#yeah it sucks if i can't afford it myself

[hazel2468]

My bullshit job: Hey so I know we work entirely with disabled clients, and I know a bunch of you on staff are also disabled, but we're gonna go ahead and lift all masking and vaccine requirements.

Me, in the staff meeting: Hi yeah so those requirements made me feel safe coming into the office, something I already fucking hate because I started full time remote, and now you're putting us all at risk.

Head of HR, total cunt: WELL just wash your hands! You don't KNOW that everyone was vaccinated! I'm going to publicly blow you off and be super condescending and a complete cunt in front of everyone.

Two months later

Head of HR: Hi there! I'm sending out our SIXTH EMAIL SINCE THAT STAFF MEETING to let you know we had a COVID exposure at the office! This is the sixth time in two months, compared to the maybe three times in the last two years total before we got rid of masking and vax requirements! Fuck all of you cripples, I'm an abled person on staff and I don't give a damn about you!

---

Anyway. I need to test again now, and spend my own damn money on tests. Who else is applying for jobs that don't neglect and criminally underpay their employees? (Seriously I haven't had a raise in 3 years and I've been told not to expect one until next year at least)

[gilverrwrites]

You want my groupie love

Ft. Dick, Jason, Roy, and Wally 400-500 words each Request: Anon requested any of the above finding out you have a crush on their hero alter-ego. I did all of em cause I've been looking for an excuse to sink my teeth into some fluffy rambling! Warnings: Swearing | Alcohol | Secrets | Non-graphic mentions of violence  

Dick: Hey Neighbour

Dick could easily see how the new mailman switching up your post so often could get annoying, especially considering his busy schedule. However, he just couldn't bring himself to be upset over anything that gives him an excuse to see you. Admittedly, he's pushing it today, ringing your buzzer so early in the morning but the moment you open the door, revealing the most adorable bedhead and an oversized Nightwing shirt, he can't bring himself to care.

“Nice shirt.” He offers, but he's not certain you understand as you stare at him with squinted eyes and pouty lips.

“You want something?” Your voice is low and slow, thick with sleep but still hot as hell.

He wants you. “Yeah, um, my parcel says delivered but it's not! I just wondered if maybe they left it with you again?”

You continue to stare at him blankly for a moment longer before recognition seems to click in those pretty eyes.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you murmur as you grab his mail from somewhere behind the door and hand it to him. Together you go through the polite thanks and no problem motions, but when you're done, he can't bring himself to leave. Maybe this is the day he finally asks you out.

“Do you- “

“Are you- “

You talk over each other, and then you dance around it until you finally win out the no you go argument.

“Do…” He’s about to ask when a thought pops into his head. That oversized tee is very oversized. “Is that your boyfriend's top?”

“I don't have a boyfriend.” You confirm, nervously playing with the hem and accidentally revealing a hint of your Nightwing sleep shorts.

“Just a big Nightwing fan, huh?” He's not sure why he's pushing it, something about the notion makes him feel good.

“You could say that.” You reply hesitantly. Your eyes flicker from him, back into your apartment a few times before you open your door. Nothing could have prepared Dick for the sight before him. Your living room was chockful of Nightwing merch; pillowcases, replica wing-dings, figurines, Blüd postcards with his likeness on them to name a few. Some are licensed, but most are not. There's a very real moment in which the blood drains from him, and he's concerned that he should be worried about you and your intention before you explain. “I kind of went on a big dumb rant about how Nightwing was snubbed for The Sexiest Hero Alive award a few years ago, and my friends have never let me forget about it. Now everyone and their dog buys me his merch for my Birthday and whatnot. I just can't bring myself to throw any of it out.”

“Ohhh.” That's a relief. His unease is replaced with twice as much giddiness. Sexiest Hero Alive, huh? He hadn’t cared that much about the award, but he cares that you care. “I’d love to hear more if by any chance you wanna grab breakfast together?

Jason: On the news

Jason is already sat in your usual spot when you arrive at the café, he even went ahead and got your usual order. The $12 was worth it for the look of gratitude and reprieve on your face as you collapse into the chair across from him.

“Thank you for ordering for me! I’ll send you the money.” Once you catch your breath you dive into your drink, moaning aloud at the flavour in a way that has him averting his gaze and shifting in his seat. He prays you don’t notice the heat in his face as he tells you not to worry about it, Bruce can afford it anyway.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” You continue. “Apparently Red Hood and some of Two-Face’s guys got into some kind of turf war near the bank last night, and police have shut the whole block down.”

“Oh, that sucks.” He grunts, pretending like he doesn’t already know.

“Right! So annoying. Red Hood gets a pass though, 'cause he’s hot.”

Jason actually chokes on his coffee, narrowly missing you with his spray as you lean away from him. Before you can even ask if he’s okay, he’s grilling you.

“He’s hot? How do you know he’s hot? You’ve never met the guy!” It’s an instinctive response, maybe a little paranoid, and though he doesn’t mean to, he’s definitely selling some kind of jealousy angle right now.

“No, but I’ve seen him on the news, and in the papers.” You explain. “He’s got that kind of, cool, mysterious, badass thing going on, you know? With the helmet, and leather, oh and the motorbike! And the voice!”

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. If he wasn’t flustered before, he definitely is now. Some badass. “B-but you don’t know what he looks like.”

“I know he’s good-looking. ‘An I bet he’s a nice person, under all that tough guy exterior.” You state decidedly. “I feel it in my bones, and my… I’m not gonna finish that sentence.”

You both laugh, yours is more light-hearted. Like music to his heated ears. Jason feels like you reached into his chest and started tweaking at his heartstrings. He might not seem it externally, but he’s thrilled. This is a step in the right direction for your more-than-friends-not-quite-lovers-relationship, he thinks.

“I’m just saying, if the opportunity ever arose; Red Hood could get it.”

He just has to figure out what the next move is.

Roy: Prince Charming

When he’d gotten done saving your life from some back-alley thief a few nights prior, you’d thanked him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and Roy had seriously considered never washing that cheek again. But, he’d figured you wouldn’t want to kiss him ever again, hero or no if he stank. So, he’d scrubbed up and trimmed before picking up the pizza and heading to your place for your bi-weekly movie night.

When you open the door there’s a far-off look in your eye and a dreamy smile on your lips that he could certainly get used to.

“You okay?” He asks, making no attempt to hide his amusement as he stands in your kitchen, smothering his fries with ketchup and watching you stare off into space, swaying your hips like a puppy dog who can't control their tail.

“Yeah.” You answer, only half snapping back into the present moment, a sheepish, excited look on your face as you grab your share of the food and head for the couch. “I got mugged.” You call back, like it’s nothing. Playfully baiting a reaction from him that he’ll have to fake because he already knows.

“No- oh shit! Are you okay?” He leans in close as he sits beside you on the couch, pretending to examine you for injuries, but actually using it as an excuse to savour your scent.

“Yeah.” You turn to him so that your noses brush together, and he has to will himself not to blush at the proximity. You’d always had a bit of a flirtationship going, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still get under his skin when you had that tenacious look on your face. “I met the love of my life.”

“The love of your life mugged you?” He teases and you shake your head all cute and determined before leaning away to bite into your dinner.

“C’mon, who’s the lucky guy?” He goads, he has a feeling he knows where this is going, but he's trying not to get his hopes up.

You look at him like you’re thinking it over before confessing around a mouthful of food; “Arsenal.”

That’s fucking hilarious. He bites his lip to keep from laughing in your face.

“Arsenal.” He repeats. Is it hot in here? He feels exceedingly flush. “Huh, crazy.”

“Arsenal.” You say it again, this time like some Disney character swooning over their Prince Charming as you lean into his chest. It makes eating significantly harder, but he doesn’t care, lifting his arm and draping it over your shoulder, urging you closer. He’d starve it meant getting to hold you till he died. “He saved me.”

“No kidding.” You ghost a hand up and down his arm, and he enjoys the sensation too much to notice how your fingertips trace his exposed tattoos. This conversation might be the best thing that’s happened to him in ages. Second best. No, third best. Behind Lian being born and you kissing him. “But, ah, I thought I was the love of your life?”

You chew on his comeback for a minute, and he enjoys immensely how you try not to grin as your eyes dart around while you think up a response. “Guess you’ll have to share me.”

Roy Harper, share you with Arsenal? He could definitely live with that.

Wally: Fuck, marry, kill

“Okayokayokay. Fuck, marry, kill.” His words all string together in an excited jumble. He’s totally buzzing, and not from the booze. It’s never the booze, he metabolises it too fast. No, his excitement is entirely caused by you. You and your proximity, your smiling face, and your hypnotic laugh. “Nightwing, Tempest, and The Flash? Go!”

“Oh, well that entirely depends.” You reply matter-of-factly, and Wally watches admiringly as you take a sip of your drink, licking the rim when a drop spills over. Damn, he wishes you’d put your lips on him like that.

“Depends on what?” He finally asks when he remembers it’s his turn to speak, and you bite your lip for a second as if considering whether you should say what you’re about to say.

Eventually, you commit. “Are we talking Central City Flash, or Keystone?”

You watch him expectantly while he sips his own drink, waiting for his clarification. He’s glad that the difference matters to you but he can’t help challenging you, partly to keep up the clueless civilian shtick, but mostly because he wants to prolong the conversation. He wants to hear you say ‘The Flash’ a million more times. “You’re so sure they’re not the same guy? Could be running back and forth really fast. That’s his whole thing, right?”

“Nah.” You shake your head, a self-assured smile on your face. You don’t even entertain the idea, and he wonders what has you so confident but he doesn’t have to wait long to find out. “Central Flash is cool and all, but I’m in loooooove with Keystone Flash.” You giggle as you declare it.

This is brand new information to Wally, and it takes him a moment to process it. His cheeks must be as red as his suit as he watches you melt into your seat, thinking about him The Flash.

“Have you ever met the guy?” He’s pretty certain he knows the answer already.

“No.” You confess shyly, but it doesn’t stop your next, very bold statement. “He doesn’t know it yet, but we’re gonna get married one day.”

“Really?” He’s grinning from ear to ear, like the cat whose canary landed right in his bowl and started chirping ‘EAT ME! EAT ME!’

The feet of his chair scrape on the floor as he shuffles closer, and even though he’s not ‘your future husband’, you let him close the distance, happily voicing your answer to his original question and his most recent. “Yep. If it’s Keystone, can I say fuck and marry The Flash?”

“Yeah, totally, I’ll accept that answer.” Wally blurts, making no effort to hide his elation as he places his hand atop yours. “You know, I’ve been told that I’m a lot like The Flash.”

Please remember, do things that make you happy!

[skzophreniic]

Featuring: pussydrunk!chan x afab reader

Genre: smut with the tinniest of plots lol

Warnings: chris is reader's fiance, cunnilingus, semi-public sex (bathroom stall) and over all smut smutty smut.....yeah. minors do NOT interact

Notes: what i do for you guys (and myself). feedback is always appreciated! or you can hit me up and we can squeal together lol

chan is horny. like, unbelievably so.

which, in itself is incredibly inappropriate since he's currently at the work function you invited him to, in trousers that he cannot afford to have a hard-on in, but it's not his fault. how could he not be, when you're walking around the ballroom in your pretty little slip dress, hair brushed to the side, as you interacted with your coworkers. you're so graceful, so professional, so put together, so--

delectable.

he clears his throat, adjusting his pants and sitting up, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from you and back on one of your coworkers, who has been speaking to him for the past five minutes about the company's goals. he could not give less of a shit to be honest, but he's here for you, so he makes the effort, smiling and nodding when appropriate, the picture of a loving, supportive fiance.

that is, until he has your dress bunched up to your hips as gets to his knees in front of you.

he doesn't know how you two got here, just that he met your eyes over the shoulder of you blabbering coworker and suddenly, he was excusing himself, and through a flurry of movement, and mumbled apologies, you two were suddenly in the only place you could get a sliver of privacy--a bathroom stall.

