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lighteyed · 10 months

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can it be easy this once? / steve harrington

summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)

unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy

It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. It’d been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately it’d felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like you’d never met a form of closeness you didn’t cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You weren’t sure, you could never tell.

The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesn’t betray much, just as he attempts to. It’s a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresser’s drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasn’t as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.

Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Don’t love anyone, don’t let anyone love you, and you won’t get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasn’t letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.

He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. “You okay? You’re quiet.” He sits up so he’s level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didn’t entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where it’s caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid he’s the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that aren’t in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You can’t be normal when he’s holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.

“I’m fine, I’m just…” You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. You’re not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And it’s not sex every single time. You drag him to see whatever’s playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when it’s just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates what’s playing. It’s nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship you’d be willing. He’d be willing. You consider it. “Nothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,” you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and it’s half-hearted and he knows it.

“What? You can sleep here, you know that,” he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, he’s so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.

“No yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,” you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.

“That Stephen King scary clown book? I’ll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you don’t get scared,” and he knows you won’t get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesn’t want to be alone. Why would you go when everything’s right here? His parents aren’t home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. “Did I- did I do something?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.

You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. “No, of course not, it’s all me, okay? I’m all sweaty and awful.”

“You look beautiful, I swear,” he squeezes your hand and you feel like you’re drowning. It’s hard to breathe, your chest tight. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can talk to me, it’s me.” He scoots closer, if that’s possible. “You’re one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.” You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.

“You do this with all your best friends?”

“Well, no, Robin wouldn’t touch me even if she didn’t like girls-“ He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.

“Steve!” You’re laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What’d you mean, then?” He’s still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You don’t know if it’s deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though he’s making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.

“I just think, I don’t know… you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

“’Course not, why, you got other plans after this?” He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.

“Steve,” you whine, “I’m so serious right now.”

“Okay, okay. No, you’re the only one for me.” He means it. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He asks you like it’s the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly he’s shitting his pants a little. He’s not sure what’d he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where he’s assuming the conversation is going. You’ve got we shouldn’t do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and he’s steeling himself for the heartbreak.

“Does it look like I am?”

“Does it look like I am?” He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. “What’s this about?”

“I just, I just think, that, you know, I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re not seeing anyone, but we’re sorta… seeing each other, yeah?” You gesture between the two of you. He nods. He’s staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. He’s still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so he’s not expecting what comes out of you next. “Shouldn’t we be, like, official, then?”

And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because he’s stupid and speechless, “Official?” And the way he says it, like it’s a curse when it’s only his disbelief that you’d want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.

He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. “Fuck, forget I said anything,” you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where you’d comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.

“Hey, wait, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that-“

“It’s fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isn’t that for you, it’s fine-“

“It is, it is-“ but you’re not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. It’s in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, “I’ll drive you home, babe, c’mon, I’ll explain everything, please-“

“I got it, it’s fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to explain, okay? I got it,” and you don’t just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steve’s heart with you.

He’s pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.

“What did you do?” She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.

“What? How do you know it was me?” He stops pacing. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

“You’ve had three shifts and she hasn’t visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didn’t do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, what’d you do?” Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.

He huffs, his hands on hips. “Maybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?”

“Definitely not,” Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.

He deflates. “Okay, it was me.”

“I know that, now continue.”

“We were, you know,” he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.

“Having sex, sure,” Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.

Steve shushes her. “I wasn’t trying to say it so loud.”

“Having sex,” Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steve’s exasperated expression, “continue.”

“Well, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course I’m not, because, you know, I’m into her, obviously, so I told her I wasn’t, and she said she wasn’t, so she said maybe we should be official.” Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still can’t believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he could’ve said to make you understand.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? She’s all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. “But when she said it I just couldn’t get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasn’t answered the phone which, yes, I’ve been calling, and I don’t know how to do this.” He’d never been good at school but he knew he’d get a Grade A in Pitiful.

“Do what? Tell a girl you love her? You’ve been in relationships before, Steve.”

“I know, but…” he sighs. “I’m different now, like, it’s not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want to get hurt, it’s like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasn’t as good as I could have been, and I don’t want to break anything, I don’t want it to get fucked up, because it’ll be my fault, and I can’t do that again. Not to her.” He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. “I’m a little… I’m a little in love with her, I think.” This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. He’s gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and it’s scary. He hasn’t said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought he’d never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?

“A little bit?” Robin teases, but it’s all love for him, truly.

“Alright, a lot in love,” he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. “I still don’t know how to do this, though. Not anymore.”

“Come on!” Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using those…” she pauses for a beat and then, “charms,” the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, “on tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!”

