. I wouldn’t put you in a weird situation and we both know it. “

She does have a point, but you can’t shake the feeling that something unexpected is going to occur during your stay. Still, that could just be the nerves getting to you. This could be a really fun opportunity! You get to lay back and enjoy the nice open countryside, all by your lonesome.

“Okay, say it hypothetically agree. Where would I get a key to his place?” you question. “It seems suspicious to ask him to copy a key for me to use.”

“Just use mine. I had one made during my last stay, I’m pretty sure he knows about it. Like, 87 percent sure.”

You sigh. You can’t comprehend that she had a plan that made logical sense, let alone convinced you to go along with it.

“Okay. I’ll stay there.”

Yes! Let’s fucking go! We are going somewhere nice to dinner with the house-sitting money, by the way. “

You just smile and shake your head in return.

———

The day of your trip finally arrives and everything is going relatively smoothly. Although you about had 5 heart attacks every time you couldn’t feel your passport in your pocket, you landed in one piece. The flight was long and boring, but you had Chappell Roan and Podcasts downloaded to listen to. The drunk guy sitting next to you did end up spilling water on you, of course. Just your luck.

Nonetheless, your mood was sky-high. Months of planning and preparation have gone into this, and it better be everything you expected and more. Or else some tea is going in the damn harbor. You decided against using transport services mainly because of how remote Adam’s cabin was, it would be extremely tedious just to get a ride to go grocery shopping. Instead, you went with renting a vehicle. Sure, you initially entered the wrong side of the car and almost caused an accident or two, but hey! Nobody’s perfect.

You finally, FINALLY, pull into the small gravel driveway. There are hardly any neighbors around, the closest probably being a mile or two away, so you don’t feel self-conscious about your parking job. You inspect the cabin as you heave your luggage out of the car and onto the front porch.

It was a fairly large log cabin with a second story and a garden in the back. There were hardly any cobwebs on the porch, and the cabin looked well taken care of. The garden seemed to have a selection of different vegetables, but not any flowers. Figures, Adam was the kind to say taking care of flowers was a waste of time and energy. As you put Eliza’s spare key into the door knob, you felt a rush of excitement. You couldn’t wait to just do whatever you want for a few weeks. You turn the key and push the door open.

[horizon-verizon]

I fail to understand why Aegon II and Aemond stans are always the ones demanding more of Jace’s character when they don’t give a fuck about him anyways. They refuse to understand his character as is bc to them “complexity” is being a rapist and the fact that he’s good and caring despite the difficulties surrounding his life is frustrating because it makes their loser faves look even worse under the light. You ppl will never like him unless you can make him look bad and antagonistic towards his family so why keep pretending otherwise ?

Jace is complex, I’m sure there’s a certain level of resentment, he just doesn’t make it everyone else’s problem, nor does it deter him from loving and respecting his mother, his background is complicated but more so in a societal aspect, his resentment isn’t towards his mother or his fathers for their role but rather society as a whole and those who have tried to make him seem lesser than for his birth (Alicent and her sons).

They don’t even want “complexity” from him to enjoy his character but so they can have a gotcha and convince themselves Jace is worse than Aegon II and Aemond. Keep stanning those misogynistic freaks and leave Jace out of it.

bc to them “complexity” is being a rapist and the fact that he’s good and caring despite the difficulties surrounding his life is frustrating because it makes their loser faves look even worse under the light.

And because some genuinely would be those who highly resented Rhaenyra for not being born as privileged/on the more status-quo leaning side. they themselves could never develop some sort of character or warmth for their own if it places them at some sort of social disadvantage that is not their parents' fault or is way more complicated than they want it to be, but they don't care. They'd totally shift the blame onto Rhaenyra if they were in Jace's shoes, so it's projection. And you're right, it's more for fandom gotchas than to actually appreciate the character's presentation of existing as a social "deviation".

Ironic bc they constantly talk abt "we can't make a historical setting = to a modern one or evaluate the circumstances with modern values" while also arguing that Alicent's child-brideness exists when "child bride" is not a concept in her world....make that make sense!

[xamaxenta]

would not put any kink past ace and sabo honestly. sabo doesnt even know until marco goes phoenix mode and lands on the battlefield perched above everything else with his big blue wings stretched out over the whitebeards and sabo suddenly is like woah i never realized he had talons before. like. big talons. Really big ones . he could probably pick sabo up off the ground like a hawk does a mouse and those talons might even kill him on impact if marco wanted them to. marco lifts his wings and takes off again and the railing hed been perched on is completely warped from the force of how he gripped it. its even red hot from the heat of his flames, and a bit of molten metal slides off onto the ground. sabo accidentally explodes a guys skull in his hand and ace catches him like ahahah this fucking loser has a bird feet fetish!!!! whaaaaat are you all worked up about marcos powerful lethal weapons? ahaha youre into his burning piercing talons? what a loser haha. you want him to crush your ribs or something? to open you and feast on your insides like prometheus? he could probably strip the flesh off our bodies with those . ha. haha. they look at each other and then at the railing and then at each other again. sabo: lets stop talking for a little while

It started off as some loving hazing between boyfriends but then Ace realises Sabos totally 101% serious, because, hes hard, and, Sabos boring holes into him like fully locked on the blind eye too and the tent in his pants lmao he wants whatever the fuck Ace is yapping on about and will he shut the fuck up asap bc hes been dying to go whack one out for the past ten mins and he will probably implode if he doesnt get to cum rn

Sabos like fuck i want him to pick me up and toss me about like a small animal i want him to break my neck and scoop out my insides

Ace: sounds like projection mate