"chris, my dress--" you whine when he shoves it upwards unceremoniously, forcing you to curl your fingers around the hem. "it's gonna get wrinkled and I have to give a speech later."

his deft fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and he looks up at you. "sweetheart....you know I love you, but I don't give a shit about your dress."

"we can't do this here," you protest, trying to regain some sense of composure, but your words come out in breathy whispers as his fingers trail teasingly along the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body betraying your protests.

he chuckles, keeping his eyes on yours as he litters kisses on your inner thighs. "can't we?"

your scent enveloped him, intoxicating and sweet, as his fingers deftly peeled away your panties, his gaze never leaving yours. your already wet, and normally, any other time, chan would comment on how needy you were for him, how you were already sopping and he hasn't even touched you--but today? today he was the needy one, practically drooling at the sight of you.

"so pretty, baby," it comes out in a desperate sigh. "so so pretty."

before you can respond, he is flattening his tongue across your entire vulva, dragging it up slowly. his fingers tighten around your thighs when you jump, steadying you, but also keeping you in place for him.

he can't help the groan he makes at the taste of you as he sucks on your labia, lapping up at the juices you're already releasing. "fucking made for me," his words send vibrations into your pussy in a way that makes your knees weak.

your breath hitches, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds. the last thing you need is for someone to hear you, but the way chan is devouring you makes it nearly impossible. his tongue works with an expertise that drives you wild, alternating between broad, slow strokes and quick flicks that have you teetering on the edge.

"chris," you whisper, your voice trembling. "we really... we shouldn't—"

in answer, he maneuvers one of your legs so that it's resting on his shoulder so that he can press his face further against your pussy, inhaling deeply. the world outside the stall fades away, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses becoming a distant hum as his tongue delves deeper. his fervor is almost worshipful, the way he licks and sucks at your clit with a fervent devotion, the tip of his nose brushing teasingly against your clit with every movement.

"please," you moan, your voice breaking. it's not clear what you're pleading for—more, less, for him to stop before someone finds you, or for him to never stop.

he responds with a growl, the sound vibrating through you as he doubles his efforts, alternating between gentle licks and intense suction, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling. he knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of release.

he's there when the coil in your lower belly finally snaps, tongue eagerly waiting to lap up everything you give him--and lap up he does. he is so lost in your taste, that you have to physically push him away, thighs already shaking because of the way he is overstimulating you.

he lets you push his head back by his hair, leaning his neck back to give you a perfect view of the glistening of your juices on his lips and the tip of his nose.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, a mix of nerves and disbelief at the situation you've found yourselves in. " we really need to get back to the party," you whisper, trying to regain some sense of rationality, even as your body still hums with the aftermath of his expert ministrations.

"right." he stands, helping you smooth down your dress and you up at him nervously.

"does it look okay?"

he gives you a once over, lips trembling in his effort to stop them from curling. your cheeks are flushed, dress wrinkled and he could see the fabric quiver slightly.

you groan.

"it looks awful doesn't it?"

"nah," he plants a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. "looks amazing. now how 'bout that speech, yeah?"

[tastefulstars]

And I fell, I fell

Throw together a last minute cancellation, a helpful Robin and list of questions, and you've got yourself the romance of the century.

eddie munson x f!reader

c/w: 18+ only. MDNI. smut and fluff. so much fluff. mutual pining. eddie being a cutie. no y/n. protected sex. piv. oral (f receiving). not proof read.

a/n: eddie is a hopeless, gross romantic and u cant convince me otherwise and this is 7.6k of me proving myself correct.

masterlist

Your phone ringing startles you out of your daze, making you jump slightly in your chair. Reaching for it, you don't bother to look at the caller id.

"Oh you're alive, that's nice" Robin's voice cheerfully says, you blink rapidly at your computer screen.

"Why wouldn't I be alive, Robs?"

"I dunno! Maybe because you've been MIA for the past five days!"

You can hear the frustration and concern in her voice and you immediately feel guilty. You sigh softly and rub at your eyes.

"I'm sorry, Robbie" You murmur, "Work's been a lot."

"I worry about you" She confesses, "Like, have you even been eating? Sleeping? What's so important you've got to check out for nearly a week?"

You scrunch your face up because, she's right - you've been doing the bare minimum but you weren't going to admit that.

"I'm fine, really. Just been editing a few of the interviews I did last week and then this morning I had someone bail out at the last minute so I'm trying to find a replacement to do the interview at the end of the week."

Robin hums.

"I'm coming over"

She hangs up before you have a chance to respond and you shake your head. Standing, you groan as you stretch your arms over your head before you decide to just call it a day and have a shower.

The warm water feels heavenly on your stiff body, and you let yourself relax under the spray. You're just stepping out of the shower, steam filling the room and wrapping a towel around you, when there's persistent knocking at the door.

You debate for all of three seconds on whether to answer or get dressed, ultimately deciding to let Robin in first, knowing that she'd just knock harder and louder until you did.

She pushes her way in as soon as the doors cracked open an inch, she closes the door behind her and starts pushing at your shoulders.

"Get dressed, Jesus"

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up, muttering about bossy, annoying friends. You shuffle to your room though, pulling on soft jeans and a shirt and make your way back to Robin who's curled up on the couch and cradling a can of soda in her hands.

"Alright, sit" Robin says, patting the space beside her and you throw yourself heavily down next to her, resting your cheek against her shoulder.

"You okay?" She asks, pressing her cheek against the top of your head and you nod softly because yeah, you were fine, just busy and tired and overworked. She holds the can to you and you take it, sipping at the bubbly drink. An arm wraps around your shoulder and you feel yourself go boneless against her, relaxing for the first time in days.

"Work sucks at the moment" You admit, leaning on your friend, "I've got so much to do and now I'm gonna loose the venue for Friday because the person I was interviewing cancelled on me and like, I can't afford that you know? It's expensive and I just, I don't know what I'm gonna do Robbie"

"Anything I can help with?" She asks softly, "I can't really do much for editing videos and whatever but, yeah."

You feel a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"You don't happen to want to be interviewed?" You tease, "Could start a new series where I interview my friends instead of like, famous people"

You're joking, knowing that Robin would kinda hate being in front of a camera while you ask her questions about herself but you could see it working - making it a silly little thing where you just have fun with it, rather than the serious interviews you've been stuck doing.

"God no" She laughs for a moment before pausing, "But, I could ask Eddie?"

"Hmm? What's Eddie got to do with this?"

"Eddie Munson, y'know Corroded Coffin?"

You scrunch your nose slightly, pulling back to look at her.

"You mean to tell me that your high school band friend Eddie is the same Eddie from that massively popular metal band? And don't they refuse to do interviews, like, all the time?"

"Yes and yes, it's something about wanting to focus on the music rather than them but he'd do it if I ask nicely."

You chew on your lip, considering it. It would be a massive help, having someone to actually interview and that someone being notorious for refusing to actually participate in interviews but at the same time, you don't want to put Robin out or Eddie.

"Look, I'll ask, the worst thing is he'll say no and if that's the case, I'll do the interview." She says and you feel a weight lifting off your chest, you lean back in to wrap yourself around her.

"Thanks, Robin" Your voice is muffled by her shoulder but she squeezes you back.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon watching shitty videos and snacking, and you feel more relaxed than you have in weeks. You murmur your thanks as you hug Robin goodbye and laugh softly at her stern warning of no more work today, her finger pointing at your face. You agree, considering ordering take out and having an early night.

You're wrapped up in a soft blanket on the couch, lights low and a movie you're not really watching when your phone buzzes.

Robin: Eddie's agreed to do the interview. send deets.

to Robin: You're an angel amongst men, Robin and I love you.

Robin: ur right, I am. love u 2.

You send her the address and times and thank her about five more times before you put your phone back down, and focus back on the movie and you're not too sure when your eyes slip closed and you're asleep.

The next couple of days fly by in a daze of editing and deciding the direction of the upcoming interview. You didn't want it to be stuffy, overly serious and god forbid, boring, so you pester Robin for little tidbits of information about Eddie and you find yourself racing around your apartment the morning of to get ready.

You've never really seen photos of Eddie from Band but you have seen photos and videos of Eddie from Corroded Coffin and you knew he's hot and while you didn't want to come across as unprofessional, you wanted to look good so you spend extra time styling your hair and making sure your outfit fit just right.

Loading your car up with your equipment and set-up took longer than you'd like and by the time you're pulling up to the building, you've only got thirty minutes before Eddie was due to arrive. You rush through set up and you wish you had an assistant for days like today.

A soft knock against the wall and your name being called startles you. You let out a quiet noise of surprise and whip around to see Eddie, smiling wide at your reaction, and your heart stutters. You knew he was handsome, you knew that, but the photos and videos didn't do him justice.

Tall and wrapped in black denim, cotton, silver chains and rings. His hair was curled to perfection, soft and silky, wide brown eyes and plump limps and you realize you're staring and not saying anything.

"Eddie, right?" You gesture to one of the chairs you'd set up, "Thank you so much for doing this, you and Robin have saved me a lot of grief"

He saunters over to you, smiling warmly before sitting in the chair. You almost get lost in watching him again but you force your eyes away, not wanting to be a creep.

"Ah, it's alright. Had nothing better to do today, to be honest."

And god his voice, you wanted to hear it all day. Wanted him to whisper nothings into your ear and you feel yourself flushing at the desire running through your veins.

You turn, scolding yourself for your reaction and get to work turning on the lights, camera and audio recorders.

"Still, I appreciate it. Will you be okay putting your mic on or would you like help?" You ask as you open the case, pulling out both sets of microphones.

"Hmm, might need some help"

You look over your shoulder and he's watching you intently, and you're really not sure how you're going to do this interview without coming across as desperate.

"Sure, here-" You step closer to him, holding out the microphone and wire, "This bit goes up under your shirt and clips onto your collar"

His fingers brush yours as he gently takes it from you, lifting his shirt slightly to feed the wire under it. You hold your breath and avert your eyes when you see a flash of pale skin before you do something stupid like telling him you'd like to lick him all over.

"Like this?" He asks, and you force yourself to bring your eyes down, nodding as he clips the little microphone to his shirt and smooths his hands down his chest.

"Yeah, um- I'll just clip this to your belt, if that's okay?"

He looks up at you from under his lashes and nods, smiling like he knows exactly what he's doing to you. You turn it on and see his jaw clenching in the corner of your eye as your fingers brush at his skin as you work.

"Alright. All set, I'll just finish getting ready - I'll just be a minute" You say in a rush, turning back to the table and putting your own mic on.