“When did any of those charms,” he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, “work aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?”

“You might not be sixteen anymore but you’re still an idiot, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t but thank you for the encouragement.”

“I’m just saying!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. “Putting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you can’t let that stop you. You’d actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because you’d go insane. It’s not like what you did was all that bad anyway.”

“You really think so?” He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isn’t a totally awful and irredeemable person. It’s easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.

“You’ve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. She’s definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think it’ll all be okay, Steve, I swear.” Robin can’t take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once. “So do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,” she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Right, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,” he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. “Maybe you could just call her first and ask-“

“Steve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!” She throws her magazine at him. “She said she wants to be with you, go be with her!”

“Alright, alright!” He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. There’s still three hours left of their shift.

You’re in your room wallowing, or doing what’d you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You haven’t touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didn’t feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if you’d just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldn’t control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.

It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steve’s old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. “I am ridiculous,” you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.

You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he can’t anymore. He’s not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. “Did you- did you just run here from work?” You ask him, but he’s already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isn’t enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. It’s hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. “Where’s your car-“

“Forget that for a sec,” he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. “Just, just tell me if we do this it’ll be okay, and we won’t be terrible for each other, and we’ll be good,” because he needs to hear it, even if it’s ridiculous and he’s jinxing it before it’s begun he needs to know you’re right there with him. “Like, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. ‘Cause I love you. I do. And I want this.” And you get it. He’s letting you get it. He’s letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that he’s the first one to say those words. That you hadn’t even said them when you posed your first question. But he’s saying them out loud and it’s brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.

It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. “Fuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy I’ve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?” He smiles. He glows. It’s so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.

When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what he’s sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.

#IM JUST GONNA POST THIS NOW BECAUSE I WANTED TO WRITE SMUT BUT I KEEP DELETING IT AND IF I DONT JUST POST AS IS IM GONNA END UP NEVER POSTIN #i feel like the ending is rushed but otherwise i did enjoy writing this immensely!#love you guys<3333 #i will write smut one day but not today i guess! i’m literally at work rn too soo #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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playername-player-of-games · 10 months

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More of @chrisrin‘s gemcyt au :D part 2 to this!

Earth is…different.

It’s been raining for three days, (at least that’s what Etho called it, back when they landed). Three days of rain, no light from this system’s sun. Outside is reflecting how he feels inside, gray and storming and he’s-

He’s never going to see his diamond again.

It’s fine. That’s fine. He doesn’t think about it. He can’t think about it, not when it makes him feel like he’s raining.

He’s thinking about it.

She was beautiful, graceful- let him speak and laughed at his jokes. She complimented his fighting, thanked him when he helped her with even the smallest things- things he shouldn’t have been thanked for, in all honesty, like opening doors, or turning off the lights.

Stars, he’s really never going to see her again.

He curls further into himself. He’d reformed with a hooded cloak this time, the desire to hide manifesting physically as soon as he’d Reformed on the ship. He’d had to Reform twice, the first he did himself, without Etho saying he could. He’d been poofed immediately and whisked back into a drawer for what felt like centuries.

After they made it outside, he was allowed to Reform after the ship took off again. Etho said his hair turned black.

He doesn’t know what Etho’s talking about. He can see it, when he looks up at his fringe. It’s a darker green now.

It doesn’t matter. He’s never going to see his diamond again.

“Pearl?” Etho sing songs, footsteps crunching across the dirt of the kindergarten, “Peaaarl, you in here?”

Pearl stuck himself into one of the many gem-shaped holes in the wall, pressed as far back as he could manage, grateful his cloak is dark enough to blend in with the walls, “Go away, Etho.”

“I brought some friends,” Etho says, his face popping into view as he leans over the opening, setting down an oil lamp to light up the space, “you up for some chitchat?”

Pearl tugs his hood down. “Not really.”

“They’re nice, I promise,” Etho assures him, “they’re some of Impulse’s friends! Impulse was nice, right?”

“I guess.”

Impulse was nice, Etho’s right. Their little tour of Earth’s Gem Base had been brief but informative, with a few landmarks. Impulse’s forge. A warp pad. A crash site. Then Pearl got overwhelmed and ran, warping at random and landing in a kindergarten. Nobody came after him.

Until now.

“Do you wanna come out?” Etho asks.

“Not really.”

Etho laughs, “fair enough,” and disappears.

New footsteps- Pearl catches a flash of green and blue outside.

“I brought an aquamarine and a peridot,” Etho explains, voice louder now that he’s further away from the opening, “Grian and Mumbo. They want to talk to you about stuff.”

