#while working full time at the furniture store

[tiedyeflannels]

Red String Theory

Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 1.2k

Genre: established relationship, fluff

A/N: 'Sup! I thought I would take a quick break from Tae's series so I could write this fic for the man, the myth, the Moon that's coming home next month! She's kind of short, but I hope you enjoy!!

“Hey, Y/n/n,” Jin spoke, making me turn my head in his direction.

We were sitting on the couch together just watching the TV while taking a break from moving furniture. I raised my eyebrows and hummed to let him know to continue.

“I’ve got a question.”

I shifted toward him a little and put my legs across his. 

“Shoot,” I said, looking at him with full focus on what he was going to ask.

He looked down at my hands before pointing to my wrists, “Your bracelets. What are their meanings?”

A confused smile appeared on my lips, “What? My bracelets?”

He nodded, “Mhmm! You wear them all the time and never take them off, so what’s their story?”

I chuckled at the question, but nodded all the same.

“Okay, um…” I lifted up my right arm and spread the bracelets one wasn’t overlapping another.

“So these are just hair ties,” I said, stretching the two black bands wrapped around my wrist then letting them snap back.

“This one,” I pointed to a string friendship bracelet with different colors of blue, green and grays, “was given to me by a friend in college during a club we went to together.”

Then I pointed to the last one, which was a small silver bracelet with tiny diamonds spaced throughout.

“And this one’s obviously the one you gave me for our first anniversary.”

He smiled, “And that’s obviously my favorite one out of all of them! What about those?”

Just like I did before, I moved the bracelets making sure that they don’t overlap.

“These are just more friendship bracelets from some of the club members,” I pointed to two braided strings that were made up of three different colors each that were tied around my wrist.

 “And this one was made by my high school best friend,” I said, pulling apart the magnets then putting them back together.

I nodded at my finished explanation before Jim hooked a finger under the little red string around wrist.

“What about this one, hmm?”

I looked at him with a smile, “Have you heard of the ‘Red String Theory’?"

He shook his head at the question.

“So there was a TikTok that I had watched a while back and it was of this girl who was telling a story. So she was saying how she had seen something about the ‘red string theory’ and that it reminded her of something that had happened at her work. She worked at a store and this couple comes in and are trying things on and she’s smiling at their interaction because she thinks they’re cute.

“When they were ready, they went up to pay and then left the store. After they left, she saw something on the ground which happened to be a red bracelet-”

“No,” he gasped, fully immersed in the story.

I laughed, “Yes! She noticed that it was the same one the guy was wearing too. She thought that they would come back for it, so she put it in a drawer and forgot about it… until the next day,” I led on.

He simply nodded, urging me to go on.

“The girl that was with the guy the other day had come in asking if there was a red bracelet here. The cashier said yes and went to fish it out of the drawer, but while doing that she noticed the new ring on her finger and asked her about it. The girl had the biggest smile on her face and said that she couldn’t talk about it because it had just happened, but thanked for the bracelet and the ‘congratulations’ she received before leaving the store.

“After that happened, she had searched up what the theory was and decided to wear one too. And she was wearing it for a few months, until she had started talking to a guy- I can’t remember if it was an old friend or someone new, but anyway- one day she was hanging out with her, now, boyfriend when she realized it fell off, making her wholeheartedly believe in the theory.”

“You didn’t explain what the theory was,” he said as I was just about to keep talking.

“I was just about to get to that,” I nudged him in feigned annoyance which made him chuckle.

“Sorry! Please continue,” he gestured.

I huffed.

“Anyway! It’s believed, in some cultures, that when people are fated to be soulmates there’s an invisible red string that ties them together. So if you wear a red bracelet and meet someone, then it’s supposed to fall off if they’re your soulmate,” I finished.

“Couldn’t that all chalk up to coincidence though,” Jin questioned, eyebrows furrowed. 

I shrugged, “Maybe so, but I’m a hopeless romantic so things like this or fate were always things that I loved which is why I started wearing one.”

“So then this,” he pulled at the red string bracelet, “Has never fallen off?” 

I looked down at the string and let out a chuckle before raising my head to look at Jin again.

“Actually, this is a different bracelet. The first one I started wearing after I watched the video fell off when we met.”

“WHAT?!” I nodded, biting back a smile, “Mhm, it was after that fateful day you spilled coffee on my jacket, invited me to eat to make up for it, then we spent the whole day walking around and talking.” 

I happily sighed at the memory, “I got home and realized that my bracelet wasn’t on my wrist anymore, but I didn’t really think anything of it because I had been wearing it for a long time until you texted me later that night to ask if we could go on a proper date… And now, here we are,” I gestured around our apartment.

He nodded, “Ah… so you wear that like a keepsake?”

I snapped my fingers and pointed at him, “Exactly! It reminds me of you and that day so I tend to look at it whenever I’m feeling down!”

He hummed before he looked at his own wrist, “Maybe I should wear one, too, so we could match.”

I chuckled, “Sure, come with me.”

I got up and took Jin’s hand, pulling him along to the kitchen where some of the moving boxes were. I dug through a few as Jin took a seat on a stool, then I found my embroidery string and took out the red one along with a pair of scissors.

Walking over to where he was sitting and taking a seat too, I had him hold out his wrist while I unwound the string, wrapped it around and tied it before cutting off the excess material.

“Tada,” I cheered, placing the items in my hands on the table.

“Hey Y/n,” Jin started and I turned to look at him, humming in question.

He grabbed both of my hands, “I’m really happy that we share this string.”

He kissed the top of my head as we sat in a peaceful silence and looked around at the piles of unopened boxes and half moved furniture in our new apartment.

Knowing what he meant by that statement, I rested my head on his shoulder and happily sighed.

“Me too, Jin.”

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bangtan #bts #bts fanfic #bts x you #bangtan sonyeondan #jin x reader #bts jin #jin #kim seokjin #kim seokjin fanfic

[jilyandbambi]

so a Yellowjackets AU where mari says something to get herself kicked out of the cabin, and she dies of exposure and gets eaten at the bachanalian banquet instead of Jackie, who LIVES, who's there at Shauna's side when she goes into labor, stroking her hair and letting Shauna squeeze her hand hard enough to sprain her fingers, who keeps Shauna calm enough she has a (comparatively!!!!!!) easier delivery, who is the reason the(ir) baby lives.

who finally, after months of feeling adrift and useless because she’s not a hunter or a butcher or a prophet or a captain (anymore) finds her purpose in the wilderness. who painstaking sews patchwork baby onesies and cloth diapers from the girls' spare clothes (Offerings, not donations). who makes a baby sling from animal pelts and backpack straps. who makes a rattle from sticks and pinecones and some light blue pebbles Jackie found by the lake one day and saved. who makes sure the cabin stays warm and clean for Luke Dylan (from 90210--they couldn't decide whether to go with the actor or the character).

who builds them another shelter from blankets and animal hides after the cabin burns down. who keeps shauna and their baby warm through that first terrible winter and the one that followed.

and one day in 1998, Canadian forest rangers happen upon that American high school soccer team that went missing 2 years back. they find a group of starving teens and a baby, a little over a year old, two of the girls wrapped around him--and each other

and when the rescue team tries to separate them the one with tangled, golden brown hair bears her teeth and Growls

#yellowjackets #shaunajackie #yellowjackets au #premise up for adoption bc Im too busy to do anything more with this #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #in my head: they go back and live at jackie's house #it's bigger + Jackie's family has the $$ to keep reporters off their property so the girls are safer there #when it’s discovered that jeff is the father. jeff--who was raised right--starts going to school part time #while working full time at the furniture store #soon becoming assistant manager #jackie's parents BEG her to go to rutgers. not to give up her future for a baby that's not even hers #that belongs to the bf and bff who BETRAYED her no less #(jackie stops talking to them for a month. not for bringing up the cheating thing) #(for daring to say that LD isnt hers' too) #jackie does eventually go to Rutgers though #but not bc her mom promises to stop giving shauna a hard time #she decides to go when Shauna finally tells her about applying to Brown and getting her acceptance letter days before they left #they never would've been roommates at Rutgers. she isn't leaving Shauna behind. she never has #shauna makes a joke about having a hot meal ready every day when jackie comes home #jeff saves up enough money for a dowm payment for a nice house with a lawn and a yard #for him shauna&jackie and the baby--BECAUSE HE WAS RAISED RIGHT #he and jackie build a backuard playset for Luke (Dylan's his middle name. It's also Jeffs mothers maiden name it all worked out) #yes sometimes they have threesomes #no Randy. Jeff's NOT going to talk about it w you #(he was raised right!!!!!) #a few years down the line Shauna gets pregnant again #all 3 of their parents' heads tilt to the side #but they keep it amongs themselves so they can keep seeing Luke and baby Callie #little house in the wilderness au

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

Boyfriend is to Husband

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: How would Miguel react if you did the “calling my bf my husband” trend? 🤔

content warning: It gets a little suggestive, but other than that, it’s fluff fluff fluff. There are short mentions of food, but nothing too crazy. The Miguel in here is also not Spiderman. Just a little guy.

credit for art and dividers: Me! and @kimjiho1 (plus another person for the gif divider, if this is yours, lmk!)

a/n: This will be apart of a series called The Trendy Couple! This is the first installment ☝🏾😌. I’m not sure how long the series will be, but right now it’s just based off of cute couple's trends. My fyp has suffered trying to do research for this…

word count: 2.2k

I use the word "buggy" in here. Buggy = shopping cart or trolley. I'm southern so buggy just rolls off the tongue. ❤︎ Plus, it sounds cute!

You and Miguel have been out since 8 am running errands and grabbing supplies to fill up the new apartment. 

After a year of your dresser being full of his sweatpants and hoodies and his furniture hosting several of your blankets, his fridge being stocked of your favorite fruits and your shower caddy holding his body care, you both decided it was best to live together. 

Towel sets, bed sheets, comforters, silverware, curtains. This was only the tip of what you and Miguel had managed to stuff inside the car.

After hitting five shops just that morning, you opted to stay in the car while Miguel went and handled a pickup order from the hardware store. It was getting closer to lunchtime and you didn’t want to become irritable because of the long lines. 

To pass the time, you decided to scroll on TikTok, watching video after video, reacting to each accordingly. 

First, it was chatty kitties begging for food. Then, it was edits of hot wrestlers. Next, it was ramen recipes to cook at 2am. There were even a couple of NPC lives even though the trend was nearly dying at this point. 

Finally, you scrolled to a video hosting a girl and her boyfriend huddled together in a car over the console.

She’s leaned up against him, her smile beaming, “Today I’m going to be guessing my husband’s favorite things!”

“I’m not your husband,” are the words that shoot from her boyfriend’s mouth, fast as lightning. Cold. Unkind. Callous. 

You watch as the girl’s smile drops and the video cuts, her laughing out of shock beforehand, evidence of her trying to stamp out her embarrassment. 

You watch more as his grin widens and she gives him this awkward glance. 

“Not yet,” he adds, seeing how quiet she was. 

The video ends with her jumping at him playfully, trying to play the situation of. 

“Jesus,” you sigh, mouth turned sideways as you pause the video and open up the comments. Thousands of people were telling her to dump him, others questioning why he would say what he said in the way that he did. 

Your heart went out to the girl who clearly wanted to do a harmless joke that completely backfired. 

You liked a comment about this being a possible red flag. Although he could have responded that way because he wasn’t ready for marriage, his response was so quick and distant that it was like he was disgusted at the possibility of being with her that long. 

After working yourself up by scrolling through the comments, you decide to go even further by pressing the “calling my boyfriend ‘husband’” search at the top. 

There were so many stitches to the original video with people giving their own thoughts about the situation. Some people were proclaimed dating coaches, others psychologists, and a few influencers. 

You even see a follow up video from the original couple with the guy giving a shitty excuse as to why he was so quick in his response. 

“Yeah right,” you mumble, watching the girl snicker at her boyfriend’s pouts. You agree with the comments that his response makes the original video even worse. 

Still scrolling down, you find another video featuring a new couple. 

They’re at a table eating donut holes out of a hat, and when the girl calls her boyfriend “husband”, the guy’s entire body lights up. He’s grinning, cheeks rosy, and can’t stop staring back at his girlfriend. 

From there, you were able to see countless other couples with cute videos, all of the guys radiating at the word “husband.”

Biting your lip, you wondered how Miguel would react if you called him your husband. 

You loved him with all of your heart and you were sure that he loved you. You guys are literally moving into an apartment together. But the thought of him being unsettled by you calling him your husband weighed on you. 

Just as you were deep in your thoughts, you heard a knock near the trunk of the car startling you. Looking up in the rearview mirror, you see Miguel standing with a few bags and wood planks in his hands. You reach over and press a button to pop open the trunk. 

“Got everything?” you ask, turning to watch as he drops items in the back. 

“Yeah, I think so. Although there was almost a brawl over some potted plants,” he said. “Some older lady just came up to this guy and snatched his monsteras.” 

“What?” you respond, watching as he closed the trunk and walked around to the driver's seat. “Out of his hands or the buggy?”

Miguel laughed, both recalling the scene and finding your terms adorable. “She just came up and snatched it out of the cart while he was waiting at the end of the line. She swore that she saw it first.”

You listened to him retell the story, hand under your chin as you leaned closer. He was cute, lilt in his voice to make an impression of the plant thief. Thinking to yourself that you liked this little moment of playfulness, you take your phone out to record. 

Placing your phone in a case attached to the dashboard, you smile at the camera while Miguel’s still going. 

“‘You youngins think the world owes you everything, and that’s just not the case!’ And the poor guy is standing there going ‘ma’am, I just want my plant back.’ He looked so distressed.”

“I would be too! A random lady just shopped from my buggy. It’s like, why are you this close to me to see what I’m trying to buy?”

Miguel turns the car on and buckles up. “It started to escalate when the lady’s friend came over. Then there were two shrill voices fussing at this guy.”

He started to back the car out of the parking spot, hand behind your seat and head turned towards the back window. 

You slowly glanced at his arm, eyes tracing a vein up his shirt. 

Too bad you were in a car right now or else you’d let his arm wrap around you elsewhere. 

You tune back into his words, silently scolding yourself for letting something so simple get you to fold. 

“Luckily, I was able to calm them both down. All it took was me showing them some dasheen leaves,” he said, driving the car closer to the exit of the parking lot. 

You came to a conclusion. There was no better time than the present. 

“Aw, look at my husband. Saving the day with his genius,” you say, hand reaching out to pat his chest. 

Then you feel your body jerk to the right. The seat belt tightens as the car jerkingly swerves in between two parking spaces. 

You stare in a panic at Miguel who puts the car in park and turns his entire body towards you. 

“What did you just call me?” he asks, eyes searching yours, a little startled but mostly hopeful. 

You decide to keep the charades going, “I was just praising my husband for stopping the creation of another Karen video. Why did you turn the car like that?” You’re still looking at him as if he has two heads. 

“You just-!” Miguel takes your hands into his and places his forehead on his fists. “Baby, you know what you just said.” 

You laugh, a little giddy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Miguel leans back against his seat and closes his eyes, reaching down to take his seatbelt off. His eyebrows scrunch up as he brings your hand to his chest, “Feel my heartbeat.”

Your mouth drops as you feel his heart rattling against his chest. He really wasn’t being dramatic. 

“Baby look at me,” you grab his hands and hold them tight. “You did a good job today.”

His breath stopped, as he looked at you. His face was tinted from the whole fiasco. 

“Husband.”

Miguel’s entire body slumped as he grinned wide. He nearly jumped over the console to sag his body onto yours. 