"No rush, honey"

And oh god, the pet name has your blood singing. Your hands shake slightly as you take a couple of deep breaths and scold yourself with a stern behave yourself, you're here for work not to hook up, he's doing you a favor so cut it out.

You shake your head slightly and move to turn on the camera. It's almost easier, looking at Eddie through the camera screen as you focus it and you suppress a shudder when you realize he's watching you closely.

You suck in a deep breath and pick up your notes, moving to sit beside him.

"Alright, you good to start?"

His smile returns and nods, shifting in his seat in order to face you. You do your intro, facing the camera and watching Eddie from your peripheral and then your turning, facing him and wanting to whine at how pretty he is. You let your work wash over you, focusing on the interview.

"Thanks for being here today, Mr. Munson. Tell me, how are you? What's been happening?"

"Eddie's fine" He says, laughing softly, "Mr. Munson is my uncle. I'm good, I'm good. Honestly? I should be working on some new songs but I'd rather not."

You nod, humming.

"Look that's fair - You used to play D&D, why?"

He looks a little surprised at your question, like he wasn't expecting anything else besides his music.

"Oh yeah I did. It was just fun, y'know? Like my friends and I got to go on epic adventures."

You try your hardest not to let the grin overtake your face but it's so, so hard.

"That's kinda nerdy but like what do I know? I make silly videos for a living. Do you still play or has that ship sailed?"

"Ah, I'd like to but I don't get as much free time these days and all my friends I play with are all over the place."

"Bummer. What's the best way to eat marshmallows?"

You keep the energy going, slinging more and more absurd questions at him without letting him gather his bearings but Eddie's grinning, enjoying the quick fire questions and your snide comments at his answers.

"Now. This is a serious question and I will judge you for your answer if it's incorrect."

He shifts, face serious and leans slightly towards you.

"Would you rather be eaten alive by a werewolf or have a vampire stick a straw in your neck and drain you like a capri-sun?"

Eddie breaks out into giggles and you feel your insides wobble and you school your features, biting your tongue and raise an eyebrow.

"Definitely being eaten alive" He wheezes between his laughter, "I might as well go all out if I'm gonna die."

You purse your slips, looking down at your notes primly.

"Correct."

Eddie laughs harder, eyes shining when you look back at him.

"Alright, last question - what's the plan for the rest of the day?"

He rubs the back of his neck, he looks at you and you think maybe there's something in his face, in his eyes as he glances at you.

"No real plans, might grab something to eat."

"Right on, free as a bird."

You close the video and slide out of your chair, turning off the camera and beginning the pack up. Your eyes flicker to Eddie and you smile softly, moving to him to help remove his mic.

"Thanks again for this, Eddie. I know you don't really do interviews much so I didn't want to make it awful for you"

His fingers find the soft skin of your wrist when he hands you the mic set, pressing against your skin.

"I had a lot of fun" His voice is low and rumbles and you feel your chest erupts with butterflies.

You shuffle back, throwing a smile over your shoulder and continue to pack away your equipment.

"Want a hand?" Eddie's says, right behind you and you can feel his warmth seeping into your back. You bite your lip.

"Nah, it's all good! It's not that much" You try to keep the tremble out of your voice, "I'll um, let you know when the video's up? It should be maybe a week or so."

You hear him inhale and then hum softly.

"Perfect."

You step around the table, putting a bit of distance between the two of you before you do something really really dumb and proposition him. Eddie shoots you a small smile, fiddling with his rings and you think he might be nervous.

"I'll, um, see you around then?" He asks, taking small steps backwards towards the door.

"Yeah, it was nice to meet you" You try to smile warmly as you say your goodbyes while all you'd like is to beg him to stay longer.

"You too, honey. I've heard a lot about you."

And then he's gone and you throw yourself down on one of the chairs, face in hands and you let out a whine.

"God damn it, Robin" You mutter before huffing and dragging yourself to load your car.

You're tired and sore when you finish unloading the car back at your apartment and you grunt as you throw yourself onto the couch, propping your feet on your coffee table.

Your phone buzzes.

Unknown Number: Hey honey, it's Eddie. I hope it's okay but I got your number from Robin.

Unknown Number: I just. I really had a good time today. I usually hate doing interviews but you made it a lot of fun.

You save his number and quickly respond, heart in your throat and fluttering in your stomach, hating how much you wanted his attention.

to Eddie: Eddie, hey! Yeah that's fine. I'm glad you had a nice time :)

Eddie: Very much so. Did you get everything packed and get home alright?

You start chewing on your lower lip as he responds almost instantly, not wanting to seem overly eager, you send a text to Robin instead.

to Robin: ROBIN what the FUCK????

Robin: ur welcome :)) he thinks ur hot btw and like ur both my friends so dont fuck it up.

to Robin: thanks!!!!! no pressure at all with that!!!!!!!!

Robin: :)

You start chewing on your thumbnail and open Eddie's messages again, responding with an affirmative and asking how his afternoon went before tossing your phone to the other side of the couch, kicking your feet.

You feel like a teenager, heart pounding and cheeks hot and chest feeling three sizes too big. You wander around your living room, shaking your hands and deciding to just go about your evening routine - making dinner and showering and watching a movie.

Your eyes drift to your phone every few minutes and you groan, giving in and picking it up.

Eddie: I ended up going straight home, been watching some of your interviews ;)

Eddie: What are you up to? Busy night?

to Eddie: Oh god, don't do that. They're all very boring.

Eddie: Ah but I get to watch a pretty lady tearing apart a bunch of dummies who don't realize they're being insulted.

Your face heats again and you place your face in your hands and let out a very embarrassing noise. You lift you head, staring at your phone and take a rough, deep breath. Eddie was going to kill you, you were sure of it.

You feel like a silly teen with a crush as you text with Eddie for the rest of the evening, his flirting making you want to screech out loud or melt or something.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach.

You're a little scared to check your phone the next morning, a whole bunch of what if's running through your mind, but a soft ding brings you out of your mind and you couldn't stop the lovesick smile if you tried.

Eddie: good morning, hope you have a good day

to Eddie: you too :)

You spend the rest of the day trying to focus on work, on finishing the editing of your previous interviews and starting on Eddies, but it's hard going when all you want to do is text the man. Taking a quick break, you lean over the bathroom sink and stare at yourself in the mirror. You frown at your reflection.

"Get your shit together" You snap at yourself, "You're not a teenager with a crush, you are a grown woman so act like it."

You sigh and pull yourself away, sitting back down at your desk.

"Alright. We've just got to finish these two interviews, we can totally do this. Totally, they're like ninety percent done already."

You nod at your pep talk and get back to work, newly found focus coasting you through the last few hours of editing for the day.

It's starting to grow dark by the time you save your work and shut down for the day. You feel lazily satisfied from finishing the task you set for yourself for the afternoon and more than ready to publish the videos and transcripts onto your social media sites. Stretching your arms above your head, you let out a soft groan as your back pops.

Picking up your phone, you bite your lip at the messages Eddie had sent you throughout the day.

Eddie: dont work too hard today but kick ass at work today

Eddie: im attempting to write new songs but i dont wanna y'know?

Eddie: i went to get groceries instead. saw a cat :)

Eddie: dont forget to eat lunch

Eddie: ok ok im gonna try to work wish me luck lol

Your stomach growls at you and you realize you did forget to eat lunch again, you groan and start dinner. Sitting on the couch with your plate, you send a message to Eddie.

to Eddie: Sorry, been pretty busy today but i managed to finish up a couple projects and im ready to start working on your interview tomorrow. Did you end up getting any writing done?

to Eddie: And what type of cat was it?

It doesn't take long before your phone is buzzing beside you.

Eddie: she lives! im glad you had a productive day, one of us needs 2 lol and u dont need to edit our interview its already perfect. I wrote like 4 lines of a song.

Eddie: i took a photo of the cat, i'll send it 2 u.

You laugh softly at his messages, his writing getting lazier the more you two talk, not that you mind. The photo comes through and you coo, the cat was incredibly fluffy and stretched out over a brick fence, fast asleep.

Your eyes burn as you look at your phone, a result from staring at a computer screen all day, so you take a deep breath and press call.

"Hey honey!" Eddie's voice filters softly through your phone, "Didn't expect a call to be honest, it was the cat right?"

You laugh and let your eyes slip closed, laying down on the couch and placing the call on speaker phone.

"Absolutely," You hum, "It has nothing to do with my eyes hurting-"

"Aw, you okay? Need anything?"

You can hear the concern in his voice and something inside you swells.

"Nah, I'm good. It's just from being on the computer all day, y'know?" You rub your eyes, "Anyway, what are you up to?"

There's a slight pause before he answers but then he's telling you that he's trying to decide on dinner, weighing up pros and cons of cooking verses ordering in and then he's launching into a tangent on life skills and capitalism.

You let his voice wash over you and you find yourself relaxing until you're almost asleep, drifting in the in-between.

"Still with me baby?" Eddie asks softly, his words not really registering but you hum at the sound of his voice, making him chuckle quietly.

"Go to bed, honey." He croons at you, "We'll talk tomorrow, alright? Dream sweet."

You sleep on the couch that night, dreaming of soft curls and warm brown eyes.

The next week passes in a blur of work, texts, calls and longing. You want to see him again, want to have his deep honey eyes on you, want to hear his voice without the filter of a phone.

You whine about it to Robin a lot, much to her amusement and annoyance.

"Just tell him you like him" She says one night as you recount the latest texting session you and Eddie had the previous day.

"Dude! No! I can't just tell him that" You feel your heart starting to race at the idea, Robin snorts.

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer" She fires back and you groan.

"Because, what if he only wants to be my friend? What if he's like this with everyone? I don't want to make a fool of myself and just because he talks to me doesn't mean he likes me, and there's also the fact that he's like, famous!"

Your words come out in a panicked rush and you breathe heavily while Robin contemplates.

"Y'know, I've been his friend for a while. I don't think I've ever seen him like this about someone, he really does like you. A lot. It's kinda gross."

Her voice is soft and kind and you feel your cheeks heat at her words.

"I don't know what you did to him at the interview but he's like, super gone for you. Pretty sure he's panicking about the same things you are, hun. Trust me when I say that Eddie's not the type of person who'd string you around like that."

"Alright, okay" You sigh, feeling better with her reassurance.

You sit on her advice for a few days, weighing up your decision, when ultimately, Eddie makes it for you.

to Eddie: Eds, I'm posting the interview video and transcripts today. Want me to tag the band's @?

Eddie: Yes, please! You're incredible.

Eddie: Would you like to go out with me? Dinner tonight?

Your heart leaps into your throat and you can't stop the childish giggles as you respond with an enthusiastic yes, yes please I would like that very much.

You don't remember doing much work, too excited about that night to focus properly but you do manage to get the video and transcript online, making sure to tag the band's socials as well as Eddies.

to Eddie: Alright, it's up. What's the dress code for tonight?

Eddie: I just saw and casual, whatever you're comfy in :)

Eddie: What's your address? I'll pick you up at 6?

You give him your address and start getting ready, wanting to look good but not wanting to look like you're trying. A very hard line to walk but you were determined to do so.

A few minutes before six, the doorbell rings and your stomach fills with butterflies. Opening the door for Eddie, your heart stops inside your chest.

He's got his hair tied up in a bun at the back of his head, a few loose curls framing his face. Black jeans and combat boots with chains hanging from the belt, and a faded, well-worn Dio shirt.