“Goodie.”

Etho bids him goodbye, and leaves. Then the aquamarine pushes his way into the hole, with a wide, one-eyed grin. There’s more than enough room for the two of them and all the rain water he’s bringing in here, but Pearl curls further into himself anyway.

“You’re Pink Diamond’s pearl,” remarks the aquamarine.

Pearl bristles, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

The aquamarine waves him off, “specifics don’t matter. All that matters is whether or not you’d like to overthrow the diamonds.”

Pearl freezes.

“Grian!” The peridot- Mumbo- scolds, “you can’t just say that!”

“Well, why not?” Grian turns around, his wings nearly whacking Pearl in the face, “it’s not like he can say no, if he goes back to Homeworld he’ll be shattered.”

They dissolve into bickering. Pearl doesn’t care. He can’t hear them.

Overthrow the diamonds.

It’s treason. Rebellion. He’s suddenly connecting dots he didn’t realize were there- the crash site. A hidden warp pad. So, so many mismatched gems living together in an uncharted, unregulated base. Not being allowed to Reform on the ship.

Oh stars- what has he gotten himself into?

The aquamarine yelps and disappears with a poof- Mumbo catches him, flustered when Pearl rushes past him, sword in hand, back to the warp pad, back to the warp, to warp, warp warp warp warp warp-

A blinding flash of light- he stumbles off the pad and falls to his knees.

Rebellion. Treason.

If he goes back to Homeworld, he’ll be shattered.

He’s being shattered right now, he thinks- that’s the only way he can think to explain this feeling. He’s being crushed, turned inside out, trying to reform in a place that’s too small. He shouldn’t be here- he’s raining- he should have stayed on Homeworld, should have let himself be-

Someone is humming.

He freezes. He’s good at this- disappearing into the background. He’s nothing. An accessory, a set piece.

He lifts his head.

They’re hovering over a lake (he hadn’t realized he’d warped to a lake), twisting in a way that looks like a dance, something bright and cloud-like in their arms. Something about their posture is familiar- friendly. Pearl pushes himself to his feet- his knees trembling, and forces himself forward.

One foot in front of the other. He makes out features- wings made of water. A bouquet of roses and sunflowers and little red things. Too big to be an aquamarine- a lapis? His gem a little to the left of where Pearl’s is, on his chest, right over where a human heart would be.

His humming has turned to singing. Pearl stops on the bank- he knows this lapis. This was one of the messengers, they used to talk all the time.

What is he doing on Earth?

The lapis bends over, dropping petals into the water, and notices Pearl with barely more than a glance.

“Oh, hello! You’re n-” he does a double take, eyes wide, his smile fond and familiar as if he remembers Pearl too, “you’re Pink Diamond’s pearl!”

This is the same lapis. The one he used to tease and trip in the hallways. They’d salute to each other- then to their diamond- then drop form and laugh. They made jokes- they called each other names and playful insults and make faces at each other when the diamonds weren’t looking. This lapis is- is like home, even after he disappeared for a hundred years without explanation- and he’s here right in front of him. Pearl feels like he’s being shattered all over again.

“Was,” he corrects, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

Lapis comes to hover in front of him, holding his bouquet. Pearl does not meet his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I uhm-” Pearl pulls his hood down over his eyes, “I fused with her.”

“Oh.”

Raindrops drip down his cheeks- he reaches up to wipe them away, turns his head to the sky and wonders how they’re getting on him if his hood is up. The sky is clear. Lapis lands in front of him, wings disappearing, his mouth a worried line.

“Why is it raining on my face?” Pearl whispers.

Lapis smiles, quiet, warm, and gently pulls Pearl’s hood down to rest on his shoulders, “you’re crying.”

Pearl sniffles, “what does that mean?”

“It means your eyes are making rain on your face,” he explains, still gentle. He tucks a little yellow rose over Pearl’s ear.

“How do I make it stop?”

“It’ll stop on its own, eventually.”

Pearl wipes his eyes on his sleeves. He feels exposed without his hood.

“Lapis-“

“Jimmy.”

Pearl makes a face, “what?”

“My name is Jimmy.”

Pearl scoffs, furiously wiping his eyes again, “what is with you Earth gems and your weird names.”

Jimmy laughs, moving to sit next to Pearl and tugging him down with him, “who have you met?”

“Impulse,” Pearl says, “which sounds dumb, and Mumbo, which sounds dumber, and Grian which sounds like grain!”

Jimmy laughs and nods again, “that’s us.”

“Stupid,” Pearl snaps. He needs his eyes to stop raining now.

“Would you like an earth name?” Jimmy asks, and Pearl scoffs at him again.