His shoulders were shaking and you heard his laugh muffled by your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and make a face at the camera. 

“What’s up, Mig?” you say, trying to get him to talk. 

He mumbled into your clothes, shoulders still shaking. 

“I can’t hear you, you gotta sit up.”

He sits up and sniffles, turning his head toward the backseat. 

Looking at his profile you can see a few streaks down his face. 

“Are you crying?” you ask, turning his face towards yours. 

Miguel swipes his wrist across his cheeks, “Stop, this is extremely embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not! I promise it’s not,” you say, rubbing your thumb across his ear. “Talk to me.”

He chuckled, eyes looking down, “It just feels really good to know that you think of me that way. We don’t have to ever cross that line, but one day, if you would like, we can make that title true.”

“Is this a pre-proposal?” you ask, heartbeat in your ears. You went out on a limb to follow a trend, not knowing how it would end. Now you’re staring at Miguel’s flushed face with his heart pouring out into your lap. 

“Maybe,” he whispered, grabbing your hands. “Possibly a promise for what could be.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin, “Can I know what could be right now?”

“And expose my plans? Not a chance,” Miguel smirked. “Besides, a husband knows what’s best for his partner, right?”

“He does,” you quip, rubbing your hand in a circle on his chest. “He also apparently forgets that SUVs can flip very easily.”

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he says, looking sheepishly at the placement of the car. “Did I startle you?”

You just giggle at his concern and give him a quick peck on the mouth. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that big of a reaction.”

“How would you react if I casually called you forever mine? While driving!”

“Go 90 in a 70,” you joke. “Maybe pull over and do a little more than make out.” You rub your hand down his chest, and squeeze playfully at his pec. 

Miguel stared back at you, body instantly reacting to the shift in conversation. “We can actually do that right now.”

He leaned forward and brought your lips to his. You could taste the mint from the gum he had earlier, humming when he pushed further into your mouth. 

He started to reach for your hips, ready to pull you over onto his lap. 

Your stomach let out a loud grumble, making you jump. 

“Ok, let’s try this again after we get you some food,” Miguel says, plastering kisses on your face. 

The day moves on smoothly with Miguel not letting you out of his sight, hands itching to hold you in some way. 

He also never lets the husband thing go. 

As you’re ordering lunch, “One lemonade for my baby. And a water with lemon for me, the husband.”

As you stop in a clothing store at the mall for a small break, “These say boyfriend jeans. Do they have any husband jeans?”

As you’re trying to reach the top shelf to grab the last of your favorite detergent, “No, cariño. Let your husband get it for you.”

As you’re looking for throw pillows and towel sets for the apartment, “You think they have a couple’s set? I want something that says ‘Mr.’ on it.”

As you stop at a gift store, looking for something extra to give to the movers, “Look, this shirt says it’s made of ‘hubby material.’ Should I get it?”

This feeling is only amplified when you post his initial reaction online. The comments were full of people yearning to be in your predicament. 

“If my boyfriend doesn’t crash the car when I call him husband, THROW HIM AWAY. 😒”

“Does he have a brother….asking for a friend”

“I needed this after the “I’m not your husband” he in LOVE”

“If your bf doesn’t cry at the thought of you, what are you doing”

“He was blushing HARRRRD 😭😭😭”

“So when’s the wedding? 🤨”

“He was literally cheesing and crying omg”

“Get you a man that stops the car to declare his love”

“What if I did a five mile marathon on i-55”

“He’s so in love with you that it’s palpable”

“He was ready do a lot more than make out 😭”

Miguel saw most things, a little embarrassed but mostly happy that so many people found him to be genuine. 

You laid on his shoulder as he checked the comments, liking the funny ones as they passed by.

“Do you want to make a response video?” you say, liking a comment going ‘he’s a good man, Savannah.’

“No, I think this is enough,” he replies, handing the phone back to you. “Let me keep a little mystery. At least until I actually propose, of course.”

You looked at him with stars in your eyes.

“A mysterious husband. I kind of like the sound of that,” you say, wrapping your body around his side. “Maybe I can be nosy, find out his secrets.”

“I bet you would, cariño,” he voiced, nuzzling his chin on top of your head. “After, everything is planned and done.”

You laughed and snuggled closer, happy to be with him.

Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading! ❣️

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

I'm excited for the future of this series and I hope you guys are too. When I finish the series masterlist, I'll link it here. If you guys have any trends that you want me to include, then just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

- Lauro ♡

#love lab fics 🧫 #husband jeans 👖 #The Trendy Couple 💟 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x gn!reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #spider man 2099 #nerdy?miguel idk #soft miggy 🥺 #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction

[incorrectbatfam]

If the batfam had tiktok what would they post? What would go the most viral?

Dick does duets where he remixes people who have bad takes. His most viewed one is turning Lex Luthor's corporate monologue into a dubstep track with beat drops every time Superman is mentioned. Equally popular is his mashup of Bruce's yawning with a Sam Smith song.

Jason makes cooking videos. The recipes are normal, but the voiceovers like, "today I'm making a realistic animal-themed vegan bento box 'cause I wanna torment my brother." His most popular video is of him shit-talking Batman while making a pot roast, but it gets deleted because he didn't say "unalive."

Tim does behind-the-scenes videos of his photoshoots where he makes it seem like a complex process with dimmed lights and glitter falling from a ceiling fan, then it cuts to a blurry iPhone pic of a pissed-off Jason with sparkly hair chasing him down a dark hallway.

Damian's is a mix of animal videos, art tutorials, Cheese Viking speedruns, and classical covers of anime intros. But his most popular one is recording his family's reaction to him saying the fuck-word for the first time. He also has a series where he asks people how babies are made to see whose response TikTok takes down first.

Duke posts subtle and wholesome pranks, like leaving Tooth Fairy money under the older batkids' pillows or gradually filling Kate's purse with Jolly Ranchers. His most popular series is when he slowly replaced Damian's furniture with increasingly smaller replicas until the 8th day when Damian finally notices.

Steph does a little bit of everything and often takes suggestions (re: dumb dares) from the comments. Her account started with her just sharing her favorite memes, but her most popular video is when she slept in a bathtub full of Mardi Gras necklaces after an audience poll.

Cass normally posts a mix of dance covers and sign language lessons, but occasionally there will be moments from her daily life that she captures at the right time. Her most viral video is at the grocery store when someone accidentally knocks a coconut onto the ground and she follows it as it rolls to the other end of the store.

Harper and Cullen do a lot of backyard science experiments where they take hypotheses from comments and test them out, like if they can cook steak with firecrackers or make a trampoline out of rubber bands. Their biggest project was turning an abandoned pool into a frog sanctuary.

Barbara keeps most of her daily videos private and her public ones are mainly book hauls, song recs, and computer tips. Her most popular video, even making news articles, is a video where she breaks down how planned obsolesce works and calling out big tech companies.

Bruce has a secret account that no one knows about. He doesn't post anything. He just lurks because he wants to be the first like and comment whenever his kids post.

#dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #duke thomas #signal #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #orphan #bluebird #cullen row #barbara gordon #oracle #harper row #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #batfam #batboys #batbros #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics

[inourtownofhawkins]

Babe, wake up, new prompt coming!

I found this cute image on Pinterest and it had me thinking: what if reader spends a whole afternoon crafting these little messages and then she sneakily hides them around Eddie's stuff. Every time he finds one, goes to reader and gives her a kiss, then stores it in a tin box 🩷💋

𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼

Summary: You make love letters for Eddie.

Author's note: Mea I'm so sorry it took me forever to write this request! I hope you enjoy it! Also thank you to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple, @ryan-waddell11 and @orchidmunson for their endless encouragement <3

CW: None, just a whole lotta fluff and Eddie being a dork.

Word count: 1.2k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

Being at Eddie’s apartment alone while he was away working wasn’t an uncommon thing for either of you, he had given you a key to his apartment for a reason, after all. Although you two hadn’t made the full step of moving in together yet, you still spent a lot of time at his apartment whenever you could fit it into your schedule.

You were sat at Eddie’s kitchen table with every kind of stationary imaginable scattered all around you; every shade of pink and white paper, felt tip pens, glitter and endless amounts of glue.

Since Eddie’s phone had broken several days beforehand and he was far too busy with work and couldn’t fit it within budget for the month to get it fixed, you decided to make love notes for him to read every day. You made notes for every occasion; if he felt sad, if he did something amazing, he missed you or even just needed to be told he was loved.

Although your arts and crafts skills weren’t perfect and you ended up with far too much glitter and glue all over your fingers, you were still proud of the notes you were able to make. You knew your art teacher from primary school would be proud of what you’d made, even if when you had lessons with her she hated your guts.

You had almost finished the final note and put them in a jar by the time Eddie walked inside, you felt him gently scratch the top of your head before wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Well this is a nice surprise to come home to.”

You felt the warm burn inside your stomach as you squeezed his arm, happy to be back where you felt like you belonged. “I missed you, of course I’d be here.”

It had only been a couple of days since you last saw each other, but it always felt like an eternity. Being with Eddie was the only place you truly felt safe, it was like coming home every time he brought you into his arms.

Before you and Eddie had gotten together; you’d never believed in that kind of stuff, that home could be a person instead of a place and you thought the people who said that stuff were talking nonsense. But now you understood them, and you just had to wait to find your person.

Eddie glanced over at the mess on the kitchen table, not daring to touch anything with his dirty fingers from working on cars all day. “Whatcha doing here, princess?”

You leaned into him, rubbing his arm with your hand. “It’s a surprise.”

He placed a hand over his eyes once you revealed it was a surprise. “I’m not looking, I swear!” he moved away from you, keeping his hand over his eyes, causing you to laugh. “I’m gonna go have a shower, you wanna order a pizza?”

“Sure,” you answered through your continued laughter as Eddie felt around his apartment to get to the bathroom, hitting his feet and legs on various pieces of furniture along the way. Your boyfriend was an absolute dork, but you loved it far too much, although you knew he acted like that just to make you laugh and he couldn’t ever get enough of that laugh.

You waited until he was safely in the shower to finish the last note and put it into the jar before promptly hiding it in your backpack, being sure Eddie would never find it accidently, not that he’d ever go through your belongings, but you were still cautious. After washing your hands thoroughly, you cleared the kitchen table of your project and grabbed your laptop to order pizza.

Sure, phoning Dominos to place your order was easier but Eddie’s pizza orders were always special to put it simply. That man couldn’t settle for a simple margarita pizza to save his life, nay, he had to have some weird combination that changed in a frequent basis. His current favourite pizza? Tandoori chicken and burger sauce with stuffed crust. As odd as it sounded, you did have a slice and it was pretty good, so you couldn’t exactly hate him for that.

You’d just finished placing the order when Eddie came out donned in just a towel, another towel in his hair trying to dry it before lowering it to cover his face completely. “Is it safe to come out?”

You let out another laugh, nodding your head. “Yes, you muppet, it’s safe. Pizza’s been ordered and it should be here in a bit.”

Taking the towel away from his face, he smirked at you and began to slowly walk across his apartment towards you, deliberately allowing his towel to slip down his body. Watching him with a smirk matching his, you shook your head. “Don’t even think about it, mister, we got pizza coming and I don’t wanna get interrupted by the doorbell again.”

He pouted and pulled up the towel, sulking his way into the bedroom. He came back a few minutes later in his usual jeans and dark red hoodie, one you’d frequently steal from him to wear when the weather got a bit cold.

You closed your laptop lid as he wrapped his arms around you again, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head once you rested your back against his chest. The pair of you stayed in content silence until the loud knock on the door to signal your pizzas had arrived. You began to get up, but Eddie placed his hands on your shoulders to keep you seated, “I’ll get them baby,” he murmured into your hair before answering the door.

Eddie had fallen asleep after devouring his pizza and watching a season and a half of Derry Girls while cuddling with you on the couch, his head nestled into the crook of your neck, feeling his breath on your skin with his arms wrapped tightly around your middle, keeping you close to him.

You slowly got out of his grasp, being careful not to wake him up, although Eddie was quite a deep sleeper and not a lot of things woke him up. As quietly as possible, you moved around his apartment, tidying up the pizza boxes before turning off the TV and putting a blanket over Eddie.

Getting the jar out of your backpack, you began to place the notes around Eddie’s apartment; on every table, in some books, in the wardrobe, on the fridge and in every single pocket you could think of. Once you’d finished, you gently shook Eddie awake just enough to get him in bed and properly asleep before you followed him soon after, cuddling into him as you easily fell asleep.

In the morning, you were woken up by an endless amount of kisses all over your face, lips, neck, chest, and hands. At first, you were too sleepy and groggy to fully realise what was happening but as you slowly started to wake up, you moved Eddie’s kisses up to your lips and kissed him back. “What’s all the kisses for?” you whispered against his lips.

Eddie gave you a couple more kisses before answering your question. “I found some of your notes, and I thought since my girl was being so loving with her notes; I thought I would be loving back and wake her up with as many kisses as I can give her before work.”

#spilled ink #requests #lunatictardis #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction

[ms-demeanor]

Okay but also putting the panic aside part of what is going on here is that I'm feeling stressed because I'm feeling helpless; I could be cleaning right now but I am at work so it's just a thing that's sitting there hovering over me and filling me with anxiety so ignoring the specifics of my weird timing and odd mess situation, here's the "So You're a Disaster Guide to Preparing Your Home for Guests"

Here are the things you should be able to offer your overnight guests:

A clean and comfortable place to sleep with clean sheets, pillows, and blankets.

A clean and sanitary bathroom with towels (and, optionally, toiletries)

Depending on the space you've got, a comfortable place to spend time outside of the area they will be sleeping in (this may also be your primary socializing or relaxing space)

Access to clean dishes and a source for (at the very least) water (and possibly snacks/drinks/meals depending on the length of the stay and your relationship to your guests).

Here's a quick guide to providing those things in the shortest amount of time possible based on order of importance.

Make sure that you've got clean bedclothes and towels for your guest; if you do not have these things immediately at hand your first priority is doing a load of laundry to get clean towels, sheets, and blankets for your guest [and wash bath mats if necessary].