His entire face lights up when he sees you, a beaming smile gracing his lips and you're almost ready to fall to your knees and begin proclaiming your everlasting love and devotion to him.

"You look beautiful" He says in lieu of a greeting, eyes roaming your body. You bite your lip softly and his eyes darken, tracing your movement.

"Thanks" You feel almost shy, "Should we go?"

He holds his arm out for you to take and you laugh softly, pulling your door shut behind you and slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow.

He leads you to his car, opening the door for you and closing it after you. Sliding into the drivers seat, his fingers drum against the wheel as he starts the car.

"Where are you takin' me tonight?" You ask softly, turning to look at him as he drives.

"We, my dear, are going to the park"

He glances at you as he says it, the tips of his ears going pink when he realizes you're already watching him.

"The park?" You ask, surprise colouring your voice, "Thought you were taking me out to dinner."

He laughs softy and you feel like you've just won a competition, a prize.

"We're havin' dinner at the park" He beams, "I was going to take you to a restaurant but Steve said not to do that and Robin said you'd like something more personal anyway."

You honestly feel as if you could float, you scrunch your nose at the feeling.

"You talk about me to your friends, huh?" You settle for teasing, enjoying the way Eddie's ears and cheeks bloom with a blush.

"Of course I do" He admits, "I really like you"

You feel your own face heat at his admission and you inhale sharply.

“I- um. I like you, too” You stumble over your words, face flaming and chest tight.

You steadfastly look out the windscreen and miss the look Eddie throws you, like you just handed him the moon. You bite your lip when you feel fingers brush against the side of your hand and shudder when you shift, letting your fingers spread and tangle with his, your palms pressed together.

“I’m glad” He murmurs, giving your hand a soft squeeze before he huffs a laugh, “Would’a made all this kinda awkward if you didn’t.”

You glance over at him and he’s already looking at you, warm smile on his face. He winks, focuses back on the road and lets go of your hand to turn. It doesn’t take much longer for the car to slow to a stop, a comfortable silence settling over you both.

Eddie’s a whirlwind as he rushes out of the car, tripping over his feet as he races to your door before you’ve even finished undoing your seat belt. Laughter bubbles up your throat and you’re chuckling by the time he’s pulling open the door, his cheeks blushing sweetly and eyes warm.

“You’re a dork” You laugh, taking his hand as he holds it out for you, he just smiles wider.

“Y’know, I have been told that” He murmurs as he pulls you closer to him, your breath hitches, “Now. Stand there and look pretty for me while I get our picnic ready.”

You bite your lip and lean against the hood of the car, watching him as he takes out a cooler, basket, blankets and pillows out of the car and rushing back and forth to a nearby tree. It’s tall and old and he sets up the picnic between gnarled roots. Once it’s laid out to his satisfaction he moves to stand in front of you, his fingers reach out and brush against your forearm.

“Good to go?” You ask, voice barely a whisper. He nods, eyes flicking over your face and he gently takes your hand in his, leading you to the blanket.

It’s kind of perfect, honestly. Too many pillows and blankets and Eddie’s brought so much food and there’s soft drinks (I didn’t know what kind you like and I didn’t want to bring booze because I’m driving and like I didn’t want you to think - Eddie breathe).

It’s a lot perfect.

You ask each other questions, you learn anything you can (his favourite colour is, surprisingly, lavender - “it was my mom’s, she used to have this knitted cardigan with little lavender flowers all over it.”)

You talk and talk and talk and the sun slips past the horizon and washes you both in soft golden oranges and reds. You shift closer to Eddie as the night air begins to cool your skin, Eddie notices your shiver because of course he does - he wraps one of the many blankets around your shoulders, presses his body against your side.

"Eddie?" You murmur, resting your cheek onto his shoulder, the soft fabric of his shirt rubs against your cheek.

"Yeah, honey?" He's just as quiet as you, nose brushing along your hairline. Something inside you shudders and trembles before settling into a soft glowing warmth.

"Thank you" Your face turns, forehead pressing against his cheek, "This has been easily the best date I've been on."

He cups your cheek and raises your face to his, your noses brush and he holds you against him.

"Baby, I'm the one who should be thanking you," His voice is rough and sincere, his eyes boring into yours, "For even giving me a chance. For letting me text you all day, every day. For making our interview so fun."

Baby, baby, baby, the word rattles around in your brain and you think you could cry. You're not sure how you've ended up here but you are and you are so, so grateful.

"Remind me to thank Robin for suggesting I interview you." Your words brush against his lips and you're leaning in, pressing your lips against his.

Eddie doesn't hesitate, kissing you back softly, sweetly. It's perfect. The date, the kiss, him. You kiss and kiss and kiss. He keeps it soft and sweet, innocent almost, and you want and want.

You sit together, wrapped up in each other and blankets, trading little kisses until your eyes begin to droop and you're yawning more than you are kissing Eddie. He rubs his palms up and down your arms.

"C'mon, I'll take you home, sweetheart."

You let him help you up, let him guide you to the car, let him assist you into your seat. You watch as he quickly packs up the picnic and loads the car.

You watch, head turned to rest against the seat as he starts the car. You watch as his gaze drifts from the road to you every few minutes and watch his hands as they hold the wheel and you watch as he parks the car in front of your building.

He turns and watches you, watching him.

"You're really sweet, Eddie." You say softly, limbs tingling as his lips curl softly at your words, your smile turns into something more teasing, "Knew you were hot shit but sweet too? Talk about a whole package here."

Eddie's cheeks are bright red and he's pressing his lips together tightly, he shakes his head fondly.

"Bed time for you, I think," and then he's walking you to your door, warm hands holding your face and a kiss being pressed against your lips, "Goodnight baby, dream sweet."

You murmur a soft goodnight, get home safe, please let me know when you're home safe, and then you're in bed, clutching your phone and waiting for that I'm home text.

You fall asleep between one breath and the next.

You don't get to see Eddie for a while after that, but you speak everyday - all day if you can. Good morning texts and random anecdotes about your days, soft words and sweeter wishes, I miss yous and goodnights.

You're swamped with work, fielding emails because apparently you're super popular now - Eddie's video went viral and now everyone's trying to book you for interviews and the comments on every one of your social media's. It's exhausting, honestly.

You call Eddie to complain, and he coos at you, teasing you and taking your mind off the sudden explosion of work.

"That's not nice, you're mean," You pout, phone pressed against your cheek, heart fluttering at Eddie's smooth laughter.

"Thought I was sweet, baby" He teases, recalling your sleepy words on your date. You can picture his wide smile as he teases you, and you just want.

"Are you busy?" You ask on a sigh, expecting the answer to be yes - Eddie's been telling you that he's on a roll with new songs and music, said he's been inspired. "Wanna see you, like, a lot. I know it's only been a couple weeks but-"

"For you? I'm free as a bird" He sounds like an absolute angel, "Want me to come over?"

And, well. That sounds perfect.

"Please. I'll cook us dinner, if you like."

"Heaven sent, you." Eddie groans, softly. "I'll be there in like twenty minutes, baby."

It feels more like five before you're letting him into your apartment. You've barely got the door shut before his arms are wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest and holding you.

"Missed you too, baby." Eddie says into your hair, arms squeezing you softly.

You go boneless against him, stress melting away in the safe circle of Eddie's arms. Eddie presses quick kisses to your hair, forehead, temples, wherever he can reach without pulling away.

You lean back, press your lips against his and you loose yourself in the sensation of being held close and kissed by Eddie Munson.

It's nothing like the sweet kisses you shared during your date. It's a little more. More intense, more burning and has you feeling weak in the knees.

Eddie's tongue brushes against your lower lip, and your insides light up like fireworks. Your lips part on a sigh and Eddie dips his tongue inside your mouth teasingly before he pulls away. Pecking you softly and smiling at you.

"Hey"

"Hey, gorgeous girl." His eyes go soft, warm, "No stressin' about work, alright?"

You nod, step back, tug at his hand, lead him to your couch and pull him down with you. You curl into him and Eddie wraps his arms around you again.

A kiss is pressed to the top of your head.

"What do you feel like for dinner?" You ask, cheek pressed firmly against his chest. Your stomach flutters at the feel of solid muscle beneath your skin, the warmth of him, the steady rise of his breathing, the beat of his heart.

His grip on you tightens and he's pulling you down as he lays, forcing you between him and the back of the couch. One of his hands grips your waist tight and the other is gently cradling your head to his chest.

"Anything. You could make me burnt toast and I'd be the happiest person alive," You snort and he tilts your face up slightly, "I'm serious. You're amazing, you really are. And I'm not just saying that because I like you so much, well, I mean, I guess I kinda am but you know what I mean. You're so, so smart, and funny and talented and passionate and caring, charming and so beautiful."

You're shifting so you're hovering over him slightly, face inches away from his as he talks. You've never been one to associate those things about yourself but as Eddie says it, you think you believe it. Your chest feels like it's going to burst and you slide your hand up from his side, resting against his own racing heart while he continues,

"Like, I was so gone for you even before we met. Is that weird? That's weird but I would see the photos Robin would take of you when the two of you hung out and like, sure I thought you were the prettiest person I've ever seen but then she would start telling us stories about you and oh man, you were my dream girl. Absolutely. And then Robin's calling me, asking me to do you a favor? I said yes so fast she laughed at me and hung up."

You're grinning now as he talks, it's a little embarrassing but you feel happy, adored.

"And then, then I was there with you and you were even prettier in person and so goddamn funny? My heart just about gave out and -"

You cut him off by kissing him.

You both melt into it. Eddie's fingers tangling into your hair, keeping you close. You press against his chest and slide your body over his, covering him completely as you slowly run out of air. You pull away, take a deep breath and press right back in. Eddie makes a small sound at the back of his throat and the hand that's not holding your head, slides down to the small of your back, pressing and keeping you firmly against him, like you'd want to be anywhere else.

The kiss quickly heats, gets messier, desire and fire and something a whole lot like love thrum through your veins and you want and need.

You shift slightly, rocking your hips gently down and oh, oh.

Eddie groans, his hand splayed over your lower back moves, grips your ass and pulls you down to him. He rocks against you and you feel him getting hard beneath you and you're moving. Slipping off him, getting to your feet as you fist at his shirt, tugging him up with you and then you're both stumbling to your room while trying to not break the kiss and feel as much of each other as you can.

Your arm slams into the door frame and your whine is lost in Eddie's lips, his hand gently rubs at your shoulder to soothe, and then you're on your bed, Eddie on top of you and pressing you into the mattress. His hair falls around your face, curtaining you both from the outside world and making you feel like there's no one else - time slows and stops and then its you and Eddie, the last two people on the planet.

His lips travel, moving from yours and down your jaw, your neck. He leans over and presses a few quick kisses to your shoulder where you banged it before he's at your throat again, doing his best to cover you in his marks, whether it's from his lips or teeth.

You hold him close and squirm, breathing heavy through parted, kiss swollen lips. His hand slips under your shirt, fingertips gently brushing along your side and coming to rest at your waist. You whine out his name and struggle to free your legs from under him, Eddie lifts slightly and you quickly wrap your legs around his hips, locking you together.

"Eds" You breathe out as he nips at your neck, he trembles and stops, lifting his head and looking at you like you were responsible for lighting the sun and hanging the stars in the sky.