His first thought is no, he doesn’t want one. But then he remembers treason, and he remembers rebellion, and he remembers that he’ll be shattered if he goes back to Homeworld, and he thinks of making fun of long winded messages from important gems and making faces at each other behind the Diamond’s backs.

Surely naming himself isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done.

“Maybe.”

“Go on then,” Jimmy says, nudging him with his shoulder. “There’s lots of things to choose from.”

And there are a lot of things to choose from.

He likes the J from Jimmy’s name- it’s a good sounds- he just doesn’t know what comes after it. He looks around for inspiration. Jake isnt right. Jloud sounds weird, and so does Jeaf.

He takes a rose from Jimmy’s bouquet and twirls it around in his fingers- he can’t name himself Jasper, even though he’s off color he wouldn’t ever name himself after another gem. He can’t call himself Jimmy either, because then he’d be naming himself Pearl all over again and that’d just lead to problems.

He thinks further back- Impulse was showing him something at camp. Barrels of something called oil- the stuff in the lamp. Stuff for cooking. It’s stuff that helps other stuff work like it’s supposed to. He figures that’s a good a thing as any.

“Joil.”

“Joil?” Jimmy dissolves into laughter.

“Wha- hey, it’s not like it’s better than Jimmy!”

“No, no, it’s worse!”

Pearl growls at him, trying to be upset, but the way Jimmy is doubled over, cracking up, makes it hard to keep a smile off his face.

“Oh-kay, it’s bad,” he admits, trying and failing in the not laughing department, “but do you have a better idea, oh great Jim?”

“Maybe,” Jimmy straightens, smiling wide, “‘Joil’s’ a bit awkward to say, is all. Why not try Joel?”

He’s gotta admit that is easier to say.

“That’s fine,” Joel says. “You can call me that.”

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Joel,” Jimmy says, ever smiling, “welcome to Earth.”

#there’s gonna be a part 3 and then I’ll be done for a while probably #this is such a fun au !! I’m going on the hunt for other peoples fics now :3 #Joel is goin through it. the next one will be fun lol #gemcyt #sorry for two pings in one day waugh I saw an ask u answered where u wanted to be mentioned if someone writes a fic?? so. uh #hiii. sorry. don’t mind me sksjdjd

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goldenappledelicious · 3 months

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Really interested in the Charming parents relationship with their kids in terms of Apple and Darling relationship. Because the thing is, while I’ve seen a lot of takes where the Charming parents react negatively or still hold up Daring as the golden child, I’m personally of the opinion that they are far more destiny oriented. If Destiny says Darling is Apple’s prince, then they’ll accept it, even if they’re a bit confused.

The thing is, at least from how I interpreted Darlings book, she never read as the unfavorite the way Dexter did, though I know some people interpret them as treated similarly. She kept all her knightly interests pretty tight lipped and generally acted like they thought she should. Not the Golden Child or the Scapegoat, just a generally positive middle ground.

I also think the kiss reveal really hurts Daring place as the Golden Child of the trio. I think King & Queen Charming would definitely view it as a failure on Daring’s part. That he must have done something wrong or something must be wrong with him to cause him to fail at what should’ve been his destiny. Their favoritism is distinctly based on Daring being the perfect Prince Charming and if he can’t even do the one thing they think he was meant to do, then clearly he isn’t actually that perfect.

And while I don’t think Darling would just become the new Golden Child, I do think they focus most of their attention solely on her now. She’s the one with the ultimate Charming Destiny after all while Daring failed his and Dexter’s is still unknown. Clearly that must mean she’s the best of the kids. How the Beast reveal would go, I’m still debating. On one hand, Daring is still the true love of an important Princess, but the beast very much Does Not fit the values of a Prince Charming.

#one day I’m gonna write a whole thing about the complex gender roles of EAH #rewatching Dragon Games and thinking about that family #I just have seen a lot of posts and fics that seem to still have Daring as the unquestioned favorite after dragon games #and with what we’ve seen of the charming parents in the side stories #I just can’t imagine they’d simply be chill with daring losing his destiny like that #that would heavily affect their view of him in my opinion #EAH #ever after high #daring charming #darling charming

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self-spaghettification · 22 days

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SBCW 2 Day 1: Pieces

And just like that, the mirror fell to pieces, an ear splitting cacophony of glass shards ringing out.

…Audible even in the dizzy rush of the switch of consciousness.

It was over, and everyone was satisfied enough with his stuttered reassurances of wellbeing to leave him alone for now.