Tidy the area they will be sleeping in by clearing away clutter. Your goal is to achieve an unobstructed sleeping surface (so if they're sleeping on a fold-out couch or a futon in a shared space make sure that it will require minimal effort to turn into a bed when they are ready to sleep; if they are sleeping on an air mattress move any furniture blocking the mattress out of the way and inflate the mattress then make the bed; if they are in a guest room make sure that anything stored on or near the bed is cleared away then make up the bed). Provide a space for your guest to put any travel bags and provide a place near their sleeping area for them to put their phone/medications/glass of water/etc. that they may need in the night. [This is where you stop and move on to the next area unless you have lots of time. If you have lots of time, completely sweep or vacuum the floor of your guest's space, dust the room, and ensure that there is a power strip or phone charger handy for your guest]

Make sure the bathroom they will be using is clean and functional (it's actually a tossup for me about whether you clean the bathroom or the sleeping area first; I'm less willing to clean a bathroom while guests are present than a sleeping area so I'd say bathroom first honestly). My recommendation for this is to do things in the following order (make sure the space is well ventilated): - Spray a cleaning solution in the tub or shower, focusing on any problem areas. - Let that sit while you spray the same cleaning solution in the sink. - Let that sit while you use a brush and your preferred toilet cleaning solution to scrub the toilet bowl. - Use a brush or sponge to scrub the shower/tub then rinse the shower/tub. - Use a brush or sponge to scrub the sink then rinse the sink. - Use a cloth with a cleaning solution or a cleaning wipe to clean the exterior of the toilet - Use a cloth to wipe down any surfaces like the countertop - Place fresh hand towels in the bathroom - Sweep and spot-mop the floor then empty the trashcan and spot clean the mirror tada clean bathroom [This is where you stop and move on to the next area unless you have lots of time; if you have lots of time do a full mop of the bathroom floor, clean the mirror, and dust any surfaces that need it]

Clean the kitchen in the following order: - Put away any clean dishes - Clear countertops of clutter - Wash any dirty dishes or load them into the dishwasher so that the sink is clear and rinse the sink - Use a cloth with a cleaning solution or cleaning wipes to wipe down countertops, dust appliances, and do a quick wipe-down of the range. - Place fresh hand towels in the kitchen - Sweep the floor and empty the trash [This is where you stop and move on to the next area unless you have lots of time, if you have lots of time mop the floor, do a deep clean of countertops, clean and sanitize the sink, check whether your refrigerator needs to be cleared of aging food or have any spills cleaned up, clean the kitchen range, and clean the oven door]

Prepare a living room for your guests in the following order: - Make sure there are clear seats available for at least every adult who will be in the household; pick up and put away crafts, toys, or projects that may be in the way of visitors. - Clear the surfaces of tables next to any seating options so that a seated person could easily set down a drink; consider placing coasters on each of these surfaces so they are handy if someone wants one. - Sweep or vacuum the floor as needed. [This is where you stop and move on unless you have lots of time; if you have lots of time consider vacuuming the creases of furniture, dusting shelves and surfaces in the room, and possibly cleaning the windows.]

My approach to this is basically "if you were picking someone up from the airport at midnight and bringing them back to your home, would they be able to get ready for bed and comfortably go to sleep right away?" which is why things are prioritized the way they are. Things would be different if I were cleaning in preparation for a party or if I were having people over for dinner, this is just the 'clean a house after you get off work and before you get in the car to go to LAX' list.

[metalhoops]

Everyone who’s touched grief knows it’s bigger than two hands can hold. The inexperienced try to string together the right words to lighten the load and those who grieve wear a momentary mask of comfort, feeling instead heavier. Those who’ve experienced grief know there are not enough words in the world to replace something as simple as a small action. 

You don’t remember the platitudes and false virtues strangers assign to the dead, but after a long day when you find your fridge full of precooked meals, you’ll remember who dropped off the potato salad. Max was sick of people who didn’t know her, telling her how kind her brother was. How funny he could be. How talented he was. 

No one, save the rare few, know what to do with complex grief. Max didn’t know how to unpick her thoughts, let alone put them into words and hold them up for someone else to see and understand. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to be understood.

She didn’t know how she could miss someone so deeply while being in some small part, glad they were dead. No one tells you what to do when your thoughts betray you. 

By the time Max and her mother moved into the trailer park, people had stopped telling her how much they missed Billy, which was a small blessing. They’d also stopped dropping off food or offering to do their laundry. Max and her mother had been too proud to take anyone up on that offer, but she missed the thought. 

Two months had passed, and it felt like everyone forgot Billy existed, that anything had happened. Lucas and the other boys had started asking her to hang out again. The unspoken grace period given to her and her mother for mourning had ended. Now it was back to business as usual. Her mother returned to work, and Max was left alone in an empty trailer full of boxes. 

That was when Steve arrived with a Tupperware container under one arm and a fancy untouched toolbox under the other. 

“Figured you’d need some help,” the boy muttered, kicking off his shoes, not waiting to be invited in. 

He knew better. If he’d asked, Max would’ve told him to piss off. She couldn’t understand why Steve of all people was able to read her moods so well. 

Steve hadn’t been much help rebuilding the furniture, but he’d supplied the Allen key and screwdriver so she couldn’t complain. He was good at unpacking boxes. With the two of them working, the task had taken a day, as opposed to the week it would’ve if she’d done it on her own. She was meant to be in school that day, but she couldn’t bring herself to go. She’d expected that to be the last she saw of the older boy but instead, he made a habit of checking in on her. 

Steve kept dropping off meals. After a week he started driving Max around on the days the mere mention of school threatened to topple her. Sometimes she’d hang around the back of the video store. On other days he’d drop her off at the arcade and she’d play Dig Dug until her eyes burnt and her fingers cramped. 

She didn’t know exactly when it’d happened but somewhere along the way, she found herself getting strangely attached to the guy. She’d lost one brother but gained another. 

That was why when Steve stopped driving home at night, she’d sent Eddie to get him. 

Max didn’t know much about Eddie Munson. His uncle and Max’s mother infrequently drank coffee together at the communal picnic tables. Nothing ever happened. Max knew her mother and how she acted around her boyfriends. This was different. They just sat together, mostly in silence, watching the sun go down. It kept her mother from drinking so much or so early. What Max did know about Eddie Munson was that he owed her. 

One night when her mother was out, the cops came poking around the trailer park, asking her if she’d seen anything suspicious. Max wasn’t dumb, quite the opposite. She knew Eddie sold drugs. She also knew the cops wanted to pin something on him. She wasn’t altogether sure why, maybe there was some pressure to put someone behind bars from the kinds of places that had neighbourhood watches. 

It was only when crime started to leak into the suburbs that people went searching for the culprits. Some rich kid spikes a girl’s drink in Loch Nora and the next thing you know, they’re looking for drug dealers in trailer parks. The guy will get a smack on the wrist, while Eddie? He’ll get thrown in jail and the people of Hawkins will sleep a little better at night, knowing all is right and just in the world. Until the same guy does it again. Then another trailer park kid is marched off to the stocks. 

Max had learnt how the world worked young. It’d been out of some strange sense of solidarity that she’d kept her mouth shut about Eddie. When the cops split, she’d given him the heads up to keep his nose clean while there was blood in the water. She hadn’t done it for a favour. But if nothing else, she was opportunistic. 

Steve wasn’t driving home most nights. Max knew because she’d take note when the Beamer shot past the trailer park. Some days it was in the dead of night, others, the early hour of the morning. He wasn’t staying over at girls’ places like she’d first thought. Even if he wasn’t the golden boy he’d once been if someone slept with Steve Harrington, the whole town knew within the week. 

She’d followed him one afternoon, riding her skateboard at a safe distance. He’d drive around, past their houses, as though on his own neighbourhood watch. He’d finish his patrol and pull up at any number of odd locations, the train tracks, the junkyard, the woods. At first, she’d worried he, like Billy, was possessed. After long days of silent observation, she realised the kind of ghosts that possessed Steve were of his own making. 

Max didn’t know what to do until she saw the light on in the Munson’s trailer past midnight. She stalked across the way, pounded her fists on the fly screen, and called in a favour. She asked Eddie to check on Steve. He’d looked at her like she’d grown a third head but agreed. 

Eddie Munson didn’t do favours but Red was a good kid, so he’d made an exception. He began his quest by driving past the Harrington’s manor, hoping for his own sake to find the BMW parked in the drive but Max had been right, Steve wasn’t home, nobody was. 

Eddie was tempted to check all the usual spots he’d go if he were a meathead jock with ample time and money. There was skull rock, the notorious Harrington make-out spot and a has-been jock party was going on in the next suburb over from Loch Nora, but Red’s instructions had been clear. If Steve wasn’t at home, she’d rattled off a list of places he might be, each one growing stranger. 

That was how Eddie Munson ended up in the junkyard. The place was surprisingly well-lit, despite the late hour. He worked his way through an overgrown thicket, cursing himself for wearing his white Reeboks. He’d be scrubbing out grass stains with a toothbrush for the next week. 

Mounds of trash and scrap metal shot out of the dried grass like rocks rising from the ocean. Amongst it all, burning bright as a lighthouse was a rusting yellow school bus. It stood in stark contrast against the blue, black night. A dull glow bled out of the vehicle’s shattered windows. 

Eddie found himself drawn to the little island of light as a moth flocks to a flame. His feet moved swiftly, eager as a young child at the prospect of adventure. He slipped in through the half-open door of the bus and was greeted by another body slamming into his. 

Eddie’s head cracked against the metal bus frame, making him groan. It wasn’t until he tried to move that he realised there was something sharp pressed against his neck. Against all his better judgment Eddie swallowed, feeling a broken bottle nip at his skin. 

Eddie’s eyes flickered to the wielder of the weapon. A once mighty king had fallen like his surrounding kingdom, into a state of disrepair. Steve Harrington. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

“Harrington,” Eddie spoke, keeping his voice soft and even, as though speaking to a wild animal that could startle. 

There was a manic look in Steve’s eyes Eddie knew well. He’d never thought he’d see the ghost of himself dance across such a pretty and foreign face. The days before Eddie moved in with Wayne were better left alone. He knew the wide-eyed vigilance of people who’d grown used to fending for their lives. It was a look he’d never imagine Steve Harrington capable of. 

A glint of recognition shifted over Steve’s face and the eyes of years long past were gone as though a trick of the light. The bottle disappeared from his neck, shattering as it dropped against the floor of the bus. 

“Shit, Munson. Sorry,” Steve uttered, moving out of Eddie’s space. 

Eddie was surprised Steve remembered his name. Across the six-odd years the two had gone to school together, Harrington had spoken to him a grand total of three times. The first, to ask for a pencil in Spanish. The second had been a disgruntled ‘hey, man’ as Eddie sidestepped his lunch tray on one of his biweekly jaunts across the jock table and the third, which Eddie only now recalled, had surprised him. 

He’d gotten a D in history. It’d been the final nail in the coffin, solidifying the fact that he’d once again have to repeat his senior year. Eddie spent the rest of the class carving his name into the underside of his desk with his thumbnail until it was bloody and covered in splinters. 

He’d almost lasted until the end of class before he had to excuse himself with little plan of where he was going or what he was doing. He knew he wanted to get away, that he needed to be anywhere but there. He wasn’t sure what’d tipped Harrington off but as he shuffled past the former king’s desk, his eyes downcast, a hand shot out to snag Eddie’s forearm. 

“Hey, Munson? There’s always next year,” Steve muttered under his breath.

From anyone else, it would’ve sounded condescending, but Steve genuinely meant it. Eddie hadn’t known what to say. He’d felt a sudden lump rise in his throat. He took off, thinking it’d be the last time he’d see Steve Harrington. He’d wished he’d been so lucky. 

“So, Harrington, what’s someone like you doing in a place like this?” Eddie asked when his heart rate returned to a regular rhythm. He heard a snort escape Steve’s throat as he leaned back against the opposite wall of the bus. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” 

Eddie wanted to know when Steve had started to sound so world-wearied. Nineteen-year-olds shouldn’t sound so worn thin. The closer he looked at Steve, the more he saw. His eyes were chaliced with the kind of purple, blue bruises that came from weeks of sleeplessness. There was a pale pink scar, slicing a line from his bottom lip to his jaw. In time, it’d fade into obscurity, but for now, in the cold of the night, it stood out like a crack in fine china. 

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, sliding down the wall to a seated position, as though once again settling in for the night. Eddie heard glass tinkle and grind under Steve’s body. 

Had his parents kicked him out? Was he hiding from someone? Eddie knew fuck all about Steve Harrington and he’d liked it that way. Screw not doing favours. Red owed him one after all this was said and done. 

“Finding a new place to pedal goods. New chief of police has been riding my ass,” Eddie lied. It wasn’t as though he was going to tell Steve he was sent on a fetch quest by a fourteen-year-old. 

A flicker of pain shifted across Steve’s face before disappearing. It was a moon sinking below the horizon line, leaving no trace of the momentary night as a false smile painted his face the colour of a sunrise. 

“Can’t say I’d recommend this old rust bucket. Isn’t drug dealing in a junkyard a little cliche?” Eddie rolled his eyes and sank to the floor of the bus, nudging Steve’s foot with his. 

“Keep giving me lip and you’ll have to pay double.” 

Harrington never brought from him. The freckled asshat, he used to hang around with would buy weed once in a blue moon, but never Steve. 

“You got anything on you?” He asked to Eddie’s surprise. He hadn’t exactly come prepared. He searched the depths of his pockets, finding two small ziplock bags and half a pack of rolling paper. He threw them Steve’s way. 

“On the house. Looks like you need it,” He mused and watched as Steve’s fingers worked, quick and methodical. Hagan had obviously shared his stash with Harrington.  

“Got a light?” 

Eddie fetched his Zippo from his back pocket and leaned over to light Steve’s joint. The guy looked surprised. He should’ve handed the lighter over. Too late now. 

Steve’s lips were poised so close to Eddie’s fingers. His face illuminated by flame, caused Eddie to shift closer. He lifted a hand to Steve’s cheek, acting under the guise of trying to shield the flame from the breeze filtering in through the broken windows and half-open door. 

“You got anything stronger?” Steve spoke, breathing a plume of smoke into the night air. Eddie wasn’t sure it was wise, but he’d never counted wisdom as his strong suit. 

“Back at my place.” Steve snorted, smoke billowing from his half-pursed lips, his eyes beginning to haze over. 

“People’ll talk.” 

People always talked when it came to Steve, but surely not in the way the boy was implying. Ramrod straight, Steve Harrington couldn’t make a gay quip, not about himself. Maybe he was embarrassed about what being seen with Eddie could do to his dwindling reputation. 

“I’m pretty good at keeping a low profile,” Eddie supplied, and Steve nodded stoically. 

“Stealthy, like a ninja,” Steve replied. 

It was Eddie’s turn to choke out a laugh. Goofy had never been a quality he’d assigned to Steve Harrington. He supposed the trait had its charm. It worked on Eddie. 

“Like a ninja,” Eddie echoed. 

When he’d said yes to Red, he’d assumed he’d drag Steve’s likely-intoxicated, ex-jock ass home and call it a night, but looking at the boy across from him with the joint tucked between his lips and the thousand-yard-stare, Eddie had to admit there was a change of plans. 

“Have you heard about the world’s best ninja?” Eddie asked, his once pristine shoes nudged themselves beneath Steve’s Born in the USA style blue jeans. 

Steve shook his head, a flicker of curiosity dancing over his face, his stupid floppy hair, falling in his eyes. 

“That’s why he’s the best,” Eddie insisted and felt his insides grow warm when Steve cackled. He was pretty when he laughed. He looked more like the guy he’d been back in high school, more carefree. 

Eddie wasn’t a stranger to sitting with people and talking them down on their worst nights, but a relative stranger was new. 

Eddie stood and extended a hand to Steve. The boy clasped onto his ringed fingers and pulled himself up. 

“My van’s parked half a mile up the way, you coming?” Steve shrugged and followed close at Eddie’s side.

The two walked in relative silence, standing so close their hips played the role of balls in a Newton’s cradle, knocking against one another in a rhythmic pattern. 

Back in the familiar landscape of his van, Eddie was once again hit with the strangeness of the situation as he watched Steve slide into his passenger seat, snubbing out the remains of the joint in the ashtray. He thought of their spit mingling in the little petri dish and pushed that thought aside. He’d always been good at holding back those kinds of thoughts. It came with the territory. 

“Why do you need something strong?” Eddie asked as he turned the ignition. 

If he’d learnt anything from his uncle, it was that hard conversations were best had behind the wheel. That way no one could storm out. He’d admitted to his uncle he’d failed his first senior year as the two sat at the juncture between Maple and Main. He’d come out to Wayne along Lakeside Dr. 

“Why did you really come to the junkyard?” Steve countered. He was smarter than he looked, or at least, smarted than Eddie had assumed. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Eddie quipped after a second, watching as a bemused smirk twitched onto Steve’s face. 