"Eds," You sigh, fingers caressing his face, "Want you."

You see his expression shudder with desire and he surges up, kissing you.

"You've got me," He says, voice rough and deep, "You got me. Wanna make you feel good, baby, can I?"

You nod and press a soft yes Eddie, yes into his lips and then you're both pulling at clothes. Slowly revealing yourselves to each other, it's slow and lazy as you both touch and look your fill with each new bit of skin shown.

Desire is under your skin, but it's simmering, a slow burn that lets you focus on sharing yourself with Eddie rather than a desperate need to be filled.

He kisses and mouths at every inch of your skin, hands touching and caressing anywhere and everywhere. You've never felt so wanted as you do right now with Eddie pressing kisses along your chest and down your torso, with his hands gently keeping you from falling apart.

He kisses his way down until he's reached the waistband of your pants, eyes flicking up to yours. You hold his face, smile, give a small nod, watch as Eddie's eyes slip closed and he presses his lips to your fingertips, you burn.

Eddie slowly shimmies you out of your pants, then his own, and you're both naked together. He sighs quietly as he kneels in between your legs, fingers skating up your calf and thigh. His eyes are darting around like he's trying to drink you in and keep you, how you are right now, burned in his memory.

You do the same.

He's lean, pale skin stretched over wiry muscles. Years of lugging heavy equipment has toned his arms, shoulders, chest. You trace one of his tattoos on his thigh, the closest you can reach without moving - there's so many more than you thought and you want to catalogue every single one, with your fingers and lips and eyes.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers.

The moment feels delicate, gentle, and loud words don't feel right. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, gently pull.

"Eddie"

You're just as quiet, his name leaving your lips on a soft breath. He leans down and softly kisses you before he's moving again, settling down between your legs and your legs shake as you feel the first press of his lips against you.

He's slow about it, running his tongue along your folds like he's got nowhere else to be. It's gentle and soft and has you quaking. You bury your fingers in his hair and Eddie's gripping your thighs, bringing you impossibly closer. He moans so quietly you would have missed it if it weren't for the vibration shooting through you and stoking the fire building under your skin.

"Eddie," You moan, tugging on his hair, "Eddie"

You chance a look at him, and your eyes almost roll back at the sight. He looks blissed out, eyes almost closed and face slack as he eats you out like you're the best damn thing he's ever tasted.

It doesn't escape your notice that he's rocking his hips down, grinding onto the mattress, and that's oh, oh that's enough.

You yank hard enough on his hair that he pulls away, his lips swollen and red, his chin and jaw covered in your slick. You twist and reach for your bedside drawer, praying you didn't forget to replace your expired condoms. You almost cheer out loud when your fingers brush one.

You kiss him as you tear it open, fingers finding Eddie's cock and rolling it on, he whines as you touch him.

Eddie guides you into laying back on the bed, settling between your legs. He's covering you completely, arms and hair surrounding you and caging you in, and he looks at you, eyes finding yours.

"Eddie"

He brushes his nose along yours. His lips gently caress your skin. He hums, and soft words are breathed into your cheek - I've got you baby, you're perfect, so perfect.

Then he's pressing inside you.

He moves slowly as he fills you, trembling moans falling from both your lips. Your eyes burn, tears stinging and you struggle to breathe. You've never felt so full, so wanted, so complete.

"Shh, darling"

He rolls his hips against yours and you cling to him, fingers digging into his arms and back.

"Eddie"

He whispers your name and begins to gently thrust into you. It's heaven. It's rapture. You've never felt so connected to another and you're sure you're seeing your death, your life. Time slips away, it's just you and him, him and you, together.

Eddie keeps the pace slow, gentle, it makes you feel wanted and adored. Desired. You rock your hips up in time with him and he groans, presses his forehead against yours.

"Baby, baby. Look at me."

He's pleading, almost begging you. Your fingers grip him tightly and put your eyes open, find his. Something ignites and you feel yourself hurtling towards your climax.

"With me," Eddie moans, hips rolling faster, "Baby. Baby. With me."

"Yeah, yeah. Eddie."

Your fingers dig harder into his back and you tremble, keeping your eyes locked on his. Fireworks explode in your nerves and you're shaking apart, whining loudly as you drown in bliss.

Eddie's hips stutter and he groans until he's stilling, panting and boneless. He's still buried inside you and he settles his weight a little more firmly on you as you share oxygen, pressed so close that you can't be sure you haven't become one - melded together and fused.

You don't burn it, but you end up having toast for dinner.

[urhoneycombwitch]

this is a left field throwback but I've been thinking about linecook!Eddie lately

I've been thinking that probably after cooking all day, he doesn't really have much energy to cook at home, which is fine except he also probably has a hard time loosening the reins when it comes to food

like I imagine he's probably grateful when reader cooks, especially if it's not something they're very used to do (as a mediocre cook myself... if it's edible, it's a success) but has to prevent himself from hovering. Reader steps away for a second and he's sneaking in for a taste test and silently sprinkles in seasonings or something and dashing away before reader comes in

I give it a few months where they sit down to eat and reader is so happy it tastes good and is so proud of themself and Eddie can't bring himself to tell the truth. There's probably a time where R says something like "I tried making that dish again at my place but it wasn't as good as when I make it here. Maybe it's because your pots are better." and Eddie's like mmm hmm that's it babe, the pots. I think he probably teaches R so they do genuinely get better at cooking but still does his secret sprinkling

Until his timing is off one day and Reader comes into the kitchen like :0! *points* my food!

I'd personally make him grovel and beg a lil for forgiveness and then make an agreement like you can teach me what you know and help but you gotta relax a little bit. I will get the spray bottle back up

baby i'm always ready to talk about linecook!Eddie it's not a throwback if he's living in my brain RENT FREE ya feel??? GOD this idea is so funny I love your brain for this idea!!!! it's so funny to me because he SO FUCKING WOULD. i'm channeling my personal awful cooking here please excuse the self indulgence-

I don't imagine linecook!Eddie is picky about his food- he grew up on boxes of Kraft mac n cheese and the best white bread that a blue collar worker could afford. but he also was naturally curious and experimentative with the food he did have (including weed-fueled creations in his later years)

so the thought of Eddie (loves to cook, but isn't generally fussy about meals) with a reader who just sucks at it (so bad. could burn water if you let them. microwaves tin foil on the regular.) is so funny.

I think he'd try his best to remain calm and collected, like, he's trained godawful newhires at work before. no way you could be any worse... right...?

smash cut to a kitchen that looks like a hurricane ripped through it. a whole roll of paper towels caught fire when you dropped it on the burner by accident and it's smoldering in the sink. there are a few cooked noodles incomprehensibly stuck to the wall. three found dead in downtown disaster.

but then there's you smiling with a steaming bowl of pasta (that word is used loosely here) beaming like you're so proud to have made Eddie something. it's the worst food he's tasted in awhile and he literally licks the bowl clean just to prove how much he loves the gesture.

i think the secret seasonings and adjustments behind your back start very naturally. just a few tweaks here and there when you're not looking. until Eddie's specifically recipe testing things that he can fix with speed and discretion.

and yeah he feels some amount of guilt about you being so proud over things you didn't actually create 80% of but hey, it's still a collaborative activity!! and plus you think the magic of your good cooking is due to the trailer kitchen so you're over here way more and Eddie's not about to fucking ruin it!!

until you catch him swapping out the charred crisp of bacon strips with some that he'd made before you came and uh oh.... game over pal. the jig is up.

Eddie's gotta explain the whole situation and while he does it kindly, he can see you're still embarrassed, so he's like Babe don't even worry about it!! I'm gonna train you like I do my newbies and you're gonna be the best cook in all of Hawkins!!

and that has you interested. coming around to the thought like Hmm... I've always wanted to learn how to julienne a carrot like you...

and Eddie says Sure babe :) internally though he's sweating. knives and fire are not on the training menu for you. the first three weeks are gonna be How to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. with a spoon.

[uhohbestie]

omahgod haaaiiii! happy three pronged fork day!

it is I, the live slug reaction microsoft paint doodles guy, here with the long promised part two, and lord mercy its been like a month,,, i've spent the past week and a half adding just-one-more-last-bit-this-time-its-the-last-one-for-sure-definitely and thinking of a new one at work the very next day,, BUT i am out of the dungeon now so here you have it!!

here's to me spending solid two months of my life pacing to and fro at work compiling mental essays and Making Up Scenarios tm with your characters and generally rotating them,,,, twas an experience for certain and i thank you for every point of psychic damage i was dealt <3

i tried every know-how i could think of to improve the resolution situation, and ended up just cutting it into pieces so im sorry if its a bit confusing to read (it's hectic but it works so i can't complain)

big picture for to know where things are

tip: you do gotta read the big picture left side (they are vaguely divided by the grey lines) top to bottom and then the right side for it to be chronological (more or less)

and the small bits for better resolution

i already wrote most of the things i had to say in the picture itself, so all i'll say is my soul yearns for pearl and lizzie (and Tilly) adventures extravaganza spinoff ): i have somehow so far convinced myself while reading that we would for sure get to see them within the fic that i had to doublecheck that i didn't miss a chapter on accident,,, oopsie

ps. this is where i would put my essay on how you've managed not only to show a character going through the 'ol stages of grief (scar when grian got bit) but also make the reader (or me at least, idk im gullible) go through them. ever since i figured out that Main Characters Don't Die at some point as a kid, i have never once sweated about "damn what if the writers actually do it this time?? what of blorbo dead foreal forever???" ,,, that was until i read TAMN. you took your SWEET TIME keeping us on scar pov for so long i sincerely started worrying that you actually did it you bastards. "no.. they wouldn't… they can't!" i thought to myself, but then the chapters went on and on, and Scar and Pops managed to almost get themselves killed yet again, adventures not showing any signs of stopping. and the pesky bristling brit, with whom i have a complicated relationship not unlike the one between a Sportsteam that sucks ass and their last remaining, bitter, but loyal shit-talking fan, is nowhere to be seen. i was head in hands sitting on the edge of my bed waxing poetics about how The Narrative forces the reader through the character's thought process and Long Live Indie Writing for being able to afford to break tropes and expectations n all that and then Grian's disHEVELED ASS ROLLS OUTA BUSHES AND I WAS LIKE i kNEW THOSE SONS A BITCHES WERE SCHEEMING, NEVER TRUST A WRITER!!! ! …i'm fairly impressionable audience if you couldn't tell

,anyhow this was one of the several bits rotating in my head for the past while, i hope you're proud of what you've accomplished -_- (/j/lh you really really should be <3) yeah anyway this is where i would put my essay on all that if i knew how to write one!

(if i open my mouth on the topic of the residents of the hermit commune we would be here all day, so all i'll say is i won't announce my descent into madness, but there will be signs)

on that note, be good be good to each other and don't forget to brush your teeth before bed

pps. i missed my duolingo writing this :( just another one of gods little jokes

ppps. i think you should poll the public someday on the subject of people's perception of Joel's fate in the end, would be curious to see how optimistic (or not) the folks are feeling

YES. YES!!!!! PART TWO OMG YOU'VE SPOILED US. YESSSSSSS.