Callum crouched down to examine a shard, seeing his own face in the reflections, broken and distorted and …wrong. Like the way Callum felt after he had regained control of his own body- strangely disconnected from his own limbs, his own vocal cords- I have no voice, yet I must scream.

Rayla and Ezran and Soren all looked at him differently after that too, concerned, but afraid. He couldn’t blame them, either. He wished he could just tell them he’d never say any of that to them, that it wasn’t true, but it wouldn’t matter.

It wasn’t fair. He had spent so long chasing magic, chasing freedom, and after all the hard choices and refusal…and with everything with Rayla it felt like magic was the only constant that had been there for him and now…

He had no idea what to do now. He had no idea how to contact Aaravos, how to get him out of his head, if he would come back at any moment. Breathe, just breathe, Callum. It’ll be ok.

How much longer could he keep telling himself that?

This mirror was supposed to be something key.

The key… Harrow had given it to him. He was destined for magic.

That was supposed to be a good thing. He could help people. He was a mage. But now… the words just felt sour and sick.

He would never even know the primal sources well if not for Aaravos’s key. This whole time he had been pursuing magic from someone who would do… this?

He was useless…powerless…even more so than when… when he wasn’t good at anything. For a moment, part of him wished he had never picked up that primal stone. Was it better to be good at nothing at all than to be destined for evil? He honestly… didn’t know.

No, no. Bad thought. If he could just…. Avoid dark magic, that should be enough, right?

The thought felt hollow after this, like Aaravos had taken it from him too.

He blinked tight, and seared in his eyes was the way it felt for foreign magic to be forced through them, for them to shine as his body was brought to a bow. Haunting even his eyes at rest, he forced them open once again.

He picked up a shard, holding it tight in his hand, catching his likeness in the now hollowed glass. Despite everything, it was still…him.

A broken reflection, how more fitting could it be? He thought he had known who he was, had finally started to heal and then just… there she was.

Only with this, it’s not like he could just pick up the pieces and try again. It had seemed so solid and yet…One petty flourish and the mirror had fallen to pieces. What last tap would it take for Callum to break?

Rivulets ran crimson down his wrist, absentminded and unwittingly holding a broken piece so tight it hurt him, and yet… he just couldn’t let go.

There was no second guessing it. He couldn’t let this happen to him again. Whatever it took, he refused to let himself be someone he couldn’t. To lose control like that again. He looked away, but the question had already slithered in— Just what exactly would it take?

—

Thanks 2 @parroset for beta/feedback bc I was convinced this was garbage but maybe it is. Decent? anyway I have barely any experience writing Callum so we learn as we go fr🙏

#sorry this is late I have been so busy but I’m gonna catch up now hooweee #hekwnehdjejwjw #Day 2 will be up later!#snake boi Callum #snake boi callum week #snake boi callum week 2.0 #sbcw 2.0 #tdp fic #the dragon prince #the media analysis hyperfixation shines in this tbh. the motifs and metaphors.#y’all are lucky this isn’t one of the Angstier ideas I came up with while brainstorming #bc I’m not personally attached to Rayllum/main trio and it could’ve been so much worse #aarachat Knows LMAOAOAOAO #but this is canon compliant at least. so coolio #yipeee for participating in a fandom eventtttt #my writing

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padfoot-lupin77 · 4 days

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I’m sorry but we were told that ghosts can’t feel humans upon touching them, and then repeatedly shown ghosts hugging each other. And you expect me not to conclude that ghosts can feel each other perfectly fine?

Also while writing this I realized that in that scene towards the end where Crystal hugs Edwin and he says “again, a handshake would suffice”, he couldn’t feel the hug, he was just annoyed (not really)

#I saw someone saying how it’s funny that the entire dead boy detectives fandom ignores the ‘ghosts can’t feel’ thing and I thought to add #add my reasoning there #they can feel other ghosts. I’m like 100% sure of it it’s canon in my head #now go hug and maybe also kiss #one day soon I’m gonna write a fic but that day is not today gonna go back to reading history now #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #edwin payne #charles rowland

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kingofanemptyworld · 18 days

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anyone else enamored by the thought of Ichigo learning Spanish because of Grimmjow or is that just me

#king’s court #bleach #grimmichi #my fic #I have zero clue why it’s necessary for the residents of Hueco Mundo to be Spanish themed #and it doubly makes no sense to me that they all know Spanish but also just apparently speak Japanese #languages in anime are weird #but I’m happy to take advantage of that for the sake of these two idiots inadvertently romancing one another #anyway I’m still chipping away at the ‘through no fault of his own Ichigo seduces Grimmjow into changing sides’ fic #hopefully I get somewhere with it #just gonna try to keep writing even a little bit each day

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thecowboykatsuki-anon · 1 year

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There’s simply no reason that your ex should look so good pinning you up against the bathroom wall in your favorite bar, with your boyfriend somewhere just outside.