“It’s been a hard year, man. Hard couple of years,” Steve confessed. Eddie wasn’t going to let him get off that easy. 

“Is this to do with you getting unceremoniously shunted off the top of the Hawkins’ High totem pole?” Eddie asked.

He had a feeling whatever it was ran far deeper than just popularity, but this was Steve Harrington. Steve was pretty and popular. He wasn’t allowed to have real problems. That’s not how the rich and stuck-up operated. 

“Honestly? No. Think that might’ve been a good thing.” Steve drummed his fingers against the passenger door. 

“Then was it the thing with Wheeler?” Eddie asked, watching Steve cringe. Maybe he should leave it alone. 

“Part of it. I don’t know.” What followed was a loaded silence. 

Eddie kept casting glimpses from Steve to the road, watching as his face screwed in concentration as he searched for words. 

“I feel like it’s my job to protect everybody,” He admitted, his voice barely raising above a whisper. 

“And I don’t know how. I feel like I’m supposed to have all the answers but I just... I feel like a kid, who’s in way over his head.” Steve pulled his knees up to his chest, and settled his chin on them, not daring to look in Eddie’s direction.

He was a year older than Steve and he felt like a lost kid most of the time, as though he was an imposter masquerading as someone who knew what the hell he was doing. He wondered if that feeling ever went away. 

“Red sent me to check up on you. The kid’s worried,” Eddie confessed watching as Steve’s head snapped to look in his direction. 

“She’s got enough on her plate without worrying about me.” 

Steve didn’t need to say what Max was dealing with. Eddie knew. Hawkins was a small town, and Billy Hargreaves was infamous. Eddie had a bad feeling about the guy from day one, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel sorry for him, dying in a mall fire. Hell of a way to go.  He’d heard rumours Max had been there when it happened. Then again, he’d also heard talk of Steve slinging ice cream at the mall. Eddie could see a picture beginning to form. He didn’t like it. 

The two didn’t speak for the rest of the drive back to Eddie’s trailer. There was nothing left to say. Steve continued to tap his fingers absentmindedly, so Eddie leaned over, turning on the radio. The tape deck played the thrashing guitar and pounding beats of the latest Slayer album. Eddie liked it well enough, but he cringed, preparing for Steve to chew it up and spit it out. He didn’t. He shut his eyes, rested his head against the passenger window and promptly fell asleep. Eddie would be damned.

Unsure of what to do with the sleeping boy and the blaring music, Eddie drove in circles around all the familiar back roads of Hawkins, steering clear of the potholes and dirt tracks. It wasn’t until Eddie’s eyes started to droop that he called it a night, pulling up outside his trailer, flicking his floodlights twice in the direction of the Mayfield’s, letting Max know he’d gotten Steve home safe. Well, he’d gotten Steve to his home safely. 

Eddie was contemplating the logistics of getting Steve out of the car when the boy began to stir. His eyes fluttered open for a second to meet Eddie’s before he groaned and turned to bury his face into the car seat. Damn it all. Eddie had managed to go for years without developing a crush on Steve, it wasn’t goddamn fair he was about to do it now. 

“Good morning, Starshine,” Eddie teased, walking around to open the passenger door for Steve. 

“Welcome to my humble abode. I have drugs or you know... a comfortable bed. Pick your poison,” Eddie spoke as the two made their way to his trailer. 

As they stepped into the main room, Eddie watched as Steve’s eyes scanned the place, lingering on Wayne’s collection of mugs and novelty hats, a ghost of a smile on his face. Eddie grabbed onto Steve’s wrist and led him down the hall. 

“The drugs and the bed are in my room,” Eddie explained as they went. 

Eddie nudged the door to his room open with a flourish of his hands. 

“This is where the magic happens,” Eddie explained and watched as Steve quirked a brow. 

“Mind out of the gutter, Harrington. I was talking about literal magic.” Eddie smirked gesturing to his stack of Dungeons and Dragons’ manuals, handbooks, and campaign notes. 

“You’re such a nerd,” Steve grumbled flopping onto Eddie’s bed. 

Maybe it was the high that’d made him seem looser, but Eddie liked a Steve who took charge. He crawled under the covers, making himself at home in Eddie’s bed. 

“Demogorgons suck ass,” Steve uttered after a moment, his face muffled by Eddie’s pillow. He wondered if he’d fallen asleep on the ride home and driven them into a ditch, because there was no way Steve was in his bed, talking about D&D. Eddie liked demogorgons, something he elegantly articulated by muttering,

“You suck ass.” As he flopped beside Steve in bed. Steve snorted.

“That’s one thing I haven’t tried,” he confessed. Yes, he was high. Eddie couldn’t imagine a sober Steve making that confession openly. 

Eddie settled on top of the covers, hyperaware a sober Steve might not be as receptive to waking up beside Eddie. He was in over his head. 

“Are you okay with this?” Eddie questioned as he rolled over to lay on his side, propping his head up to get a better look at Steve, half smothered in his sheets. As much as people talked about Steve’s love life, they also talked less favourably about Eddie’s, or his lack thereof. 

“You’re not going to punch me in the face in the morning?” Eddie concluded, voicing his concerns. His heart was tugging him closer to Steve, but he wasn’t willing to do anything they’d both regret. 

He’d been shockingly open to letting the boy into his innermost sanctum. Maybe he had a saviour complex, but he wanted to know how much of a commitment the two would have, how long was the piece of rope that tied them together? Was it a momentary truce or the start of something? 

“No,” Steve breathed after a beat, seeming equal parts understanding and offended Eddie had asked. 

The two lapsed into silence. Eddie was left wondering if Steve had fallen asleep again, but the rise and fall of the boy’s chest was too shallow. Steve eventually let out a groan and rolled to face Eddie. Whatever momentary reprieve had allowed him to sleep in the car had passed. 

Eddie’s gaze was once again drawn to the growing blue beneath Steve’s eyes. He had stuff that could help Steve sleep, but he knew from experience, drugs could only do so much. They were numbing jell on a knife wound, a momentary relief from pain without fixing the real problem. 

“Can’t sleep?” Eddie spoke, trying to get inside Steve’s head, to unpick what was going on with him. Steve nodded miserably. 

“Anything I can do to help?” Eddie wondered. 

There were no guidelines for the strange turn the night had taken. Steve opened and shut his mouth, gaping like a fish on dry land. He had some thoughts, it appeared, but none he was willing to voice right away. Eddie felt strangely endeared to the boy in his bed. He’d give him anything he asked, even if he didn’t think it was smart. 

“Is it true, what people say about you?” Steve asked after a long pause. 

That wasn’t what Eddie had expected. He blanched and watched as Steve’s eyes swelled, his panic rolling off him in waves, crashing head-on into Steve. 

“Never mind, don’t answer that. Christ, that was invasive. Sorry,” Steve fumbled, sinking further beneath Eddie’s sheets to hide his face. It appeared it was a night for confessions.

“Were you asking about the satanic shit or the gay thing?” Eddie spoke candidly, his fingers knotting in the covers. 

You didn’t come out to just anyone. You sure as hell didn’t come out to someone like Steve unless you had a death wish, though Eddie was quickly learning the Steve Harrington that existed in his head and the one lying in his bed were two different creatures. 

“Forget I asked,” Steve repeated, rolling over to turn away from Eddie, a faint flush dusting his cheeks. 

“I don’t worship the devil and I’m not gay,” Eddie found himself confiding.

He watched as Steve’s body went still. Eddie couldn’t see his face, but he could tell his mind had kicked into overdrive. 

“Oh, cool,” Steve spoke sounding suddenly distant, as though that hadn’t been the answer he was looking for. Eddie didn’t know Steve Harrington at all. 

“But I’d be lyin’ if I said you were the first guy I’ve had in here, Steve,” Eddie continued, giving away more than he’d intended. 

Steve peered over his shoulder and quirked a brow. He didn’t look shocked or disgusted as Eddie had anticipated. He looked relieved. 

“Like Bowie?” He wondered aloud. Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Yeah, like Bowie- I mean, I have a preference. Guys suit me better, I guess. But sometimes a girl’ll surprise me.” 

The conversation felt intimate, surprisingly more so than when he’d admitted it to the guys in Corroded Coffin. With them, there hadn’t been follow-up questions. The guys had been supportive, but they hadn’t known what to say. It’d been another fact about Eddie they’d taken in their stride without much acknowledgement. He hadn’t felt the need to explain himself. He didn’t know why, but when it came to Steve, he felt like he needed to explain the whole thing in intimate detail. 

“Me too,” Steve muttered, sounding entirely unlike himself. He was quiet and unsure; two traits Eddie had never assigned to the Steve that lived in his head. 

“I mean... for me, girls are easy. Guys are... new?” Once more, Steve sounded unsure. 

“Maybe not new because it’s always been there but I just left it alone.” Eddie wondered what’d spurred on the change, whether it was a near-death experience or something else entirely. Eddie was good at reading between the lines. 

“Steve, I’m going to ask you again, okay? What do you want me to do?” 

Steve sucked air in through his teeth, gripped the sheets and finally let his shoulders sag. 

“Can you just... hold me, for a bit?” Steve asked at last, sounding as though Eddie had placed a loaded gun to his head. Of all the things Eddie had been expecting, that wasn’t it. 

Eddie moved closer, lining up his hips and Steve’s back, throwing an arm around the boy’s waist. It was different. Eddie was used to closeted guys wanting to have sex with him, but they didn’t hang around long after. 

He thought back to Steve’s words. The guy wanted to protect everybody, from god knows what, but who was looking out for him? He hooked his chin on Steve’s shoulder. He smelled faintly of cologne and something chemical, hairspray. 

“This okay?” Eddie clarified. Steve’s body felt stiff and unresponsive in his arms. 

Steve hummed. It took him a moment to relax but when he did, he practically melted into Eddie. The boy pushed back, fitting their knees together. Eddie was thankful they’d decided to keep their jeans on, fearful of what any more skin-to-skin contact would do. Steve cradled Eddie’s palm to his heart and dropped his chin to his chest, so Eddie could feel the ghost of the boy’s breath dance across his fingertips. Steve was a renowned good lay, but the Harrington charm went deeper than that. The guy was good at cuddling, something Eddie hadn’t thought was possible until he had every inch of Steve pressed and curled against him. 

“This okay for you?” Steve asked after a moment, his breath tickled against Eddie’s knuckles. 

“Great for me,” Eddie confirmed sounding as breathless as he felt. 

Steve’s heart beneath his hand thundered, letting Eddie know the boy wasn’t as cool and collected as he was pretending to be. He didn’t point it out. He did two things very out of character for Eddie Munson. He remained still and silent. Steve’s breath grew deep and even. Eddie leaned closer, pressing his face into the nape of Steve’s neck as the boy began to whimper in his sleep. 

“I got you,” He assured. 

“You’re safe. M’not going to let anything happen to you.” Eddie promised. 

It took time, but Steve settled and at last, Eddie let the long night swallow him whole. 

Max decided Eddie Munson was useless. She’d watched him pull up outside his trailer around three and she hadn’t heard from him since. She’d thought the idiot would at least give her a heads up on how things had gone with Steve, but it appeared she had to do everything for herself. 

At 10 a.m. when there was still no sign of life from the Munson’s trailer, save for Eddie’s uncle pulling in around six, Max stalked over and wrapped her knuckles against Eddie’s bedroom window. After a moment a mop of curly brown hair popped into view. 

“Wha?” The boy grumbled, still half asleep. 

“How did things go last night?” Max asked, taking the tone of a scolding mother, talking to a very small, very dumb child. 

“Good,” Eddie confided a goofy grin crossing his face. It confirmed Max’s suspicions. Everyone else, save her, was useless. 

“Well, where the hell was he? Did you talk to him? Did he seem weird? Is he okay?” Max rattled off a list of rapid-fire questions only to be hushed by Eddie. 

“He’s sleeping, Red. Keep the volume down.” 

Max opened her mouth to ask what the hell Eddie was talking about when she caught a familiar glimpse of styled, sandy hair peeking out from beneath the sheets. Max, unlike most people, wasn’t an idiot. She’d grown up in California, she knew the way the world worked. She didn’t need anyone to spell it out for her. 

“Gross,” She grumbled. Not because Steve and Eddie were both men but because Steve was like her older brother and Eddie was- she didn’t want to think about it. 

Max let out an elongated sigh, squared her shoulders and spoke. 

“You like scary movies, right Munson?” He seemed like the type. 

Eddie nodded. 

“Michael Myers hasn’t got a thing on Max Mayfield. You do anything stupid with Steve and I’ll show you how I got the nickname Mad Max.” 

Eddie swallowed thickly and nodded. It was all for show, but someone had to say it. Someone should always be in Steve’s corner. Max had the feeling Steve wasn’t used to people looking out for him. She knew the feeling.

“Sir yes sir,” He breathed, faking a salute. Max rolled her eyes. 

She had a feeling she was going to regret bringing Steve and Eddie together but when hours later, Steve showed up at her house with a Tupperware container full of spaghetti and a secret smile on his lips, she had to admit, for once she might be wrong. 

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #ficlet #stranger things #bi steve harrington #bi eddie munson #Fluff and angst #sharing a bed #Pre season 4 #post season 3 #alternative 'first' meeting #max mayfield #honestly bi 4 bi is my steddie headcanon #I know it's not as popular #maybe it's my own bias as a bisexual showing #but I feel like bi rep #it is always either someone who is generally #into someone of the opposite sex #who has an 'oh I like this person' moment and realises they are bi #or someone who 50/50 likes both genders #give me more 'well I knew I was into the same sex' #but wow every once in a blue moon I'm smacked in the face #with opposite sex attraction and thrown for a loop #because that's closer to my personal experience #anyway that's my rant #also Max and Steve's relationship is cool #so I wanted to explore it more #metalhoops writes

[lovebugism]

sleepover !! on the plane of dad!steve: what about steve finding out reader’s pregnant? they’re young enough for it to be a shock, but established relationship or casual hookup is up to you

i hereby name this the first installment of my dad!steve blurb series: the "crazy little thing called love" universe &lt;3

By all accounts, you and Steve did everything right.

Sure, you got married pretty young, but after surviving the end of the world four separate times, you thought you were deserving of the rapid elopement. You moved into a little apartment outside of town shortly after, working like dogs until you could afford a down payment on one of those pretty houses people put in magazines. 

Neither of you minded that it was in the middle of the suburbs — that it was “expected” of the Harringtons to live within white picket fences. You were just grateful you didn’t have to live in his vacant childhood home that his parents were kind enough to offer as a present for a wedding they didn’t attend. Steve was more than happy to let the place rot. 

It takes your entire first year of marriage to fully decorate the place. 

The pool in the backyard is lined with white and yellow striped lounge chairs. The living room is more plants than furniture. The kitchen cabinets are painted green to match the tile in the bathroom. And the bedroom’s got a gallery of photos of the both of you on one side and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase on the other — Steve stores his vinyls on the upper shelves and you stash your books on the lower ones.

You’re finally getting settled into your new life in your new house when you realize your period is late.

By two weeks, to be exact.

You don’t even realize it until you’re grocery shopping. 

Steve mans the cart while you strike through the list, as per usual. He’s trying to choose between two similarly scented body washes — accidentally squirting some on the tip of his nose in the process — when you return from the feminine hygiene section. 

You didn’t need tampons, you realized while standing in front of the vibrantly colored boxes, because you had a full pack at home for a period that never came.

Steve uses his sleeve to wipe the peppermint-scented soap from his nose when you return, looking pallid and ghastly — like you’ve just seen a ghost looking for period underwear. His hand slows before falling to his side. “You okay?” he cautions.