Oh my goodness there's so much to wade into there. I was starting to pick out my favourite parts but realised i was highlighting every drawing, but here are my FAVOURITE favourites:

I love love love hearing ppl's opinions on the Redwood compound (AND POPS!!!! POPS AND SCAR BEST FRIENDS FOREVER [until... they're abruptly not anymore. um. ummmmmm....]) Poor exhausted Ren. Poor munched up Joel. Poor every-day-I'm-more-tired-than-the-last Etho. (Also, clasping your hands in mine, I promise you we will write about Pearl and Lizzie. I promise we will not leave you hanging.)

I'm genuinely truly deeply so happy you enjoyed TAMN, and absolutely adored reading (and seeing!) your journey as you read it. Especially the parts where we convincingly pulled off Grian Death(tm). Thank you for sharing with us :') aaaaa TAMN <3 <3 <3

Your poll idea is genius btw. We gotta do this. We GOTTA. - 🔒

[canonkiller]

✨ "Your online print store is broken?" FAQ

Yeah I did that: A Summary

Q: Why did you remove everything from your Redbubble / INPRNT / etc?

A: A bunch of reasons. I made the choice for myself after thinking about it for a long time and not liking it. Some of these reasons include:

I don't like not knowing the workplace conditions or compensation given to the people actually manufacturing physical goods of my work through these services

I don't like the waste of easy-to-buy, easy-to-break manufacturing or the shipping process

I personally stopped giving a shit about the potential for theft-by-loss-of-potential-profit because it made me feel like a corporation and that sucked

There is no way in hell Redbubble will ever be profitable enough to get me to overlook this, and I don't think I should try to make it so.

The ones that haven't been emptied are having login issues. I'll be killing them as soon as I am able.

Q: So what's the alternative? How can I get prints now?

A: Anyone interested in prints can just ask me for the full resolution files of whatever piece you want and I'll send them over. Then you can either use your own printer or order something from a local store / chain and tada, print made.

In the future, I'll have the files up on Ko-fi (like the Avex body pillow) as pay what you want, so you don't even have to ask. I'd still prefer if you didn't make extras to sell for your own profit, but I can't stop you.

Q: But isn't that going to lose you money?

Probably, but the $20-odd I was making across all of my merch sites was not enough to overpower my concerns listed above. Someone tossing me $5 through PWYW is already paying me more than any of those sites would pet sale (Redbubble can be adjusted higher, but the price is already so inflated), and the end result is still more affordable for the buyer.

I also want my art to be more accessible to people like me: ones who can't casually spend $30 getting a piece of paper shipped internationally, but enjoy being able to experience shapes and colors. Differences between currency conversions, payment platform options and mail access are things I don't think should create a barrier in enjoying and adding art to your space.

Q: What about the other types of merch? Like clothing?

I've been keeping an eye on secondhand gadgets and would like to one day offer on-demand items with thrifted or secondhand base materials, but this is not a priority for me at this time. You'll live without a shirt, and if you won't, try an iron on transfer or whatever the modernized equivalent is. Anything I can't find a way to make, nobody needs to buy, simple as that.

The pin-back button press calls to me like a beautiful siren but I have yet to find one that is both affordable and close to me. The grind never stops.

Q: I also have concerns about the things you mentioned and want to try and be more accessible and sustainable with my art. Is it okay if I also do this?

I don't own the concept of sending people PNGs CMYK JPGs when they ask for them and even if I did I'm sure as hell not gonna charge people for doing it. The more people turning away from mass manufacturing the better, imo.

[pokophobia]

imagine being 18 and needing a bunch of tests done because you might have an autoimmune disease 💀 #flop anyway you can support me here! any help is appreciated, prices are listed there, any questions you have send em here!: gilbertcocteaus (discord)

(i also draw nsfw/suggestive art! as long as you're over 18 i can draw your faves kissing sloppy style)

more details/a rant below the cut, i had to cut these off twitter due to the character limit and because people can't read a thread to save their lives so ... yeah lmao

those who know me know two things about me:

- i am very normal about my favorite characters

- i have weird health issues that went undiagnosed during my childhood and teen years due to what's essentially neglect

i can't walk for long periods of time, and it's gotten harder recently, i have stomach issues, difficulty breathing, joint pain, i got the whole pack! and no diagnosis other than really bad allergies.

and i've TRIED to get my family to get me to a doctor, a good one, and get me tests and whatnot, but now i am 18 and can earn my own money so i am doing just that. i fear i can't even buy shit that makes me happy now because i am busy trying to take care of my rabbit and myself, both very expensive. i am officially stopping my mental health treatment so i can save up for some tests i have to get (a tomography and blood tests, and if i can get a hold of a cardiologist i might have to get more)

and that's not counting the possibility of treatment. which i might not be able to afford anyway but we'll see! i wanna work a formal job eventually, one that gives me constant income, because commissions are unreliable no matter how HARD i work, trust me. it's never enough. lmao.

it sucks that i have to worry about this at the ripe age of 18 when i should be at the club but whatever if i have to draw until my hands fall off then so be it because i am tired of being stuck at home with barely any energy to even enjoy myself 💀 like even if i went out to have fun it'd be annoying as fuck because i'd be in pain shortly after, so why even bother lmao

i am just very annoyed man i should be buying stupid yaoi merch and going to the club and having hashtag fun BUT NO!!!! I HAVE TO WORK!!!! IT SUCKS!!!!

[s1ut4evan]

new toy - stan bowes x fem reader

*smut*

*not proofread*

Stan comes home with a new toy! Though it's not one you expect...

wattpad: s1ut4evan

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•

•

•

The warmth of my tea fogged up my glasses as I took a sip. I sat my book face down on the couch to keep its place while I tried to de-fog my lenses. Just then, headlights from a car flashed across the wall, telling me that Stan was home. I placed my glasses down next to my book before I got up to go greet him.

•

I heard the garage door open while I walked down the hallway. But I was confused...the engine of our car seemed louder. Different. Without a second thought I entered the garage and was met with a cherry red Mustang.

•

My mouth gaped open. I couldn't believe my eyes. Stan exited the vehicle revealing a huge smile on his face. "I-I.. wait.. wha- the fuck?!" was all I managed to say. "How bout her baby? What you think of our new ride?" Stan held out his arms like he was begging for a hug.

•

I placed my hand over my mouth before walking towards him. His large arms wrapped tight around me as the warmth of his kissed tapped the top of my head. Still speechless, I looked up at Stan, unable to grasp what is going on. "Hey now don't worry, we're able to afford it after all with my new promotion." he shook his head to assure me.

•

"I just can't believe..my dream car! Holy shit!" I jumped up and down like a child on Christmas morning. "You're the best baby!" I lifted my arms and placed them around Stan's neck before kissing him. I felt his hands grip my waist, "Anything for you my love."

•

All this excitement caused me to quake at my core. Stan really would do anything for me. My hand began to trace his jaw line before leading down his torso. He bit his lip while his fingers took a firm grip around my neck. "Let's break our new toy in." I said before pulling on his waist band.

•

Stan didn't hesitate as he laid me across the hood of the car. His hands traveled up my gown to caress my breasts. I gasped as he sucked on my neck while his member grew hard in his pants, pressed against my heat. I flinched as his rough fingers teased my clit through my soaked panties.

•

"Fuck yeah." he said before standing up to unbuckle his belt. I quickly slid off my panties, eager for him to enter me. My nipples shown through my thin gown, making his mouth water. Stan's eyes sparkled as I opened my legs revealing myself to him. I began sliding my fingers between my folds with a smirk on my face as I watched him struggle to get his pants off.

•

He bit his tongue before anxiously dropping them to the floor. "I've got to have a taste." Stan said while lifting my legs. He leaned down to my heat, his breath caused me to shiver before he gently licked at my bud. I rested my legs on his shoulders as he held to my thighs. His lips suctioned around my clit while his tongue lightly tapped on my sweet spot.

•

I felt myself getting close just as he pulled away. He laughed as I groaned out in frustration. "No worries pumpkin, you're getting everything you want." My cheeks turned red at those words. Stan once again lifted my legs to push them apart, placing his tip at my entrance. I pulled him in close so we were face to face.

•

We kissed heavily while he slowly entered me, allowing my walls to adjust. I gasped as his pace sped up. His pumps caused the whole car to move with each thrust. "Wait, this won't hurt the car will it?" I whispered in his ear. Stan shook his head, "No baby."

•

And with that I was all for him pounding me on top of our new "toy". I wrapped my legs around his waist for support as his pace quickened. The sweat dripped from his forehead onto mine. I started into his eyes as I felt the familiar pressure build. He held onto my waist with one hand and leaned against the car with the other.

•

"I love you baby." I whimpered before releasing on his length. "Fuck.." Stan said before pulling out and painting my stomach. He smirked, "Oh I love you too babe. Damn." he tried to catch his breath. "Now," he said, "how about we take this baby for a ride?" while lightly smacking the top of the car.

•

•

•

Allllrighty. So it's been like 2 months since I last posted. 😭 I've been in such a writing rut so I'm so so sorry if this is complete trash but I'm trying ugh. I promise I will have bigger and better things coming! Thank you all for love and support of my smut journey. 🩷

[dee-the-red-witch]

Okay, I need to be serious and put this somewhere for one because I need to let people know wtf is going on in full because it affects a lot of shit, because I need to talk about it, and because I need to figure out what I'm going to do.

The relationship with S, my now separated, still cohabitating and coparenting with former partner has been getting worse and worse. She has barely worked since January has made minimal efforts at best in helping with childcare, has borrowed over seven grand in total from myself and other sources that I know of to lose all of it in an online honeypot scheme, has as yet barely done anything to try and recover those funds and because of all of this, left me in the situation of having to drain everything from my transition gfm just to cover april's rent and some of the bills, and then left me still having to fundraise just this week to cover stuff.

On top of this she's still being inadvertently (I'm assuming) transmisogynistic on a regular basis. And refuses to learn or do any better, unless, you know, I'm actively calling her out in the middle of it, and even then it's a whole other fight, that often turns into other abuses lkke her threatening to just immediately abandon me with the kids.

I don't feel remotely safe here, i am in constant stress, I can't focus well enough to work even when I'm not being constantly interrupted for things, and financially there is no way I can keep doing all this. I'm also physically exhausted from all this plus the workout regime I'm having to pull to get down to surgery weight (though with my recovery fund getting constantly emptied, part of me is in Does It Even Matter mode, while the rest realizes that somehow a gym full of cishet people in lynnwood is somehow SAFER than here.)

I don't know what to do. I don't really have options, and i need out. Affording here on my own would be equally impossible, so forcing S out isn't really a great option. I'd need around 6k a month to cover EVERYTHING fully doing it as a business, and there just isn't enough coming in. I need help and I need options.

And I'm aware that yeah, just. A bigass rant with context missing in parts and no real call for action or anything. Mostly I want folks including customers to know what's going on. Please don't cancel existing orders, I'm still working to try and fill them. Please don't send me resource links for shelters and such. I'm not running yet. Ideally, I need an out, and a place on my own free and clear, but I don't know how to get there from here yet. And I'll update later eith specific asks for help if and when I figure out what those are. I just need folks to udnerstand that things are kinda sucking for me right now and it's going to be rather hard for a while.

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

Hey guys! So…

I wish this was just a joke, but... yeah, no, it's not.