No reason that dark cowboy hat should offset his icy blue eyes so well while he’s glaring down at you, no reason he should smell so good when he’s leaning down to press hot open mouthed kisses along your throat and shoulder.

And no reason his voice should be affecting you the way it is when he rasps out that he knows you’re thinking about him when you’re with your new boyfriend, his teeth scraping over your skin and threatening to leave a mark.

No reason at all.

#I’m gonna turn this into a real fic one day #this is 10000% based on Morgan wallens new song: Thinkin About Me #I love me toxic ex cowboy touya #so much #mha #cowboy anon writes #t writes #thecowboyanon writes #dabi #cowboy au #touya #reader x dabi #dabi x reader #touya x reader #cowboy! touya #cowboy! dabi #TW: cheating

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quicklyshinycollectorfan · 3 months

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Moonwater idea:

Regulus and Sirius make up and start being more present in eachother’s lives(yay!)

Because of that, each of their group of friends start interacting more

One day, Sirius sees Regulus and Remus talking excitedly with eachother about a book they both like and BAM

He’s hit with one of the best ideas he ever had

What if… he set them up?

On his mind he thinks it’s perfect. Remus and Regulus have lots of things in common, Sirius loves them both, they would be very happy together and… they could go in double dates (you can decide with who he’s with, but I like to imagine it’s Gideon Prewett)

So Sirius recruits James and Peter to the operation “Romulus”

(“Wait” Peter says “Shouldn’t it be ‘Remulus’ then? Where did that ‘o’ came from?

“No, it’s ‘Romulus’. You know, because of ‘Remus and Romulus’”

“Are you sure of it, mate? That doesn’t make a lot of sense” James questions.

“Yeah” Peter agrees “Wouldn’t ‘Moonsekeer’ make more sense?”

“Ohh, that’s a very pretty name, Wormy”

“Right? Feels romantic”

“No, it’s my brother, my operation, so I decide the name and it’s ‘Romulus’”

“But-“

“‘Romulus”)

Anyway, the plan to get Remus and Regulus together starts and it’s very much on the style of those old movies of kids trying to set their parents up

(Tell me that Lindsay Lohan in The Parent Trap doesn’t remind you of Sirius. I dare you)

Anyway, the plan is in motion, but what they don’t know it’s that Remus and Regulus already like eachother, but are afraid that if they act upon this feelings they are going to ruin the growing friendship they have with eachother and their relationship with Sirius

Shenanigans happen, going from the basic ‘lock them up together in a room’ to ‘accidentally destroying a horcrux’ and yet, nothing of them getting together (well, a kiss happened, but they don’t know that happened, so the ‘Romulus’ group don’t think any progress was made)

It all cames to a lovely conclusion with baby Harry(yeah, they took THAT long to get together, but to be honest, they had to stop Voldy, so it kinda took some time of the planning) being the responsible for them to finally admit their feelings and start dating

(Harry was well rewarded with position of ring bearer in the wedding, along with baby Luna being the flower girl and his godfather eternal gratitude)

#regulus black #remus lupin #moonwater #moonsekeer #marauders #fic #fic ideas #sirius black #black brothers #i love this ship so much #I also love the black brothers #when you try to set up your brother and your friend and end up in a journey to kill a dark lord #baby harry and baby luna are awesome #I love them #I honestly get so happy when I see them in a fic #had this idea and it wouldn’t let me rest until I had written it down #you know #maybe I’m gonna write this fic one day

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collectivecloseness · 6 months

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Oohh for the spotify thing, how about 20 with Eddie Munson??

Literally a great pick, and again another on my character playlist for this specific person. It’s Cherry Bomb by The Runaways!

Eddie Munson x reader

Eddie always drove you back after school, no matter if you were going to his place, yours, or anywhere else in Hawkins. Walking hand in hand with you through the corridors as you both chucked your bags in his van and managed to leave that shithole behind, and go somewhere for the rest of the day no one would bother Eddie, or the both of you.

Today Eddie had finished taking you out for a milkshake, conveniently the both of you taking long enough to finish that by the time you got back to Eddie’s trailer, you’d both be able to say a quick bye to Wayne before his shift, and it meant you had the entire place to yourselves. As you did most evenings... and nights when you could find an excuse, or sneak out.

Although you had to pick up some stuff from your place before you could go over to Eddie’s, so he was driving there first. Hoping that you’d both stop off at another perfect time, one where there was already food on the table, that your mom always encouraged Eddie to have some of.