You nod before the words catch up to you. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m— Yeah.”

“You could at least try and sound a little more convincing,” he laughs as he puts both bottles back. Neither was worth getting soap up the nose, turns out. “C’mon. Just tell me. It can’t be that bad, right?”

In his head, you’ve just seen someone from high school. You saw an old friend or a mean girl who hated you for no reason or a boy you had a fling with. They tried to chat you up while you were deciding between regular and super tampons, and the unexpected encounter’s got you all shaken up.

The image is so vivid in his head, Steve could laugh just thinking about it.

You clear your tightening throat, inching closer to him when another couple enters the aisle. You whisper like you’re telling him a secret. “My, um… My period is late. By, like… a lot.”

Steve’s blood runs cold. His eyes go wide and he forgets how to breathe. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. That’s— That’s bad, huh?”

“Yes,” you agonize, breathless. “Yes, that’s bad. That’s very, very bad.”

“Alright, c’mon. I’m standing right here,” he half-jokes.

“I just got promoted. If I have to take a year off work for maternity leave, I’ll be right back where I started.”

Steve can sense the panic radiating off of you. It’s rising with vigor like a faucet turned on high in a stopped-up kitchen sink. Once it starts overflowing, it’s harder to stop. Despite his own distant worry, he tries to quell your own.

“You might not even be pregnant, right? So why are you already worrying about maternity leave?” he questions with a gentle laugh. He takes both your arms in his hands, squeezing you in a soft reassurance. “You’re right. You just got promoted. Maybe, you know— Maybe you’re just stressed out about it. That’s all.”

“Yeah… You’re probably right.”

“Let’s take a test first, huh? Then we can start panicking.”

He presses a kiss to the tip of your scrunched nose. 

You’re able to breathe again.

You pick out three different brands of pregnancy tests, shoving them quickly into your cart and hiding them beneath your groceries like sex toys. 

The boxes are stacked on top of each other as they move slowly on the conveyor belt at the checkout counter. The older woman with pink lips and pinker nails smiles as she scans them through.

“It’s exciting, huh?” she gushes, smacking bubble gum between her teeth.

“Yep,” you nod, though the word comes out slightly strangled.

Steve’s charming smile wavers. “Totally.”

The paper bags of groceries are quickly abandoned on the kitchen counter when you get home. You’re far more worried about the pregnancy tests, and Steve’s more concerned about calming you down.

He sits with you on your shared bed, back propped up against the headboard, with you in between his legs. He works your palm with his thumbs, smoothing out the tension you seem to hold there. His chest you lean upon rises and falls with deep, even breaths. 

You’re not sure how he can be so calm about this, but you’re almost comforted by it.

Almost.

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you know?” Steve admits after a minute or more of pure silence. “If you were pregnant. Actually, you know, I think I’d be pretty happy.”

“I know you would be. It’s totally different for you.”

His brows furrow, though you’re not looking at him to see. “What do you mean?”

“You wouldn’t have to be the one to take off work. I’d have to drop my entire career, and I’m— I’m just getting started. It would change everything for me.”

Steve hums to himself. It’s not the pregnancy that scares you, not the birthing process or the late nights or the constant crying. It’s the thought that you wouldn’t have a life outside of it all.

“I’d be here to help you, you know?”

“I know,” you sigh softly, tiling your head on his shoulder so you can stare up at him. His chin juts closer to his neck so he can look down at you too. “But for a while, we both couldn’t work. For the first couple of years, probably. And we can’t get a babysitter because we wouldn’t have double incomes, and… I don’t know if I’d trust someone to take care of our baby anyway—”

Steve tries not to smile but completely and utterly fails. 

You’re already talking like it’s a for sure thing — you having a baby. His baby. 

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up too high.

“Hey. It’s okay,” he almost coos to end your panicked rambling. “We’ll figure it out, I promise. Let’s just take this one step at a time, yeah?”

You take a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Yeah…”

He waits for you in the bedroom while you check the tests in the adjoining bathroom. He offered to come with you, of course, but you told him you could do it on your own. You said they’d probably be negative anyway, that it likely was just stress delaying your period, and that you were just making a fuss over nothing.

It’s quiet for all of ten seconds.

“Fuck!” you shout, a bit louder than you intended, muffled from the bathroom.

Steve winces.

“I take it they were positive?” he questions when you storm back into the bedroom, completely and utterly frazzled.

“We’re so stupid,” you chastise, pacing ahead of the bed. “We’re so, so stupid.”

Steve finds it in him to laugh, still a bit dazed by the results. “We’re not sixteen anymore. We’re married. Married people have kids—”

“But I’m not ready yet!” you shout with wild eyes. Your hands flail at your sides as you gesticulate. “I wanted to wait, like, five years, at least. I wanted to be CCO before we even thought about having kids.”

“Things don’t go as planned sometimes, babe. We know that more than anybody.”

He was right. After saving the world, you shouldn’t be shocked by anything anymore. You were so jaded by the time spring of 1986 rolled around that Vecna hardly scared you. The thought of uprooting your life to raise a child frightened you far more than any alternate dimension and monsters without faces.

“I was just announced Vice President, Steve. No one else in company history has gotten to oversee the marketing department so quickly. You don’t know what it’s like in the firm, alright? It’s vicious. They’ll replace me the second I’m gone.”

“No, they won’t,” the boy says with so much confidence it almost makes you angry.

“You can’t know that—”

“I do know that, actually,” he argues as he slides to the edge of the mattress to meet you. His larger hands engulf your shaking ones. His honey eyes twinkle as they gaze up at you. “‘Cause they’d be idiots to let you go. ’S why I married you, yeah? There’s not another person in the whole world like you.”

“It’s just something I’ve always wanted, you know?” you sigh, less prickly than before, but still visibly terrified. “I’ve been dreaming about corporate savagery since I was twelve…”

Steve grins. “You can still have all that. I’ve seen you set monsters on fire — you can raise a kid and run a company. You’re the most badass person I’ve ever met.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“If I can’t work, we’ll be living on your income. I don’t… I don’t want you to have to work more than you already do.”

“I’ll be okay,” he promises, squeezing your trembling fingers. “You’ll take maternity leave for however long you need to, your coworkers will grovel hands and knees to get you back, and I’ll… I’ll stay home with the baby.”

Your face scrunches with worry. “Is that something you want?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to be a dad, you know? I can’t… I can’t really see myself doing anything else.”

Steve always thought he was broken in that way. His dad was already building businesses by the time he had a kid. He coached Steve to do the same — to graduate, to spend thousands on a degree, to have ten assistants by the time he was twenty-five. But Steve never wanted that. Not Ever. Especially not after the tenth near-death experience.

He just wanted to have a family of his own. 

He wanted to be with you and to be still. That was all. 

“Besides, you always said you wanted a house husband,” he jokes with a crooked smile.

That makes you laugh. A giggle sputters from your lips before you can stop it. The sunshine feeling overpowers your lingering worry.

“I would like that,” you concur with a sheepish grin. 

You can picture it so clearly — Steve with a baby, greeting you with a kiss when you get home, a spit-up towel thrown over his shoulder, hair mussed and jaw stubbled. It was something dreams were made of. 

Your potential reality. 

Your future.

“We’re gonna be the happiest damn people on the planet, babe.”

You lean down to kiss him. It’s hard, though, because you’re both smiling so wide.

Your laughs entwine, pressed into one another, as Steve flops back on the bed and drags you down with him. He rolls you onto your sides, one hand propping his head up and the other resting on your belly. 

My kid is in there, he marvels in his head. This is where my baby’s gonna grow.

“What do you think about Apple?”

Your brows pinch together. “What?”

“For, like, a girl name?”

“…Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Apple for a girl and Wolfgang for a boy,” he jokes with a wide smile on his rosy lips. He shrugs. “And if we have twins, they can be Apple and Wolfgang. Really rolls off the tongue, don’t ya think?”

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

With your hands cradling his jaw, you pull him down for another interrupted kiss.

“What about Moon or— ah,” he gasps with wide eyes. “Or Rainbow?”

“Steve!” you groan.

“What? Tell me Rainbow Harrington isn’t the cutest damn name you’ve ever heard.”

“That is so not a baby name.”

“Anything can be a name if you make it a name,” he argues with all of his Steve Harrington sass. “Like Queen… Or Journey.”

“Yeah, let’s just name all our kids after your favorite bands,” you quip, giggling.

“I know you’re joking, but that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

You shake your head at this boy and his wild head filled with wilder thoughts. 

You sit in silence in your marveling, letting him ramble on — “There’s Roxy and Berlin and- wait, do you think babies can be named after numbers? Because, like, B-52 is a badass name. Sounds like something out of Star Wars, huh?” 

You can’t believe you married this man. You can’t believe you get to be married to this man.

You’re stuck with Steve Harrington and his dumbassery for life.

God, you can’t wait to spend forever with him.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's blurb sleepover

[nonotnolan]

The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

----------------------------------------------

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

#male body merge #male possession #alien possession #hivemind #gay male story #queer romance

[homunculus-argument]

The first night when me and my boyfriend moved into our current apartment, we didn't have any kind of furniture here yet, just a mattress on the floor and his computer propped up on a cardboard box. He thought it would be funny to take a photo of the arrangement and share it on discord like "hey guys check out my gaming rig", after meticulously arranging the scene to look as bleak as possible.

Finland has a beverage bottle/can recycling system where you get a small deposit when you return them to the recycling system at the store. While 10-40 cents apiece may not seem like much, it adds up pretty quickly, and six trash bags full of cans can easily be 30 euros which is significant grocery money. We like to hoard up our soda cans over the course of months and return them all at once, to the point where the bags need a shopping cart to haul, and this one time he wanted to take a picture of our haul to show it off to people unfamiliar with the finnish beverage recycling system.

For the time being, due to not having access to a proper fridge or microwave at his workplace, his work lunches consist of a single can of canned fruit and a protein bar. He took a picture of his week's worth of lunches - five cans of peaches and five bars - to show off his meal prep, once again prompting comments along the lines of "dude what the shit, why do you live like this".

As our hobbies and interests have very little overlap, and we're still working out how to come up with a living arrangement that we would both be happy in, I've had people wonder how we're even together since we seem to have nothing truly in common. But looking at the big picture, the one thing we both truly, genuinely delight in is the joy of doing sensible, pragmatic things in unconventional-looking ways, and showing it off to baffle people like

[softshuji]

You and Hanma make a note of your heights when you first move into your apartment.

You're like kids, giggling as you reach above his head to mark it on the kitchen doorframe, a whopping 6'4 that you can just about reach and even then - only on your tip toes. Childishly, he bends down to mark with a pencil where your head touches the frame and you playfully jab his abdomen when he laughs and says 'How do you manage to be this short?'

Decorating takes weeks, months in fact, Between your job and his, the little time you have for homeware shopping- and even still, neither of you are rich enough to have the apartment decked out the way you'd like. You're both young, starting out even and you think this might be the best part, being able to watch him grow and change, small tidbits of furniture here and there, some bought at second hand stores, because you're much more frugal than he is and neither of you care as long as it's for your own home. You save a lot, though your priorities are somewhat different.

He likes to spend on you. Cute dates, flowers, clothes and most of what he earns goes just like that, on you and the dresses and jewelry you make comments about while you're out. He never misses it, and even though you chastise him often for needlessly spending on you, you know this is how he does it, shows his love.

You look at it every day. The little mark you've made on the doorframe, even as it greys, even as it weathers over the months as they lean towards winter and then spring. Maybe it is childish, maybe you don't care either. And you watch him cycle through the various styles, various changes. His hair as it grows longer, a little more boyish and framing his face, the baggy shirts he exchanges for suits sometimes when he leaves for work in the morning.

'Be safe okay?' you say at the door, like as if it'll change anything by itself. You lean up to kiss him, his hand titled 'sin' around your neck, and yours cupping his cheeks and then he is gone, and you wave and watch him leave, backing away from the apartment with the briefcase in the passenger seat.

Sometimes you wonder how the time passes like this. One day you're moving in, and the next your apartment has a fully functioning kitchen-painted and decorated, the little lines on the doorframe now withered to a faded grey under the white gloss paint. To say you're proud of the two of you would be an understatement, especially when you remember at what little you started with.

'I'm home Princess,' he says later and passes through the doorway of the kitchen, where you turn from the sink to him, drying your hands before you melt inevitably in his arms. He is cold, his hands are chilly when they slide under your shirt and you shiver when they rest on the grooves in your back as he takes you in, your warmth seeping into his bones. You have a habit of staying like that for the first five minutes. Needy kisses that turn hotter and heavier, you shrugging his jacket off to roam your touch over his chest- as if you hadn't seen him a few hours ago, as if it's been forever. Maybe because it has.

'Miss me Sweetheart?' he says between breaths, between soft sighs and eager kisses, his hands resting on your hips and pulling you flush against him in the doorway.

'Nah, don't know what gave you that idea,' you say, pulling open his tie, and tossing it onto the sofa for later before resting your cheek on his chest, the rhythmic thump of his heart now beating on your skin.

'Mhm, sure, the evidence suggests otherwise Pretty Girl.' And he runs a hand from the crown of your head to the dip in your shoulders, holding you tight and against him, where he believes you belong.

'Well your evidence is full of-' You pause, your eyes narrowing shrewdly, your gaze lifting from the little mark on the door, to where a curl of his hair grazes a few centimetres above it. 'You're joking...'

'What? What is it?'

'You're kidding me. Are you actually getting taller?' you say aghast, your lips parting, your jaw dropping in a shocked pout.

He raises an eyebrow in amusement, the amber hue of his eyes flitting from the grey and weathered pencil line on the doorframe to you, still leagues shorter than him. 'oh? Maybe I am, so what? Is there an issue with that Princess?' And he leans over the doorway until your crowded underneath his arm, the shadow of him swallowing the light till you're backed against the doorframe.

'N-no, I mean yes there is! Stop being so tall, I'm going to need a stepladder to kiss you soon.' You huff and cross your arms, and he relishes in how much you shrink under him like that, the soft tremble of your lips that bleeds excitement and anticipation.

'Don't worry, I'll make sure to crouch for you, I know it's hard being so small.'

'God you're so horrible, maybe Draken was right to beat you up nearly 50 times, he wouldn't treat me like this,' you say and roll your eyes for effect, biting your lip to suppress a smirk at how his grin twitches.

'Oh yeah?' He closes a hand around your throat before pulling you flush to him, a lean that closes the distance between your lips before he's sealing them in a heated kiss, his tongue swiping at yours before pulling away when he hears a soft moan. 'Would Draken do that too Sweetheart?'

You blink, your thoughts scattered, a feverish sweat licking across your skin. 'Mhm, maybe not. Never mind, you're forgiven but you're on thin ice!' you say, a finger pointed in his direction, and cursing yourself at how quickly your body betrays you with him, how it chooses him time and time again.

He laughs, presses a kiss to your cheek before wandering to the fridge and strangely enough, somehow, you wonder at how you'll have to fix the strange little marks on the doorframe tomorrow.

I'm sorry, the idea took over and I had to get it out, I was going a bit insane mayhaps. i love him sm i wanna punch him in the face

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #tokyo rev

[msgexymunson]

Please, Say My Name

Virgin!Eddie x Experienced!Fem!Reader

Description: Eddie's obsessed with his older neighbour. When a black out happens, he feels the need to check on her, and finds out his obsession may not be one sided.