Basically as of November last year, my seasonal role at Hampton Court ended and I started working for a call centre that's a retention line for a well-known far right centrist newspaper that shall remain nameless; the job was essentially people calling up to cancel their overpriced subscriptions and I had to try and convince them to stay. I was getting high QA scores every week, my feedback was positive, I was told I had a good softphone voice/skills etc.

Unfortunately, this newspaper is overpriced, constantly raises their subscription prices (£26 a month for digital only access... that's all I'll say) and I ended up getting a LOT of trial subscribers (people who take out £1 for 3-4 months trials and then cancel, then take out another trial etc) on the phone, a lot of rude people, and also this country has gone to shit so a lot of the elderly subscribers (the main group who read this paper) can no longer afford their subscriptions because they need to afford their heating or winter fuel allowance. I was also absent the first week of April due to a booked holiday (the only booked holiday I took) so I could do my tech week and perform in the play I was doing, and then I took the last three days of April off due to illness (the only days I've taken off for illness).

Basically I went into work on 2nd May, got pulled into a probation meeting with my team leader and one of the higher ups, they said that while my calls are great and I've clearly been making an effort (asking my TL for feedback, pushing to make sure my calls are a good length, using documents of questions/topics the TL sent me, attending extra coaching, I even did a 10-7 shift where it was literally just me and the team leader in because my entire team was off sick) my retention rate is not what they expect of me. I had a 36% retention rate in March - it dropped to 26% for April; this was not helped by reasons I've already mentioned, nor because my manager kept taking me off the retention line so I wasn't getting as many to try and increase my percentage.

So what it came down to was me being unlucky enough to get the trial subscribers on the phone pretty much - they gave me 7 days notice (meaning I still had to do an 8-4 shift on a bank holiday Monday a well as 3 10-7 shifts) and that was that. They also couldn't be bothered to send me a P45, nor to send written confirmation of the termination of my employment - and my TL literally couldn't be fucked to give me any kind of thanks on my last day despite me actually doing a very good job on the last few days I worked. So yeah, fuck them!

Obviously I'm very upset - not because I liked the job (the job sucked ass) but because I was getting paid every two weeks and getting a bonus every month, and now I don't have income so that's fucking great! I've spent the entire last two weeks looking for jobs, but so far I'm struggling because everywhere I go to apply for, they want you to have receptionist experience, two years of call centre experience etc. Indeed literally gives me nothing but childcare or agency stuff, which I can't do to myself again - I just can't.

I'm not expecting anyone to help me out, but I wanted to make this post anyway just in case. I've got a lot going on right now - personal family things I'm not allowed to talk about, my family is in the process of moving to Ireland at some point in the future (the house is bought, it's just a matter of my parents getting jobs, us packing up etc - no date has been decided yet though, could be a few months, could be a year, who knows?)

I'm not planning on going on any massive shopping sprees or buying expensive things right now but obviously there's things I've bought already coming up (eg. I already bought a VIP ticket for the Djo concert in London next month) and I still need to pay my bills.

In case anyone does have any spare change, my Ko-Fi page is HERE. I also have an Etsy store but right now the only thing it sells are some really niche basic Fred Hechinger/Joseph Quinn character themed bracelets (eg. Geta, Caracalla, Eddie Munson) - I'm hoping to put some crochet things up for sale though at some point.

But yeah...that's my update for today. Hopefully I'll find a new job soon that won't make me want to scream and give me sensory overload or burnout, so... fingers crossed.

[demilypyro]

I think the issue is that while I hate the centrist establishment with a fervor and in a perfect world I'd be more loud and proud about that, the reality is that especially as an autistic trans woman I often don't have the freedom to not perform conformity without my ability to self-determine being taken away. As much as this country supports the "good ones", the public will still turn on anyone who looks like a "bad one" without a second thought, so I can't afford to look like a bad one if I want to protect myself. And when I look in the mirror I know that's some coward bitch shit but I also know it's a battle I can't win alone, and losing it wouldn't help anyone. Shit sucks.

But yeah I could stand to be more punk.

[tams-writeblr]

Love in a hopeless Place 26

Synopsis: She was barely grown up, when she stepped into the bar that was the center of Zaun's resistance. The people she met there would forever change her life, and one of them especially. Silco x reader/OC; first-person POV; overall rating: E for Explicit; canon-compliant (though I might make a stretch on the timeline here and there to make things fit my symbolism); age gap! (younger female, older male); 9 chapters; 45k; cis female reader/POV; no beta-reader; completed Chapter ratings/warnings: G for General, no swearing just boring business stuff Wordcount: <1k Author's note: Listen, I'm an accountant myself, and this is a self insert so yeah, we need some boring business talking, okay? It's about the subtext, guys! Comments would be appreciated!

Today's music recommendation: Selena Gomez - Back to you

<- previous | next ->

Act III

Chapter I

Part 4/7

At 11 AM straight the next morning, I opened the door to Vander's realm without knocking.

Silco stood in front of the large window, eyes fixed on the lane below him.

I threw the books on his desk. "My last year's work. I don't think you need me to explain everything to you."

He turned to me over his left shoulder, so that I could only see his gleaming, deformed eye. "I want to hear it from your mouth. Why would I pay you otherwise?"

I sighed and took a seat in the chair on the side of Vander's desk. "The earnings have been mostly stable over the last twelve months. Actually, over all the years that I've worked here. It's enough to pay the two full-time workers and two to four aides, as well as me, and an average salary for the keeper. How many aides we have depends on the season. Summer and deep winter are our best months. Spring is the lowest because of the bad weather. But we have around 75 percent regular customers, so the fluctuation isn't that high. The aides only work on the weekends and if we're booked for a special event, like a birthday or stuff."

Silco didn't interrupt me once while I talked about finances some more, he only sat across from me and looked carefully as I showed him our numbers. Sometimes our glances shortly met, but there was no expression in his eyes.

"You've been doing a decent job here," he remarked as I ended my report. "I want you to continue like this. You'll manage the recruitment of workers from now on. And do something about that down in spring; we can't afford that. Ensure that the regulars keep coming, we can't risk losing those. Pretend that nothing has changed. That head-bartender - Kev - I don't like him, but he seems to do a decent job. And Mimi, she's basically part of the furniture. I want you to do everything so that they continue their work. People are used to them."

"I'm afraid we'd have to hire a new bartender anyway," I pointed out. "Vander did a huge chunk of work around the bar. To operate as before, we need another pair of hands."

Silco sucked his teeth, and I saw his brain working behind his facade. "That would leave the bar with little to no profit."

I agreed. "But I don't think you will stand behind the bar every day of the week."

"Of course not. Despite, I'm not the person, people want to see here. What are you suggesting, accountant?"

I bit the inner of my cheek, quickly weighting the possibilities. "For now, I could let the aides work under the week too. They'd earn a little more than now, but not as much as an additional member. I could ask Kev to work six days a week instead of five, for compensation, of course. And if we're still short on the Saturdays... I could hire another aide. That'd still be cheaper as one full-time power."

"No," Silco decided. "No new aide yet. You can hire new people, should the numbers go up. When we're short on staff, you and Sevika will help out."

"Sevika?", I questioned, high-pitched. "I'm pretty sure she's not who people want to see here, either."

"She can do stuff behind the scenes. Like warehouse work. And she can handle bar fights. That's her specialty, to be fair."

I leaned back into my chair and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for further instructions or questions.

He mimicked part of my gesture, but gently tapped the tips of his fingers together.

There was a moment of silence between us, as we just looked at each other.

"You don't complain about helping out, yourself?", he asked after a while.

I shrugged. "Been there, done that. When times were desperate, I did help in the past too. Not a great server, but I make a sick Long Island iced tea, if I may say so."

An actual smile crept on his face. "Hear, hear. I guess I got to try this sometime."

I batted my eyes, ignoring the warmth in my face. "Was that everything?"

Silco's elbow came on the desk, and he placed his chin on his palm. "When can we reopen?"

I shrugged as I got off the chair. "If Sevika hadn't been "Not that hard" to my staff, we'd be ready tonight. But unfortunately, Kev has a fracture in two fingers and Mini a black eye. The one aide can't stop crying. Give me a week, I take care that they're fine by then."

Silco clicked his tongue. "Fine, one week. But I want this bar open next Friday."

I nodded, neatly putting the chair back in its place. As I took my books up, he stopped me with a swift movement.

"One last thing."

I looked into his face, careful to leave a stoic expression.

"Do you still live in that dump?"

I was confused. Why would he ask that? That had nothing to do with our work. I still nodded. "Yes, and?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to know."

I went to leave, but as I opened the door, I gave him a second look. "The Landlord has remodeled the bathroom, by the way. We now have showers. And enough hot water for everyone." I didn't know why I gave him those details. Maybe to fuel his visualization.

[grimallkine]

Tfa x Tfp

(WIP 2.0) chapter 1

I desperately need a beta reader because I suck at English and constantly make grammatical mistakes. (You can comment on the mistakes you see and I will edit to correct them)

I have tried my best but every time I open the text file I write myself into a corner and get demotivated by the grammatical mistakes I make. Which is why it took this long for this to come out- that is also the reason this is so short. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

I also write on my phone so if the spacing looks weird - no it doesn't.

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁ the wip starts here▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

The sound of weapons clashing filled the air as Bumblebee maneuvered around the battlefield, in an attempt to get closer to the modified Transwarp. He had no idea what Megatron was trying to achieve through it, but considering that the second he got near it, Megatron turned his full attention towards him and started ramping up his cannon, that was enough for him to understand that whatever this Transwarp is, it's incredibly important to Megatron.

As Megatron fired a powerful shot toward Bee, Optimus fired his own weapon. The clash of energy caused by the shots colliding sent the Transwarp into a haywire state. Amidst the chaos, Bumblebee found himself pulled towards the swirling vortex. In a flash of light, he disappeared from the battlefield.

.

.

.

He came to with his back on dirt and his head aching as it tried to catch up to malfunctioning systems.

As Bumblebee slowly regained consciousness, he tried to sit up, dusting off the dirt from his chassis, noting the small wounds littered across his body, most likely remnants of the Transwarp accident. He instantly noticed that he was no longer on the battlefield and that he had no idea where he could possibly be. He found himself on the outskirts of a bizarre cityscape, filled with towering buildings and vibrant colors. His first instinct was to hide, yet upon seeing that no one was around, he decided that exploration was the best option available.

.

.

.

.

.

At the Autobots' base, everyone gathered as a sense of confusion filled the room. Everyone's attention was fixed on a screen displaying an Autobot signal on the outskirts of Detroit.

Optimus frowned and voiced his confusion, "This doesn't add up. We should have been informed if another Autobot was coming to Earth." He paused, contemplating the situation. "Could it be a trap?"

Bulkhead interjected, "Perhaps it's a crash landing caused by an encounter with a Decepticon?"

Ratchet, wearing an annoyed expression, dismissed the idea, saying, "No, that can't be the case. We would have received the signal much earlier." He studied the signal's location on the screen. "The only plausible explanation is an escaped prisoner, though even that seems unlikely considering the location."

Optimus's optics flickered with realization, and he responded, "What if the Decepticons attached a signal dampener to them? It would account for the lack of a signal until now, as well as the unusual location."

"So, what you're saying is," Bumblebee leaned forward with a smile, "we're going on a rescue mission?"

Optimus nodded in agreement. "However," he continued, "we must formulate a plan."