He really did like your mom, mostly at first because she always liked him too. She never treated him differently, or bad, even from the start. She literally welcomed Eddie into her home with open arms, giving him a hug that first time she met him, probably because of how much you’d raved about how wonderful Eddie was before.

And Eddie was pestering you about if you knew what your mom was making tonight, and if she might have already made it by the time they get there, when it reminded you of something you forgot to tell Eddie this morning.

“Oh actually, my mom and I were talking about you last night.” You nodded from the passenger seat.

Eddie stopped asking about food, intrigued, turning to you with an expression that was inviting into a full conversation, interested as he let his eyes go back to the road. “Oh yeah? What about? Can your mom not stop complimenting me and going on about how you’ve got such a bitchin’ boyfriend?” Eddie rolled the last couple of words off his tongue, holding it at the base of his open mouth as he beamed at you, head exaggeratedly bent down to tilt up at you, chuckling at your earned laugh.

“No!” You retort smiling. “She said that earlier.”

“Ohhhh, of course!” Eddie beamed, going along with your ‘very serious’ nods. “My apologies. Why were you talking about me?”

“We were listening to a song in the car and she said it remained her of you. And to be honest I totally agree.” You explain, already sensing the eager interest arising in your boyfriend, who would be bouncing in his seat the whole journey if you kept it from him.

“Ooooh, what is it!?” Eddie says excitedly, licking his lips as his eyes flit between you and the road, tapping his fingers on his wheel, almost like a subconscious drumroll. “Holy Diver? Enter Sandman? Please tell me you finally showed her some real Ozzy.”

Instead of answering, you move your hand and eject the tape currently playing Seek & Destroy, letting it fall to his dashboard as you rummage inside your bag by your feet.

Only when you ejected Eddie’s tape, in the middle of a song, a genuine pout spread across Eddie’s poor face. “Heyyy wha- wait.” He whined pitifully, and you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, at his genuine big brown eyes.

He literally repeated that song twice in the 11 minutes to the milkshake place. “Eddie.” Is all you say, your hand down your bag, just looking at him. And he gets over it real quick. Shuffling up in his seat, attentive as you pulled a blank tape out, and slotted it into place, interested to hear what song was about to start playing.

‘Cherry Bomb’ by The Runaways hadn’t been exactly what he was expecting.

You looked to him as it started playing, noticing he wasn’t shocked, or upset, or ecstatic, he was genuinely thinking about it. His eyes looking up at he tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat, before looking at you.

“Really?” He says genuinely, taking it in, considering it, and wanting your thoughts on it too, as he thinks more about it, already knowing the song of course. He did like it.

“Yeah actually, I think it does fit your...” you gesture Eddie up and down with your hand, looking at him, and remembering as you listened to the song yesterday you thought all about Eddie Munson “-well, you.”

“Huh.” Eddie nods, nibbling his lip as he nods slightly to the song. “I see it actually.”

“Yeah.” You add quietly, both of you starting to properly nod to the song now. And when Eddie turns to you, cracking a smile, you know he’s about to sing, and knowing him so well, you join in at the exact same time.

“I’m the fox you’ve been waitin’ for!!”

You both burst into laughs, the excited and sudden unison so you two, singing it to each other dramatically, before beginning to rock in your seats. Smiling as you sing the popular song together.

“-Hello mom! I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch- cherry bomb!”

You both exclaim the words, the energy in the van always this high.

“Hello world, I’m your wild girl!”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the ‘wild’ part, and you remember just how ‘him’ this song sometimes feels.

“Yeah. It is you, this song. You’re my wild girl.” You tell Eddie, smiling entrancingly at him, your baby girl, and Eddie very quickly plays along.

“You’re my wild girl.” He says himself leaning in all teasing and mushy to tell you, before you do the exact same thing. Both repeating the words “You’re my wild girl”, “No you’re my wild girl” to each other over and over, until you both pull back from where your lips are extended comically and gushily at each other, laughing too breathlessly from the pose for anyone to repeat the joke.

Before you both end up joining in the song again, quick to make sure you can get to the chorus.

“-ausin’ teenage blues. GET DOWN LADIES, you got nothing to lose!”

You both sing the lyrics loudly and pumped with each other, jamming out together like you often do in his van, and practically anywhere Eddie or you can have music.

“Hello daddy, hello mom!-“

You started the next line, but Eddie instead chose not to ch-ch- with you, and turn to ask you openly. “Hey! Maybe that’s how I should announce myself to your parents when I walk into their home real soon. With the cherry bomb part and everything!” He suggests, a casually serious look on his face as commitment to the bit saying it, but his deep brown eyes sparkling with playfulness.