A/N: I may or may not be projecting here, 30s reader and all. This was a challenge for me, writing from Eddie's POV (I've never experienced a male orgasm, I'm just guessing haha,) I love a cocky Eddie but cannon I think Eddie is a virgin, so I feel this is the partner he had to make him like he is in all these fan fics lol (maybe why he has so many pet names for girls?) Excuse my British ass for any American idioms that are wrong. Also I feel like reader's slightly southern?

Warnings: sexual tension, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader in her 30s, reference to curves not size, all manner of pet names (sweetheart to reader, all sorts to Eddie, tiger, champ, hot shot, sugar, honey lmao) NSFW, Minors DNI, I will feed you to the wolves, M! Masturbation, voyeurism, perv! Eddie, M! Oral receiving, nipple play, F! Fingering, protected sex (wrap it boys and gals)

5.2k words

Masterlist

Jesus H. Christ she's gonna kill me.

Tiny shorts riding up your ass, sporting a bikini top and bare feet. Bending down, he watches you reaching into the laundry basket. Shorts so tight he can nearly see the outline of your cunt. Standing upright, tits threatening to spill out of your top, the shape of your nipples peeking through the fabric. Stretching up, hanging clothes on the line. Bending again.

Eddie's been staring out the window of his trailer, spying through the makeshift curtains into your yard for the past twenty minutes, utterly transfixed by you, fisting his cock lazily. A bead of pre cum dribbles from the tip of his dick down to his fingers. It mingles with the spit already in his palm. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it, your more mature frame burned into his eyelids. It has been for a while now.

He knows you're in your thirties, at least ten years older than him, but he can't help it. Every movement you make is sensual. He watches your hips rock every time you move to hang your clothes.

When you moved in a couple of months ago, Eddie was laying smoking pot in his room when Wayne had knocked on his door.

"Boy, a new neighbour's moving in next door. You best offer to help her."

Knowing his uncle meant business whenever he called him 'boy', he wandered over to offer his help, and was faced with you. You were wearing some skin tight leggings and a crop top, curves on full display, wrestling with a TV, trying to manoeuvre it into your trailer.

"Hey, need a hand?"

You had jumped at the sudden offer, turned round and saw this sweet looking, messy haired young boy staring at you.

"Well thanks champ, real kind of you." You smiled at him, placing the TV on the floor. He had eyeballed you from top to toe smirking, then grabbed the TV and lifted it like it was nothing.

"In the living room, tiger," you had said at his back, watching his shoulder muscles.

Placing the tv with a small thud, he held his palm out to you.

"I'm Eddie, Eddie Munson."

You placed your manicured hand in his and shook it.

"Well I'm y/n y/l/n, pleasure to meet you sugar." Your voice all honey and cinnamon, you winked at him. Eddie's throat almost shrivelled up at that wink, mouth suddenly dry.

Eddie had moved most of your furniture that day. Not because you were unable, but because he had insisted. You were perfectly happy to allow him, watching that slender frame start to sweat, straining to move some of the heavier items. He was certainly good to look at. Eddie stole glances at you all day, mesmerised by the way you move.

Since then, Eddie had helped you a few times. Needed something from the store? Eddie would jump at the chance. TV aerial playing up again? Eddie was around in a heartbeat fixing it for you. Shitty car broken down? Eddie's sprinting over, offering you a ride.

When he found out you were working as a waitress at the nearby diner he'd make any excuse to visit. He would sit there, attempting to write notes on his next D&D campaign, drinking coffee he didn't enjoy as he thought you wouldn't take him seriously if he bought a milkshake. You would laugh at his little jokes, touch him on his arm, and call him all manner of pet names. He was smitten.

Now, you were a waitress. You flirted with everyone. Hell, your living is mostly based off of tips, Eddie understood that. But it felt like something extra when you flirted with him. Sometimes your hand would linger a little longer on his. He's sure he's never seen you winking at anyone else. When you reached over to refill his cup once and practically paraded your cleavage in front of his face Eddie thought he would spontaneously combust.

As you finish hanging up the washing, you take a moment to stretch your arms, then walk inside. Eddie's shoulders visibly deflate, wanting to finish what he had started.

After a minute you return with something in your hand, making your way over to your lawn chair. You slip your shorts off exposing your skimpy bikini bottoms and Eddie groans loudly, picking up the pace of his languid strokes. Running your fingers under the tie sides you pulled them further up your hips, the material gathering slightly at your ass. Eddie is sweating, watching your every move, tightening his grip on his cock.

Laying down, you open your palm; it was sun lotion that you had carried from inside. When you shake some out of the bottle and proceed to rub it casually onto the tops of your breasts Eddie chokes on a cry, fucking his fist faster, spraying his cum all over his hand.

He knows he shouldn't have, and he knows he should clean himself up and snap out of it, but you're still rubbing lotion in your skin, manicured hands stroking all over your body, he's utterly enthralled, and he's already getting hard again. Fuck.

****************************

A couple of weeks later Eddie's getting ready for a blind date that Gareth twisted his arm into attending. He truly hates set ups, but he made a promise and that's that. Fussing with his hair, he slings on a burgundy button down shirt, paired with his usual black jeans and combat boots. Deciding to do without his jacket since it's been hot as hell these last few weeks, he stuffs his cigarettes into his pocket and makes his way outside.

Hearing a wolf whistle he turns around, confused. You're sitting in your lawn chair, smoking a cigarette, enjoying the balmy air, wearing nothing but sleep shorts and a tank top.

"Well hey handsome, where you off to?" You call over. Eddie steps closer, drawn to you, hands in his back pockets.

"Just some blind date, nothin' special." He shrugs.

"A date huh? Well come here, let me take a proper look at you."

Eddie swallows and hesitantly steps forward.

"Turn around." He's obeying before he even knows what's happening, turning on the spot, arms open.

"Hmmm," you say, standing up directly in front of him, impossibly close. Eddie can smell your musky, sweet perfume, and is desperately trying to control the blush that he knows is begging to crawl over his cheeks.

You reach out with your painted fingernails and touch his chest. Eddie's sure his heart stops beating for a second. Staring at his chest, you pop open one of his shirt buttons, and then another, exposing his guitar pick necklace. Eddie's stopped breathing, mouth hanging open. The bulge in his jeans is starting to become noticeable.

You look up and smile.

"There, that's better." You pat his chest, hand lingering for a moment.

"B-better?" Eddie stammers out.

"Yeah, a real stud." You lean towards him, tilting your head upwards to whisper in his ear. "I mean, I would."

Eddie can feel his blood rushing all the way to the roots of his hair. He's speechless.

You turn away from him, putting your cigarette out. Walking towards your trailer you call over your shoulder. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Flabbergasted, Eddie can only stare at you, eyes never leaving your back until your door closes.

****************************

Well, that was a complete waste of my time.

Eddie's pissed. He had waited for over an hour but his date never showed. Driving back to the trailer park in his van, metal blasting from the speakers despite the late hour, he pulled up outside his home. Wayne's car was gone, he must have left for work already.

Storming into the trailer, he was angry, not just at the date but at himself. What if she did turn up, took one look at him and left? He really didn't need some mystery girl making him feel inadequate, he did that well enough himself.

Sighing, he threw his van keys haphazardly on the table and turned on the light switch. Nothing happened. He tried again. Then he tried the TV. Nothing.

"Well, shit." He said to the darkness.

Stepping back out the front door he looked around the trailer park. Pitch black. In his anger he hadn't even noticed. His eyes were inexplicably pulled to your trailer. He thought he could see a dim flickering light through the blinds.

He could knock. A concerned neighbour, just checking in on her because of the black out.

I wonder if she's still wearing those little shorts.

He took a deep breath and strode over, climbing the steps to your front door. Fuck, what do I say?

Too late, his hand was already rapping on the door. Silence for a moment.

"Who is it?" Your voice rang out.

"It's Eddie, just checking on you" when the fuck did my voice get so squeaky, Jesus.

He heard the sound of security chains clanking and the latch clicking softly. Then there you were in your tiny pyjamas, bathed in candlelight, your hair loose around your shoulders. Eddie thought you looked like you had wandered in from a story, a dream.

"Well hey you. You're back early. How'd the date go?" You tilted your head at him, eyes shining.

"It er, didn't. She blew me off."

"Well, she don't know what's she's missing. Wanna come in?" You gesture to the old chintz couch that he had helped you move in months before. A coffee table he doesn't recognise sits in front of it with three fat lit candles. Eddie nods eagerly and moves inside whilst you lock the door again.

You move over to an old wooden sideboard, a further collection of candles sitting there, and pour yourself a bourbon.

"You want one?"

"Yeah sure."

You pour another, grabbing some ice from the ice box and put a couple of cubes in each glass. You go to hand one to him. When he reaches out to grab it you pull it back suddenly.

"Hang on a minute big guy, how old are you?" You screw your eyebrows, examining his face.

"I turn 21 in like 3 weeks!" Eddie protested.

"Ah, another way to say your 20. Hmmm. Well you're lucky I already poured it, hot shot. Here you go. One drink mind. Don't wanna get you into trouble." You giggle, face slightly flushed. Eddie definitely believes this isn't your first drink of evening.

Sitting on the couch you cross your legs, shorts riding high up your thigh. You look into Eddie's eyes, smiling at him from the corner of your mouth.

"So, came to check on lil old me?"

"Well yeah, wanted to make sure you were ok."

"You're always checking on me ain't ya sugar. Always." You reach over and squeeze his knee.

Eddie nearly chokes taking a sip of the bourbon but tries to disguise it as a cough. The touch of your hand on his leg is all consuming.

"Well, yeah, I mean you're on your own over here. I just wanted to make sure you're safe."

"Well ain't you a slice of cutie pie." You stand up, "I'm just gonna powder my nose honey." Walking off you make your way to the bathroom, hips swaying.

Eddie takes the opportunity to look around the room, perusing the photos on the walls as best he can in the dim light. A framed picture over the sideboard stops him in his tracks. He stares at it in disbelief.

You return, taking your drink off the side board and having a sip.

"You- do you know Deep Purple??" Eddie exclaims, pointing at the photo.

"Ha, yeah a little. I mean, I knew a lot of bands back in the day. Only groupie to end up with a roadie I swear." You chuckle to yourself, making your way to the couch.

Groupie??

"Oh, I didn't know you were seeing anyone." Eddie shrinks down, perching on the edge of the couch.

"Not any more. Why do you think I ended up here? Half my stuff is still with that moron. I swear I have better taste in furniture than this junk" You shrug, tipping back your drink.

"Oh. I'm sorry sweetheart." Eddie moves on instinct, reaching out to stroke your hand in comfort.

"You don't have a single thing to be sorry for kid, don't worry about it."

Eddie feels a sudden spark of bravery. He's never gotten you to open up before about your own life.

"You know, I'm in a band." He sips his drink, trying not to cough.

"Oh really, I'm not surprised. You look like a musician." Running your hand up and down his thigh. Fuck, is she for real? Eddie can't help trembling slightly. "too nice to be one though."

"Hey, I can be a gentleman and a guitarist. Why not?" Eddie puffs out his chest and daringly reaches to touch you on the cheek. You grab his hand before it can even make contact.

"Look, you're a nice boy. I'm not gonna lie, you're hot as sin, but I'm not sure I wanna be the one to mess with that 'knight in shining armor' shit you've got going on, okay champ?" You pull his hand from your face, but you don't let go. Slender fingers tracing patterns on his rings.

She thinks you're hot as sin.

"Do you think I'm too young for you?" Eddie's voice quavers, but he's dragging your hands to his mouth, settling kisses to your fingers, lapping at the tips of your manicured fingers with his tongue.

"Fuck," distracted for a moment, "I never said that, I just, don't think I should be the one to mess with you first is all."

Eddie's cheeks burn red.

"Is it that obvious?" He looks down, releasing your hands, unable to meet your gaze. Humiliation weighs on his chest.

"Oh honey, don't feel bad, I read people for a living." You smile softly at him.

"Maybe I," Eddie begins, brown doe eyes seeking yours, "maybe I want you to be first. I mean, I might not know what I'm doing," Eddie half hides behind his hair at that, "but I want to. Maybe you could, teach me, you know?"

You laugh, the throaty sound reverberating through the trailer.

"Oh darlin', you don't know what you're asking."

"Oh I think I do. And I think you want it too. I've seen you looking at me." Cockiness edges his voice, sounding braver than he felt.

You scoot nearer to him, closing the gap between you, hot bodies making contact. Your knee rests on his leg, hand stroking up the exposed skin on his chest. Heat pours from the both of you. The heady scent of your perfume invades Eddie's senses, making it difficult to focus when you are so near. He can feel his cock stiffening.

"Oh, and you think I don't notice you too? Your eyes on me whenever I bend over? Eyeballin' my tits when I'm tryin' to do my job?" 

Eddie's breath is unsteady, shaking, heaving at his chest. Your touch is setting him ablaze. The heat in the trailer is stifling.

"Well, I'm sorry but," he takes a deep breath, trying to will his usual confidence to kick in. "You're so fucking hot, I don't know what to do with myself." He turns his head towards you, eyeing your lips in the flickering candlelight.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." You smirk at him.

Go on, grow a pair, kiss her.

Eddie sneaks his hand to the back of your head warily, eyes darting to your mouth. You make no move to stop him, gazing at him with half lidded eyes. Gulping, he closes the gap, pressing a kiss to your full lips. You grab his shirt in your fist and pull him closer. Eddie takes that as the best sign he can get right now, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. You taste of bourbon, cigarettes and something sweet he can't place. His tongue pushes into you almost greedily, mapping out every inch of your mouth. It's sloppy and eager, but passionate. You run your hand up Eddie's lap, inching towards his crotch. Eddie thinks this must be some sort of fever dream as you palm him through his jeans, it takes everything he has not to cum on the spot.

Allowing his hand to drop from cradling your head, it drifts downward, cupping your breast. When his rough fingers brush your nipple over your thin top you break the kiss to allow a moan to escape your mouth.

Eddie mouths at your neck, leaving a succession of wet kisses. Clambering into his lap you straddle him and push him off your neck and back into the couch.

"You are making it real hard to say no honey." You smile from your new seat, fingers flirting down Eddie's chest.

Its Eddie's turn to grin at you smugly. He runs his palms firmly up your thighs.

"Sweetheart, you never said no."

"Well, you may have a point there sugar." And you lift your tank top over your head, revealing your bare chest.

"Holy Shit." Eddie's now convinced, this can't possibly be real. There's no way this goddess of a woman is straddling him topless right now. He knows he's blushing but he doesn't care. He's not even sure he can move right now. Far too scared to speak in case it comes out in a high pitched squeak and then you'll never show them to him again.

"Honey, you can touch them. Jesus have you never seen a pair of tits before?" You giggle, then your eyes widen. "Shit, you haven't have you?"

Eddie just barely manages to tear his eyes away and look you in the face.

"I mean, girls aren't exactly lining up at the door for Eddie 'The Freak' Munson." He scoffs.

You lean forward, slowly unbuttoning the remainder of his shirt.

"Aw, poor baby." Flipping open his shirt you rake your nails down his chest, giving him goose bumps. Eddie's breath catches in his throat.

"You just need someone to take care of you, don't cha?" Grinding into his lap.

Eddie's eyes roll back, his whole body feeling like a raw, exposed nerve. Electricity bolting through him with every roll of your hips.

You bring his hands up to your nipples, encouraging him. Eddie's fingertips brush them softly, feeling them harden to his ministrations. Your reaction to his touch emboldens him; leaning forward he presses soft lips to your breast. Once, twice, three times, and then he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks gently.

"Oh fuck, Eddie."