"What?! Why? We just need to go there, get him back and kick some Decepticon aft if they come in our way." Bumblebee made a punching motion. "Simple."

Ratchet, just as aggravated as he tends to be, interrupted Bumblebee. "An escaped prisoner is guaranteed to provoke extensive Decepticon patrols. We cannot afford to just dash in hoping to succeed," Ratchet conveyed with exasperation, as if stating the obvious.

"I mean, yeah, it's true," Bumblebee replied, his optics scanning the landscape around the signal, looking for a way to win this argument. "But we also can't leave them out here injured and defenseless. There's got to be a way we can get them back to our camp without alerting the Decepticons." He then proceeded to put a hand on his chest. "What if I just race in there, get them, and race out? I am the fastest after all." Bumblebee then made a pointing gesture at Prowl. "He can even use his ninja skills to sneak around, to make sure no Decepticons will be in the way."

"You can't just race in; what if they are bigger than you?" Interjected Ratchet before Bumblebee talked over whatever point he wanted to make. "If we have their signal, then the Decepticons have it as well. It's a race against time," stated Bumblebee, making it clear he thinks his answer is the best one.

Sari, who had been quiet the entire time, spoke up. "What if I just go with Bumblebee and heal them? Then their size wouldn't matter."

Ratchet, whose patience wore thin as they spoke with newfound intensity, said, "The possibility of either getting cornered or the Decepticons already being next to the presumed prisoner is way too high. Your idea is almost guaranteed to end in disaster."

Bumblebee, amidst their stubbornness, had a nugget of wisdom in their argument. "And we are talking about something time-sensitive. We must be there before the Decepticons. And if anything, I will be fast enough to get away from them!"

Optimus surveyed the room, the situation at hand was not something he was prepared for.But he knew that time was of the essence, and a hasty decision could lead to disaster, but leaving, what is most likely, a fellow Autobot stranded and injured was not an option either.

After a moment of contemplation, Optimus spoke, "Bumblebee, your speed can be an advantage, but we need a plan to ensure your safety." After pausing for a few seconds, before adding "Prowl, you will accompany him to scout the area and warn him of any potential threats, quietly. Sari, your healing abilities will be invaluable... stay as close to Bumblebee as you possibly can. And if anything, and I mean anything, goes wrong, you will retreat."

Prowl nodded and left to scout the general location, making sure to keep his distance.

As Bumblebee and Sari prepared to leave, Ratchet couldn't help but express his concerns once more. "Be cautious, both of you. This mission is far from straightforward. And, Bumblebee, don't underestimate the Decepticons."

Bumblebee nodded "yeah, yeah, we'll be fine Ratch. It's not the first time we'd met with them anyways"

With that Bumblebee and Sari sped off towards the mysterious location on the outskirts of Detroit. They approached cautiously, their sensors scanning for any signs of Decepticon activity.

Oddly enough, there was not a single sign of Decepticons. It was like they never realized that their autobot prisoner escaped. This set all of Prowl's red flags off, because this meant one of Theo 's: one- they didn't realize their prisoner escaped.

Or two (the most likely one)- it was indeed a trap.

Prowl decided to investigate further. That was until he got startled by the approaching bot, who had somehow managed to get close without him noticing.

The way he managed to get so close to Prowl is beyond him. One thing is clear, though - he is an Autobot; the blue optics and the insignia leave no room for doubt. Another thing made clear, which makes him question his own optics, is that the bot in front of him is certainly, without a doubt, a warframe. Towering over him, the bot looks down with skepticism, analyzing him.

Unknown to either of them, they had the same exact thoughts: "Who is this? Why is their frame like that, and why are they on Earth?"

As Bumblebee looked down on the bot that was spying on him mere seconds ago, he felt a wave of confusion hit him. The Autobot insignia being the main reason, one- he wasn't aware of a Autobot that looked even remotely like the one in front of him, and considering the fact that he has had to meet almost every single one because of his close relationship with Optimus, he would have known about a autobot that is so small. He could hide behind a bush for prime's sake!

He also looks very... odd to say the least, small, not a lot of details, long face and bright colors (he knows this statement is hypocritical).

Another question on his mind being, why spy on him at all?

Bumblebee gets taken out of his thoughts when he hears another bot nearby, they most likely came here together.

Not wanting to make a bad impression he helps the bot in front of him off the floor get up. And gets out of the hiding spot that, because of his size, didn't really do anything to hide him.

Bumblebee sees a yellow car approach, transform, and a small yellow autobot, along with a small human girl, walk towards him, but before saying anything to him, they turn the the first bot he meet and all but yell "See prowl" (huh, so the bots name is Prowl) "we told you it's gonna work out! You guys worried for nothing"

Prowl ignoring the yellow bot. Turns to tfp Bumblebee.

"How did you get here? We didn't get any sort of announcement or even a signal beforehand. You just appeared." Prowl said, stoic as always.

.: I got caught in a Transwarp accident :. Answered tfp Bumblebee, still looking around for any sort of hint that would help him pinpoint his location. Unaware of the panic his response caused the other bots. tfa Bumblebee and Prowl both felt their sparks drop, even though neither of them understood what the bot in front of them said, they both recognized the fact it was a form of morse code, the one used by bots rendered mute. Neither of them had the language module needed to decipher the code downloaded.

"..." tfa Bumblebee looked at the bot before him in complete silence for a few seconds before springing into action " So, uhh, big guy, we can't really understand you. BUT! But Ratchet will 100% understand you. We just need to return to our base."

tfp Bumblebee was a bit taken aback by the fact that the bots couldn't understand him, wasn't downloading the language module needed for this kind of morse code mandatory in the war? The mention of Ratchet left him sorely perplexed as well. What was Ratchet doing here, did he get teleported too? But, Ratchet was far away from the Transwarp when it went haywire, for him to also get teleported the warp should have had an absurd range of teleportation. Did these bots know Ratchet personally?

That would explain why they speak about him as if he is a close friend, he never heard of them though,and his team wouldn't keep an entire group of autobots being on earth a secret from him.

"Bumblebee." Said prowl, both Bumblebee's looked at him " we need to head back, and the possibility of Decepticons being present is still high, so no speeding ahead" Prowl pointed at tfa Bumblebee as he finished his sentence, oblivious to the distress he caused tfp Bee to experience.

tfp Bee gaze shifted from one bot to the other, analyzing them with a look of disbelief in his optics. The more he looked, the more he noticed the resemblance the small yellow bot had to him.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, this city looks way too advanced technologically for humans, and everything seems a bit too colorful as well. As tfp Bumblebee tried to make sense of the situation, he remembered a conversation he had with Wheeljack.

Alternate universes and the possibility of their existence.

Alternate universes, they would explain everything going on. It becomes even more plausible when considering the fact that it was a modified Transwarp, which is treasured to the point of obsession by Megatron, that had played a crucial role in his arrival. This wasn't a question of possibility by this point, but a realization…

.:Scrap, this cannot be happening:. Tfp Bumblebee let out an exasperated groan as he finished his sentence.

Tfa Bumblebee and Prowl, not understanding what Tfp Bee said, took it as a confirmation to proceed and prepared to guide Tfp Bee to their base. Prowl gestured for both Bumblebee's to follow him.

Tfp Bee, decided to play it cool for now, he could not afford to panic or draw too much attention to himself, at least until he sees the rest of the team, and judges the best course of action based on their reactions. As they made their way back to their base tfp Bumblebee observed their interactions and listened closely, noting the stark differences between himself and this version- a younger, more carefree, and, seemingly, more childlike counterpart. There was also a pang of jealousy that tfa Bee still has his voice, but he doesn't dwell on it, pushing that thought aside to focus on the task at hand.

[olderthannetfic]

Since it was brought up. Why do so many people have this weird protective boner for rich people anyway? You can't call out rich people for being completely out of touch, without someone being like "Yeah but…" I don't fucking care about the "Yeah but…" Why the fuck should I care about the feelings of a rich bitch who can live in the lap of luxury while the asses of myself, friends and family can't afford to fucking live?

Do any people out there actually unironically believe that a queer millionaire has any-fucking-thing in common with poor queer people? POC rich people with poor POC people? Those rich people don't give a shit, they care about their own richness, and then the other rich people, before they even would look at you with their ass. "But they donate money." Yeah, I too would donate if I had the money, and I got that big delicious tax-write off for it. Alas, I don't got fucking money, thanks for asking.

Some dumb rich asshole living in a fucking insane asylum looking home tells us "Get off your ass and work." while she just had someone get off in her ass. "But that isn't whar happened." Don't care, fuck rich people who think that they get to tell poor people "You choose to be poor because you don't work." don't get more respect from me.

Oh wow some chick who was raised rich made her own company by getting some of her parents money and is now even richer. Let's all clap for the "self-made" millionaire. Bet she also got a smaaaaaall loan of a million dollars. I mean, if she failed fuck all would happen because she was rich before, but come on, she's rich and famous, so she's super special. Yeah... how does that work out for people who wanna start a business who DON'T have money laying around for a little ego project?

Some rich boys get to be the star in the show "Nepo baby, when getting popped out into a rich family opens all the doors." but because they're gay and POC, we don't wanna call them out because the poor rich people might feel oppressed for being called rich nepo baby fucks being called out on their privilege.

You remember Hawaii? Who went there and bought land while the natives were still grieving? Rich assholes. Who owns land and properties on Hawaii while not being native, but then also looked all puppy dog sad asking for donations? Oh Oprah? Wow, see how much she cares about the poor POC people in Hawaii. Give back those fucking properties to the Natives. "Oh but she helped by giving 5 millions, and water and blankets." You know what else she could give? The fucking land back to the natives who need it. She and all the other fucko rich people like Bezos, for whom Hawaii is just a little holiday island. 👏Rich👏fucks👏give👏back👏the👏land👏to👏the👏Natives👏and then never come back.

Rich people fucking suck. They don't care for you, they don't care if you're "one of them", if you're not rich, you're worthless. So why the fuck do people of the middle and lower class constantly get into actual fights to play saviour for some ugly ass rich bastard who doesn't give a shit about them? We don't fucking need people who can buy and take away the lands from Natives, and we don't need nepo babies who tell us we choose to be poor.

Fuck rich people.

--

[hush-writes-preg]

I totally feel you on the job sucking your soul out. I just want to work on building a life and it feels like I have no energy to even take care of myself after work, and I hate having to have my partner remind me all the time. I just want to be able to do things i enjoy without feeling guilty for putting off the dishes.

Big hugs for you, anon. Super big hugs (if you want 'em).

I feel like I can either try to build a life I want to lead, or I can work enough to make myself semi-comfortable. It doesn't feel like I'm allowed to have both. My nesting partner is disabled and can't work (and can't get income because how could a 30-year-old possibly not be able to work if they look physically sound /s), and both of us struggle with mental health stuff. Can't afford a car or even a tiny house somewhere like so many of my peers, and it sucks. Every time my partner brings up traveling someday or the fact that we might need a new phone/monitor/etc. soonish, I feel myself die a little inside because there's no way we can afford it.

I barely touch my interests and hobbies because I feel so incredibly guilty for doing anything that's not work, and I still feel like we barely scrape by each month. It's... ugh. Yeah.

Try to be kind to yourself, anon. Do the best that you can without tearing yourself down. And hang in there. It's gotta get better someday.