“Oh yeah. That’ll go over radically.” You both nod in comical agreement, like you’re making fun of middle aged men in a business meeting. And you even manage to throw a thumbs up and a solid wink to Eddie, that he replies with a twisted lipped confident smile, and the okay signal with his free hand. Both throwing out “yeah’s” back and forth to each other, in agreement of this excellent plan.

Although as the next part of the song comes on, one bit is dropped for another for Eddie, as you both listen to the chorus of moans playing in the song.

And as you wonder why Eddie was turning to you yet again, and without singing, he quickly outdid you on the jesting scale.

“Your mom wasn’t reminded of me with the moaning part of the song right?” Eddie asked you, as if he was shocked at the sudden thought she’d overheard anything, but not even bothering to hide his grin.

You slap his shoulder, laughing as he lets one out himself, punching his elbow lightly, just pretending he was ‘saved’ because he was driving, even as you chuckled, shaking your head ‘disapprovingly’ at Eddie with a smile. Which was not a rarity.

Eddie gestured with his hand out as if he had a point, still smirking. “I mean it’s not like anyone’s heard us when you always make us both be so quiet when we’re up there-“ another whack, this time to his knee, cutting him off short.

And you snort laugh first, rolling your eyes at him as Eddie smirks at his suggestive quip. Although beaming with full teeth at you, proud to hear that noise meaning he made you laugh so. And God if you can’t just beam yourself, seeing that stupid smile on his face.

There’s a singular moan before the start of the next verse, and this time Eddie wasn’t quiet listening for it. Instead he leant in close to you, and moaned in time with the song, breathy and sensual and overdramatic in your face.

This time your hand is in his face, pushing him back as Eddie laughs into your palm and spread fingers, his soft skin, pliable lips, and warm breath teasing you, although being teased himself as you pulled away.

Chuckling, you brought your knees up in your seat, feeling your heart race as it so often did, even though you’d been dating Eddie for a while now, he still found ways to make you fall in love over and over. Actually, you don’t think that ever stopped happening.

And at seeing your curled up, excited and chuckling expression, and after he knew his flirting made you feel good, as always, Eddie winks at you, open mouthed smirking, his tongue on his bottom lip.

God your boyfriend was so hot. You admired his body, and hair, and clothes, and his shining personality next to you right now, feeling your blood rush through your body as you let yourself flutter with how extraordinary you knew Eddie was. You were so lucky.

“I’ll give ya something to live for” Eddie sings beautifully to you, before taking your chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking at you for the moment as he sings, shaking your chin lightly. “Have ya and grab ya, till you’re sore!” He squeezes your chin, with his teasing, scrunched smirk.

You giggle in his hold, your whole face lighting up as you love the atmosphere you always have with Eddie. Smirking right back at his perfect face. Not batting him away this time.

Until Eddie lets go himself, leaning over your lap with his arm stretched in his leather jacket, quickly opening the glove compartment by you, to show you his assortment of lollipops he keeps in there just for you. Ever since you two started dating.

You gasp excitedly, mouth open with a beam and thrilled eyes at Eddie! Leaning in to grab a cherry one for him and you, quickly taking off the easy slip wrapping, and popping yours into your mouth, relishing over the cherry flavour gushing over your tastebuds and cheeks.

At the same time leaning Eddie’s cherry lolly over to him, and giggling as he waggles his tongue out, and eventually wraps it around the cherry lollipop, his tongue flicking wetly against the tip of your thumb in amusement.

Taking the sweet red treat into his mouth, lolling it into the corner of his cheek, as he smirks at you. His mouth finally silent, except for breathy laughs that are so Eddie, but his eyes saying it all, glowing and sparkling just so unbelievably in love with you.

Eddie unable to stop stealing glances of you in his passenger seat, as you both speed off down the Hawkins road. Head banging together, especially with Eddie’s shaggy mullet, to the guitar, drums, and last yells of “Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb! Cherry bomb!”

#guys I swear I’m not making these up the numbers all match thank god I’ve been obsessed with my character playlists this year lmao #great choices!#also I know enter sandman was 91 but it’s maybe my fav Metallica song forgive me for inc it lol #as a note this plot was either gonna be this or Eddie in a v 80s cherry bomb crop top #ONE DAY I will write Steve and Eddie properly into a crop top it is an important mission in my life #but another plot I had for a rq has someone in an outfit to do with the song #these r definitely turning into more like fics not blurbs sorry hope that’s okay lmao #Eddie Munson/reader #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson blurb #stranger things #my fics #ask #anon #2k

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