You'd never said his name before yet you purr it now. That breathy, impassioned sound sends a shiver throughout his body. If he could just hear one thing for the rest of his life, from now until eternity, it would be you saying his name. He wants to see if he can make you scream it.

He whips his tongue around your nipple, trying to find what makes you make the loudest noises, gripping onto your hips tightly. You rock in his lap, moaning in encouragement.

Climbing off his lap, you settle between his legs on your knees. Eddie's fit to burst, watching you rake those painted nails of yours up the inside of his thighs.

"You still want this sugar?" Fingertips creeping to Eddie's belt, biting your lip.

"Hell yeah!" Lightning fast he pops his belt undone, along with the button and zip on his jeans, and pulls them down unceremoniously along with his boxers. His member springs out, thwapping against his stomach.

"Well big guy, if the girls knew about this they'd be lining up 'round the block." Your smile looks dipped in wickedness.

"R-really?" Eddie stammers, shuddering as you take his length into your palm, strokes firm but painfully slow.

"Hmmm" bending down you take the tip into your mouth, stroking with the flat of your tongue.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Eddie scrunched his eyes shut, "sweetheart, please."

"What's wrong honey?" You lick up and down his length, fisting his cock covered in your spit.

"If you, fuck, if you carry on I'm gonna cum."

You look at him with a mischievous glint in your eye, and take his cock fully into your throat, hollowing your cheeks. Eddie physically convulses, groaning loudly. He can't possibly look at you, if he does he won't be able to hold it in.

Letting go with a lewd wet dribble, you stand up, and go to remove your shorts. Eddie's hands shoot out to stop you. Looking at him with the question in your mind, he flashes you a toothy grin.

"Let me." Dark lustful eyes fixed on your waistband. You allow him the pleasure. He runs his fingers along your shorts, inching them down slowly, kissing the uncovered skin. The shorts stick slightly between your legs, causing Eddie to have to peel them down. He cannot help but see how wet they are. He can smell you. It's faint but musky, and sweet, almost like your perfume. He's obsessed. His hand hovers near your heat, looking up for confirmation.

Collecting his fingers in yours, you pull two to your mouth and suck them, gathering saliva. Eddie watches you, mouth open, enraptured. You guide his fingers down, down, to the front of your folds. When his fingers graze your swollen nub you sigh audibly.

"That there honey, you feel that? That's my clit." Eddie nods emphatically, not exactly in a position to form words right now. He runs sloppy circles over it, slipping with the mix of slick and spit, watching your face with wide open eyes, watching how you throw your head back a little, how your mouth parts slightly, how you tremble. He presses down and you cry out, knees buckling.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You grab his shoulders, "why don't you lie back so I can take care of you?"

Brows furrowing, Eddie says "Can- can I try and, er, take care of you? I mean, I'm 'bout to explode and I really want to make you feel good." Eddie begs with his eyes. If he can make you come undone beneath him he can die a happy man.

"Sure baby. Always wanna take care of me huh?" You lie back on the sofa, opening your legs to him.

"Holy Shit." Eddie scrambles over to you, forgetting he still has his pants round his ankles and nearly falls. You giggle at his antics. Untangling himself, he throws his shirt off that's still hanging on him unbuttoned.

Eager fingers make their way back to your pussy, rubbing on your clit, eliciting a little moan from you.

"Do you wanna stick your fingers in me honey?"

Yes, Eddie would like that very much.

Eddie's fingers are guided to your entrance. You wrap your hand around his middle and ring fingers, and line them up. Eddie understands, probing at you hesitantly at first, rubbing, gathering your wetness on his fingers, then pushes them all the way in. He's rewarded with a low whine from you, back arching off the couch.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, sitting up on his knees, watching your face, how your tits move, and his fingers disappearing inside your cunt.

Eddie is determined to see you cum on his fingers. He needs to see you unravel. What if he never gets this opportunity again? He needs to commit to memory every sigh, every twitch, every time you say his name. God, especially the times you say his name.

He's trying different things, how he moves, the speed of it, feeling your impossibly tight wet pussy around him when all of a sudden he curls his fingers up and...

Oh.

Your reaction is visceral and immediate. Eddie keeps curling his fingers up. His hand is cramping; it hurts but he doesn't give a shit. Not when Aphrodite incarnate is laying below him, bathed in candlelight, moaning in ecstasy.

"Oh Eddie, oh my God, just like that, fuck."

You're writhing beneath him, moaning, your glistening body shining in the dim light. Eddie speeds up his motions, biting his lip. He's never been so hard in all his life. Suddenly you're clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move, bucking against his hand.

'Oh Eddie!"

That fractured, high pitched scream of his name is the best thing he's ever heard. Back arched, your hands flying to his arm to still his movements, face in shock.

Breathlessly you manage to say "I thought you'd never done this before?"

Eddie's grin is smug and mischievous. "You think I would lie about that?"

He removes his fingers from inside of you, pleased as can be when you whine and frown a little at the loss.

"Do you have a condom sugar?"

Eddie looks wildly around the room, eyes settling on his discarded clothes. Finding his wallet he pulls one out with a flourish and a flash of teeth.

"You always walk around with that?" You smile at him.

"What can I say, I live in hope!" You giggle and Eddie thinks it's the second best thing he's heard from your mouth.

Now, I think I know how to do this...

The worry must be evident in his face as you hold your hand out and Eddie puts the condom in it with relief. You rip the wrapper with your teeth and roll the condom down his length, spitting in your hand and stroking him a few times. Eddie looks anywhere else he can, he can't possibly look at you handling his dick. He doesn't want this to be over yet.

You lie back and Eddie moves on top of you. Holding his length you line him up and he starts pushing into you devastatingly deep.

"Jesus, baby, you're so big."

Eddie can't think of those words slipping from your beautiful lips. All he can think of is the tight, impossible warmth he's sinking into. Your cunt is squeezing him like a vice, like  nothing he's ever felt before.

"Darlin, look at me." Eddie's eyes are scrunched up, holding himself up by his outstretched arms. He opens his eyes.

"Fuck you're beautiful." He strokes the side of your face, moving a couple of loose hairs that had stuck to you.

"You're very sweet. You can move now honey."

"Say my name." He stares into your eyes, pupils blown black with lust.

You look slightly taken quick by the dominance but recover quickly, flashing him an easy smile, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Please fuck me Eddie."

I've gone insane. How else could this be happening? I've lost my mind, made it up.

He'd believe that if he couldn't feel how amazing it felt being sheathed inside of you. He pulled slowly out, feeling the drag of your walls around his cock, then pushed back in.

Jesus Christ.

Eddie's a little unsure, trying to set a pace, trying to judge it on the noises you make, but he knows he's absolutely not going to last. The feelings too intense, rocking into you, watching that gorgeous face looked so fucked beneath him, it's everything he's wanted and more.

Shifting a bit, he gets up on his knees and pulls your legs around his waist, holding your knees, and thrusts into you.

"Oh Eddie, yes!" Your eyes are rolling back, closing, a continuous stream of moans escaping your mouth.

This is better. This is deeper. Eddie can feel everything, from the tips of his fingers to the tip of his cock to the tips of his toes. He thrusts harder, deeper, pulling you bodily into him, fingers pressing hard into your flesh. He can feel you clenching around his length and fucks into you with everything he has, sweat dripping down his back. His orgasm goes off like a gunshot, pumping his seed into the condom. You tighten even further, cumming with a mantra, a prayer, a plea of his name, over and over and over.

Eddie falls into you, feeling the sweaty sheen of his skin and yours intermingling, the heave of your breasts against his chest. You pant in unison, coming down.

Just about managing to lift his head, he looks at you and smiles, you look right back, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his. Eddie can't help it. He chuckles, the laughter coming from deep in his chest, shaking his body. You giggle back, post orgasm haze sprinkled over the whole room.

Eddie plants a kiss to your soft lips.

"Was that, erm, okay?" Eddie knows he sounds like a kid in this moment, but he had to know. He has to hear it from you.

"Eddie, you're a fuckin' natural." You smile, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose.

He grins wolfishly at that. Peeling your flesh from his in the sticky heat he sits up and pulls the condom off. You gesture to a waste paper basket and he chucks the rubber in there.

Eddie leans back on you, arms encasing your head, nose to nose.

"Good enough to do again?" His grin is arrogant but his eyes are sincere.

"You're a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Sweetheart, you never said no."

You laugh loudly at that, pulling him in for a slow kiss. Bodies pressed against each other in the flickering light, heat of sex and summer radiating off the pair of you, utterly lost in the moment.

****************************

The heat wave showed no sign of stopping, though thankfully the blackout only lasted until morning. Eddie had snuck back next door in the early hours, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

It was early afternoon, and Eddie was standing outside, having a smoke and trying to catch a hint of breeze.

Uncle Wayne had stepped outside too, sparking a cigarette.

"What you smiling about son?" Wayne looks out the corner of his eye at Eddie.

"Nothin' Sir, just happy."

You exit your trailer, fanning yourself in the heat, ready for your shift. You look over and see your neighbours.

Waving at them, you walk closer.

Eyes on Wayne, you wave, "hey sugar how you doin'?"

"I'm good miss, workin' hard."

"Well, don't you work too hard honey." You smile, swaying your hips. 

Looking over at Eddie, he flashes you the cheekiest look, smile crinkling his eyes. You flush in response.

"Hey Eddie."

"Hey."

An uncontrollable smirk is on your face as you open your car, looking bashful for once.

Wayne looks at Eddie's face, then at your blushing cheeks, and back to Eddie.

"What?" Eddie shrugs his shoulders at his uncle, unable to control the beaming smile that's plastered on his face.

Wayne shakes his head. He sees your car drive off and goes to walk past Eddie back to the trailer, putting his cigarette out on the ground.

At the last minute, Wayne holds his hand up, palm flat, fingers splayed. Eddie gives his uncle a high five. Wayne continues to shake his head, walking back inside. 

#eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #strangerthingsedit #stranger things fan fic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #ms gexy writes

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 6: Missing Someone

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: Mountain Ranger! Ari x Reader

Summary: It’s time to tell all and talk about each other’s pasts

Word Count: 2,417

Content/Warnings: ANGST, kissing, use of pet names, no-good exs, crying and near-crying, miscommunication but it’s resolved

Author’s Note: I was gonna make it bad, but then I realized, it’s not like this couple to have a huge blowout fight and misunderstanding. They’re too good at talking it out.

Shoutout to my childhood friend I visited last week for helping me write this. He won’t read it, but I appreciate him indulging my thought process. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo welcome and appreciated!!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Below is the song which inspired this chapter. It makes me very sad tbh. I skip it a lot when listening.

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You and Ari were going to build a new dresser in your bedroom. It had been nearly six months of being together officially. Your old furniture was breaking down already, so the two of you had gone shopping. Ari insisted he was just going so that he could provide his truck for hauling it, but you knew that wasn’t the case when he turned down the first three you liked.

“No, that one won’t match the wood grains of your cabin.”

“What’s the material on that one? Pressed composite? No good.”

“Sure Duchess, that one could work…if you’re blind.”

You rolled your eyes at that last one,

holding back a laugh. Sure, those were valid reasons, but any minor criticism was something you took personally. He didn’t even live with you! Finally, you’d gotten him to agree to a nice, subtle piece that complemented your bed frame without clashing against the rest of the cabin. The only issue was, you had to build it.

Once the two of you had gotten home from the furniture store, you were exhausted. Not only from the shopping, but from long drive since you had to go to the nearest city with hopes of finding anything good.

After eating dinner, you and Ari settled on the couch together, cuddling to catch up on the show you two were binging at the moment. Sure, you usually preferred to do things away from screens, but sometimes, there was nothing that could replace classic, trashy TV. The dresser could wait. Ari was laying on his back and you were laying directly on top of him, ear over his steady heartbeat until you drifted to sleep.

You began to stir awake and stretch when you realized the TV wasn’t playing anymore. Strong hands stroked your back and your eyelids fluttered open. Your sleepy pupils sparkled and dilated as you moved your chin to Ari’s chest to see him looking down at you the same way, him not even realizing the way he smiled when you were within this eye sight.

“Well good morning handsome.” Your voice was full of sleep.

“Good morning.” Ari leaned forward to kiss your nose as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Looks like it really is morning. 2:47 am.”

You hummed in response. “I think we kinda threw off our sleep schedule with what was supposed to be a nap.”

Ari nodded and laughed. “Oh definitely. But now we’ve got all this time to be productive. You wanna build that dresser?”

You groaned and threw your head into his chest, smushing it your nose and mouth. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You groaned and sighed before your muffled voice came out against his pecs again. “Lemme go pee first.”

You pushed off of Ari’s chest, causing him to exhale most of the air in his lungs with a laugh before he watched you scurry to the bathroom.

Ari got up and walked toward your room to get started on the dresser while he waited for you. Just as he sat on the floor straddling the instructions and some spare parts, he heard a buzzing coming from the nightstand, lighting up your dim bedroom.

“Duchess, your phone is ringing.” He yelled out the bedroom door.

“You can get it. I’ll be out soon. It could be important since they’re calling this time of night.” He heard your faint response.

With a groan, Ari stood up again and took the few large strides towards your nightstand, picking up the phone off the charger. The number wasn’t saved.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is that you? I miss you s’much. You should come over.” A man slurred from the other side of the line.

Ari was confused. He knew the area code of the phone number wasn’t from around here, but who was this man and why was he calling at this hour?

“Who is this?” Ari gritted out the words. He was beginning to feel something. There was anger, there was frustration. He was hurt that this seemed like something that was kept from him. The man on the other side of the line continued to call out your name.

“It’s me. It’s Oscar. Where are you? My bed’s cold.”

That got Ari. It hit him where it hurts and he felt a pang in his chest. He hung up the phone and stalked over to the bathroom where you were washing your hands as his hands shook. You hadn’t looked up yet.

“Hey Bear, was it anything important?” You were met with silence, only Ari’s heavy breathing and the sound of running water filling the air. When he finally spoke up, you could hear a near-growl in his voice.

“Who is Oscar?” Your head darted up and your wide eyes met his through the mirror. You shut off the water, dried your hands, and turned around.

“He’s no one. No one that we should be concerned about, anyway. Why did he call?”

You could see the worry on Ari’s brow and the tears that threatened to fill his reddening eyes. “He said his bed was cold. He misses you. Is there something I don’t know?”

You broke your gaze with Ari, looking at your shifting feet on the cool floor while you fiddled with your fingertips. You took a deep breath and a step towards Ari, surprised by him taking a step back. He’d been hurt before and he didn’t need it coming from you, too. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his distance.

“Oscar is my ex. I should’ve known it would be him calling at this hour.” Ari’s look of hurt took on even more emotion; it was his turn to be confused.

“So he calls you often at this time of night? When I’m not around? And you don’t tell me? Do you always pick it up?”

You shook your head, reaching out to Ari, glad that this time he let your set your hands on his waist.

“No.” You whispered back, your watery gaze meeting his. “I know you and I have been a little private with our pasts, but I think it’s time we tell each other everything.”

Ari nodded as you followed him to the couch. A place where you two had just had your bodies pressed together found you sitting on opposite ends, your legs criss-crossed in front of you and Ari’s long legs out to the side. You weren’t touching at all as you pulled a pillow up against your chest for comfort and took a deep breath, preparing to start.

You told Ari everything. All about the relationship. The expectations, the lies, the late night phone calls, the broken promises, the new girl after the breakup. He nodded along, keeping a mostly level face, although he maintained a mild layer of disgust. How could someone so awful keep you for so long? You were too good for Oscar. Heck, Ari thought to himself, you were too good for him, too. But he would spend the rest of his life becoming better for you if he had to.

As Ari was taking it all in, you continued on. “Mostly during the relationship, but even for a few months after, he would still call me late at night. It’s been over a year since the last time. I honestly thought he would’ve forgotten all about me by now. I don’t have his contact saved anymore. Something must’ve happened, though. But it’s not my problem. He was always whiskey drunk and saying he missed me, just like this time, but I knew that wasn’t the case.”

You looked up at Ari. He seemed like he was beginning to understand. “When we were dating, I fell for it. I fell for all the sweet, yearning things he would say, and I’d come over. We’d dance down the hallway and fall into his bed. We’d lay there and talk, well, it was almost always him doing the talking and lying until the sun came up. I really lost my voice over that whole thing.”

Ari felt such deep sadness for you. His favorite thing was when you would talk passionately about something random or speak your mind against the popular opinion. To hear that someone took that away, someone didn’t appreciate you and your amazing qualities, made him want to scream. His jaw clenched and he kept his silence, grateful for the full insight on your life. If Ari ever met Oscar, well, who knows what would happen to that punk?

Your voice began to break as you sniffled. “I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me, or break my heart, but I felt used. Like I was a late night lonely drug. I know he thought he loved me, and he would say that I was all he wanted, but I think he just wanted someone. At one point, I wished that I was that one he wanted, but I think a part of me always knew I wasn’t.”

Ari had crept closer again over the duration of your story. He pulled you in tight to his chest and rubbed your back as you wept, tears staining his old t-shirt. He had no idea how someone so awful could bring down someone so amazing, so angelic. You were everything. The sun rose and and set on you for Ari.

He pulled away and set his eyes deeply on yours, his hands holding your fingers. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You deserve the world. Anyone who can’t see that was never worthy to even be in your presence.” He kissed your forehead and your eyes gently closed at the gesture as a soft smile graced your face again at his true, genuine sweetness.

“You are the world. You’re my world, and I’m going to spend as long as I have to so you can see how much you mean to me. Every day, I’m going to do everything I can to give you the love you deserve. To show you just how much I really, truly, honestly love you.”

You sat there, mouth agape in shock. There it was. That was the first time either of you had dared to say the L-word to each other. It wasn’t haphazardly thrown out there as a last-ditch effort to stay. It wasn’t overused and thin. It was heavy, it was intentional, and it was true. It carried such a weight to it, but your were sure Ari wouldn’t have dropped it had he not meant the word with his whole soul.

You felt it too, though. That was the part that astounded you. There was no other person who you believed could ever hold a place so fitting for the word love. There was only Ari.

“I love you, too.” You spoke firmly, gazing into his bright blue eyes, lit up extra from his beaming smile. His hand moved up to your cheek and he leaned in for a kiss. His soft lips met yours as your tongues danced together. There was no greed, no rush. Just love.

When you pulled away, you rested your foreheads against each other. You sighed and giggled. “While I’m out here being honest. I feel like there’s something else I should tell you.”

Ari’s head tilted to the side, confused on what other bombshell you could be hiding. The truth was, you had never been completely forthright with your thoughts.

“Did I do something to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me before?” You could hear the wavering in his tone. After such a vulnerable moment, what else could be coming?

“No, no, that’s not at all what’s going on. It’s just…ugh….” You were beginning to grow frustrated with yourself. There was so much you kept locked inside as a result of how Oscar hurt you. You were elated it was coming out for Ari to see. He deserved to know every side of you, but words were hard to formulate in the right way.

“I’m sorry. I want to communicate more openly with you. But it’s scary. I thought when you found out about everything with Oscar, you’d judge me for it. You’d look at me differently.” He shook his head, about to speak up before you cut him off.

“I want to be able to explain it all fully. I should’ve told you all this sooner. I knew once I gave you everything, it would lock me in. It would have solidified everything in a way we can’t come back from. You knowing all the details of my life. I didn’t want it to blow up, because I knew if it did, I would never recover. If I’m being honest, I was so scared to give it all over to you because I’ll never get it back.”

Ari’s blew out a puff of air, processing your words. He simply nodded, allowing you to finish. He completely understood where you were coming from. To trust someone so deeply again after pain like that was the scariest thing he could think of, and he was going through it, too. He was just glad you did trust him. Because he’d give you everything you deserved and more in a heartbeat. The two of you weren’t locked in to anything bad at all, you were just securing yourselves in something you already knew.

After all the heaviness, you made an attempt to lighten the mood. “And, I think you should know, I’m completely capable of assembling a dresser by myself. There are just some times I ask you for help because I want to spend time with you. Not because I need it.”

You winked and Ari heartily laughed in response. “Is that also why you asked me if I needed help cooking dinner last week?”

It was your turn to laugh, throwing you head back before pulling it forward and shaking it back and forth. “No. Sometimes I offer help because I can’t stand to watch as you do something wrong.”

Ari playfully rolled his eyes and pulled you in close for one of his signature bear hugs. He spoke into your hair. “Well, I’m just happy you keep me around. And I’m always happy to do whatever, right by your side, like a true partner. I love you.”

You both inhaled each other’s scents deeply. “I love you, too.”

When you pulled away, Ari opened up and told you everything about his past, too.

Next >

Bonus A/N: reverence is rare and lies are plentiful

Series Taglist:

@patzammit

@hawkeyes-queen

@identity2212

#Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson x you #Ari Levinson fanfiction #Ari Levinson angst #mountaineer monday #mountain ranger ari #mountain ranger! ari x reader #mountain ranger ari x reader #mountain ranger! ari #red sea diving resort #Ari Levinson fluff #Chris Evans #bigger houses #bigger houses series #bigger houses chapter 6 #bigger houses chapter 6: missing someone #missing someone #dan + shay #dan and shay

[the-phantom-author]

Wilbur Soot| Pregnancy headcanons

I have these set to be posted at a certain time, I hope it works, I would like for these to be while I sleep. Enjoy.

@starsyoubreaklikesugardust thank you for being willing to yell at me if these aren't up, also some real real dadbur coming up soon, I got these and thought I'll do the rest later. So look forward to that.

I’m not going to say that Wilbur is afraid of commitment, but I will say he doesn’t like stagnation. This is why he moves a lot or is always traveling, so having a child was never something on his bingo card.

You know this, this is why when you miss a period and start throwing up in the morning, and can’t stomach some of your favorite food, it raises suspicion for both of you. This being said, being pregnant is not even a serious thought that comes to mind.

Being the hypochondriac that he is, Wilbur wants you to get a professional to check you out. The both of you are in for a surprise. It is a stage of shock for a while, it just doesn’t sink in for a week or two. Then comes the one night, after a really tough day of hormones being absolutely everywhere the two of you are in bed, getting ready for bed, right as you’re on the edge of sleep he just softly lets you know that “we got this”

This man? Never misses a single one of your appointments, he wants to be there, both to support you and so he knows that you and the baby are safe and healthy. He’s just going to be sitting there, in the chair next to you, and taking notes. When leaving he always makes sure to put up the little flyers on the reception desk.

Anytime that he is not home with you, whether it’s because he is filming with Tommy, in the Studio, or whatever, if he’s not doing anything he is reading a parenting book or some mommy blogger’s page.

When he is home, or really just around you, he’s doing everything for the both of you. Constantly making sure you have water, rubbing your ankles, getting you snacks, extra blankets, honestly whatever.

He loves shopping for the baby, everytime he leaves the house he’ll come home with something for the kid. Be it a toy, some clothes, a little blanket. He will spend hours in different stores just looking at the different nursery set ups, everytime he sees something that he thinks looks nice and you’re not with him, he always takes a picture of it and sends it to you.

He is laughably bad at putting furniture together, you can not trust him to put things together by himself. You have to supervise him while he putting things together. Like when he puts the dresser together you have to tell him multiple times that he has the wrong piece, is is grabbing the wrong screwdriver.

He gets in his head about his kid not liking him, that he’s going to be so busy and not see the important moments or that he won’t know how to connect with them. He’s just an anxious baby, who needs your reassurance. Hold him, point out the parts of his personality that you know would make him a fun dad. He returns this in kind when you have you’re moments, honestly he does it even when you are not have a moment. You could just be lying in bed and he’d be “You’re so kind, and patient and pretty. That last has nothing to do with you being a mom, but it’s still true. ”

Cries upon finding out the baby is a girl. Big fat tears and is not ashamed of it. This is the point where he starts to talk to anyone and everyone about it. He would not be one to share it online or on stream, but does absolutely tells anyone who he comes across in real life. He could be in a line in a grocery store and he’s just chatting to anyone about it. In the middle of a lovejoy practice? “Mark did you know at 26 weeks-”

He cannot hack being in the delivery room, he can’t. He’d be sitting outside of the room, a full ball of stress and anxiety, just hoping that everything ends alright. The moment he comes back into the room and sees her he is in tears again. Like his perfect daughter, right there, in person sitting there with his other perfect girl. He’s just so in love with the both of you.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #pregnancy

[gffa]

I've been watching a lot of this cleaning channel because it's great for motivation to go clean stuff, where it's not about ~*transforming*~ the space (which can be very fun to watch, too) but just about taking a hoarder's space and actually Going Through The Stuff And Cleaning Up. The channel is very soothing because the host is someone who actually has read up on what causes hoarding, he knows that you can't just take a shovel to that stuff (you will making the hoarding worse if you clean without the consent of the hoarder, but also there's always genuinely valuable stuff in there, you can't just shovel it out the door, you have to go through it), like Oh I Feel So Seen. But this video in particular hit really hard today because it's from a "clean" hoarder and ohhhh that's it, that's what I've been dealing with. It was never that there was a bug or rodent infestation, if ever there was so much as a single ant in the house, everything was pulled out to scrub things down and get every last one taken care of, the only real dirt was dust in the places nobody could reach. It was just. Stuff everywhere. In the video, there was a moment in the kitchen when he pulled out a little bin of old cell phones and I felt a moment of Kinship and, about two hours later, when I was back to cleaning out dad's hoard, you know what I found? Old cellphones. It just smacked me in the face all over again. It's also the commentary about how, in every hoarder house he goes to, he finds things like old medication or pill bottle (oh my god I have been able to finally throw away what must be over 50 of them, and so much old medication has also been thrown), paperwork mixed in with junk mail (I'm not kidding, if you piled up all the paperwork/junk mail mom and I had to go through, it would have been about five feet high), or hoarded food (literal hundreds of plastic grocery bags full of expired food I hauled out) and it just hits over and over again how much I'm resonating with everything there. Anyway, if you want to know what I'm working with, basically it's a lot like that video above, it's "clean" hoarding, but that's basically what it was like in every single room and I've been trying to go over and tackle at least some of it every day, while also helping to get the old carpet replaced, the walls painted, etc. And trying to choose furniture that's not too expensive but also doesn't look like a teenager's bedroom or like it was salvaged out of a Cleanup Week pile. And trying to figure out where to store the necessary house things, like a basic tool set and cleaning supplies. But, you guys, be proud of us, I got several baskets worth of small stuff storage put away (extra lotions, extra charging cords, etc., things you keep but don't need sitting out), we got the armchair back into the guest bedroom, I put together a hamper instead of just plopping a clothes basket on the closet floor for dirty clothes, I put all my bathroom decor together in a bin for when we get the new vanity (the current one is so old that it's basically rusted over underneath), put all the after Christmas decorations we bought this year away, put some groceries away, AND I STARTED MY SECOND LOAD OF LAUNDRY TODAY. It's small stuff but it's time-consuming and I need you all to be proud of me for keeping moving on All Of This.

#lumi.txt #hoarding cw

[deliriumzer0]

Gen Loss' shooting location

I'm super into dead/dying malls so I knew what mall it was as soon as I saw the ending of Ep 2, but I didn't wanna post anything about it until after Ranboo had left NY just in case. I'm not about to facilitate any creepy behavior, you know?

So GenLoss was filmed at the now-closed Galleria at White Plains, which -- fun fact! -- is the same mall used for interior mall shots in the movie Eighth Grade (so everyone who enjoys Ranboo/Bo Burnham connections, there's a fun one!). It opened in 1980 and positioned itself as the mall for "normal" people, in contrast to the more upscale Westchester mall nearby. Sadly, that other mall is still alive & kicking, while this one was closed at the end of March 2023. There are apparently redevelopment plans in the works to turn it into mixed-use (retail + residential) space.

I was too curious about what some of the stores used in the shoot used to be, and how much of what I saw in GL was set design and how much was already in place, so I looked up old directories & photos of the mall to see if I could sleuth some of it out. In case anyone else was curious about the set designers' work, or is into retail history, I figured I would share my findings!

The central elevator area of the mall in GenLoss, and how it appeared in 2019. (Screenshot from the 2019 video linked below)

Apologies for the multiple different angles on this one, but this is all the same area, first in GenLoss (right after Ranboo starts walking away from the panel where Hetch is appearing), then from the Fleabitten Adventures 2023 video, then from the Raw & Real Retail video from 2019. (Couldn't resist screenshotting the drone ad on that last one, lol)

In the GenLoss screenshot, at the far right edge of the Sears entryway, you can see a bit of the painting left behind, so my guess is the GL set decorators got rid of that artwork for the shoot.

The screen where Ranboo first speaks to Hetch in ep 3. The empty store behind them was an American Eagle Outfitters at one point, but it was already closed by February 2023. (screeenshot from Fleabitten Adventures 2023 video)

Here's a before & after of this directory panel. (Screenshot from the Fleabitten Adventures 2023 video)

The store full of "props". In the original store photo (Google's only photo of this shop), you can see how the existing shelves were repurposed for GL. Also way at the far end of the store there's a black & white photo of someone with a basketball that was left hanging up.

I had a hard time finding a closer angle of this Victoria's Secret, but in case you were curious, here's one from the Raw & Real Retail video lol.

Where Ranboo almost left but Hetch stopped them: a Kay Jewelers.

The streamers are sitting in the following establishments: My Kitchen, Bourbon Street Cafe, Sarku Japan, Dunkin' Donuts, and of course Charley's. The last empty storefront was a Burger King before it emptied out. (Photo from Foursquare, cropped by me)

The Dental & Foot Care storefront is unchanged except for the seating out in the open area. It was a rounded wooden bench set as of Feb 2023 (screenshot from the Fleabitten Adventures video), but for GL it was the standard metal benches found throughout the mall. Not sure why.

Going far back enough, this was a Radio Shack. Couldn't find ANY photos of this particular location though, so here's the only photo I could find of what it was in the interim: a dress shop called Gloria's. (Photo from Yelp)

This one is my favorite part. :) As of February 2023 (screenshots are from the Fleabitten Adventures video), the "Heart of the Facility" is this weirdly sparse artsy furniture store called Home Splash. But before this, what the shop's facade was designed for, was...

A Charlotte Russe location. Ranboo died in a fucking Charlotte Russe. When I learned this, I could not stop laughing.

More/Sources:

https://www.reddit.com/r/deadmalls/comments/zupwhw/the_galleria_at_white_plains_ny_in_late_afternoon/

A great youtube video from Fleabitten Adventures walking through the whole mall in February 2023

Raw & Real Retail walkthrough video (from 2019)

A shorter walthrough video from HELLOTHISIS4U

Photos from FourSquare

I didn't cover everything I learned here, just the stuff I thought was coolest (and that I had images of), so please feel free to flood my ask box with questions about what certain things used to be!

#generation loss #genloss #filming locations #dead mall #abandoned mall #ranboo