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candied-cae · 1 year

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And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Please, Be Gentle with My Breaks - II

Chapter 17/? - - - Read it on AO3

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Word Count: 7,561

Summary: There's a difference between being broken and having a few breaks. But a lot of these kids and been dealt a lot of blows, and not just from physical monsters of the Upside Down. There's still a lot of stuff hidden just under the surface that they haven't been able to show just yet.

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The next morning, everyone in Hellfire had stopped by the hospital for a visit.

It was a very busy room that Thursday. And the nurses warned the whole slew of them to take it easy on him. Eddie might’ve been on the mend, but he was supposed to destress and let his body take care of itself while it began to cover over wounds with scabs to one day become scars.

That’d been an idea to wrap his head around.

Scars. Big ones.

Not just little lines of them from scrapes or spots from embers or other sorts of accidents. But real, big scars. The kind that showed a war had ravaged his body, or something like one. Which was the easiest way to imagine what he’s been through anyway. So, big scars were in store for him. Acted less like something small to point out and tell the story of; and more like a bold accessory - more similar to his own tattoos, more obvious, in that regard - but ones he couldn't really tell the truth about.

However, the gang gathering around him was a welcome distraction to the thought of his flesh trying to piece itself together and with baby fresh skin. With the wrong color and texture compared to the rest of it.

Dustin showed up with a small box of things he’d effectively stolen from the Munson trailer that morning. A couple tapes he grabbed, a player with headphones, a tattered blanket from the floor of his bedroom, a couple books, and his D&D notebook. A few general things Wayne recommended would help Eddie survive all the time spent in the sickbed until he was sent on his way home.

Lucas had wandered in with a similar assortment of wares for Max. A blanket off her own bed, studio pictures she’d taken with El, some of her comic books, and he brought in a stuffed tiger she won and gave to him last summer. She joked that it was going to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't go messing around with monsters again. Maybe it could watch out for her this time. They were all things that he knew had no real way of making her wake up sooner but even so, he secretly hoped they might help. Somehow.

Mike started making jokes about bringing over some bean bag chairs from his basement to make the hospital room more welcoming to guests. Bruce readily agreed that the stiff, small chairs provided were really no way to treat the people coming by the entertain him. Dustin pulled out a bag of chips from under the blanket and said they should all bring in snacks if they were really going to hold a one-shot there and make themselves at home. Eddie quickly made grabby hands at him and demanded to be given some first as the oldest and hurtest among them.

He also added that if they wanted to treat him, they could’ve snuck him the metal lunchbox that he usually deals out of. Let Eddie make himself a roll, or two, while he was in medical lockdown. That’d really relax him and make him feel at home more than some nicknacks or an old rag. He did pause a second to tell Erica she wasn't allowed to do any drugs until she was a grown-up, though. Before Jeff decided to be the one to tease him and ask if he really thought getting busted for smoking pot in a hospital right after he avoided a murder charge was the best idea.

They’d all started casting in suggestions for the kind of campaign they’d wanna do if Eddie was gonna write the whole thing up himself. Some wanted more puzzle aspects with things to figure out and solve. A few wanted more NPCs to interact with that weren’t just for hiring, fighting, or dying. A side comment was made about maybe not loading the battlefield so much that everyone dies as a way to close the session, they all laughed at that. Eddie swore he wouldn’t take it easy on them.

“What’s the point of fighting if you know you’ll win?” he’d asked.

“Actually getting back to the tavern to brag about it for once. Getting to say I settled down with the pretty barmaid when the adventuring day was done. Maybe.” Gareth argued back.

Josie looked at him doubtfully and asked Gareth how sure he was any character of his stood a chance with a woman, fictional or otherwise.

They all started barking laughs after that. More friendly insults flew around the room, the ones they've all already said a dozen times to each other and knew didn't hit any soft spots. Just the kind to rile them up, earn a few pointed glares and spur the next round of hits.

All the Hellfire members had a good dose of fun during their visit. But after a couple hours, Eddie started feeling pretty worn out. The guests all excused themselves and made sure everyone made it home while Eddie got started re-reading The Hobbit, since Henderson thought to include that in his care package. The familiar lines lulled him into a comfortable nap tucked in under his own blanket pretty easily. The items from home made the sterile room feel a little bit less alien. He didn't even get fifty pages into it - the company hadn't even reached the elves of Rivendell - before his eyelids were heavy. Soon he was putting the book back on the table and rolling his head away from the sunlit window to catch a few z's. But when he woke back up again, it wasn’t to an empty hospital room that felt a little too big.

Steve was back again. He’d been sitting in the chair with pursed lips. Slightly lost in thought while his fingers picked at the pages of the stack of books on the bedside table.

And he figured this was technically the third time he’s woken up with Steve Harrington by his side. Including the CPR incident, of course. As much as he was trying not to think about it. For his own sanity. Of course.

“Don’t get a paper cut,” Eddie cautioned as he pushed himself to sit up in the bed.

Steve startled slightly. Yanking back his hand with a finch, eyes snapping to Eddie before he shook his head. “No need to scare a guy…” he muttered under his breath.

“What? I was just watching out for you. Unless you were looking to steal a sleeping man’s literature, then I’d have to gut you. For the honor of my beloved books, you know.”

“Was just stopping by to pass along a message - a few of ‘em - on my way to the store.”

“Alright then, proceed.” Eddie nodded.

Steve began to count off the many points on his fingers,“ Well, firstly, Claudia wanted to ask if you had any allergies - I think she wants to bake you a fruit pie. If you had any preferences. But then Dustin said you were snoozing, so it’d probably be easier to ask your uncle. So he said you don’t really like pies, then he thought that you’d probably want new clothes until you get out of here. Since the old stuff is gross and ripped up now, and those hospital gowns really suck. But he was about to head off to work, so I said I could run some over.” Steve nudged a grocery bag by his foot at the mention,” And El wondered if you had a trick that grew your hair out long. If there was anything that worked fast. But I think Erica said her mom knew something she’d make for her, so I guess that’s taken care of. Oh! And your uncle wanted the keys to your van so he could check it over? Said you had a long drive coming up he wanted to make sure it’d handle okay.”

“Okay, wow- tell everyone to chill out about me, would ya? Alrighty, so… no major allergies, but yeah, fruit pies aren’t really my jam. But that’s usually because Wayne makes ‘em, and I think he skims when he reads dessert recipes so they all come out mushy. But Lady Henderson could probably make an apple that doesn’t rot in the Munson family refrigerator.” Eddie snickered to himself.

“I’ll pass that along.”

Eddie swung his legs over the side of the thin mattress, and dug a hand into the plastic hospital tote he’d been handed back, rooting around his belongings,“ And I’ll gladly trade you my keys for some clothes since you’re the little postal boy running my deliveries today.”

Steve passed over the bag he’d brought and pocketed the key ring while Eddie giddily broke for the bathroom. Dropping comments about wearing something that didn’t leave his ass hanging out as he slipped behind the heavy door. He was happily greeted by the sight of an Ozzy tee with bleach stains at the top of the bag. He’d nabbed it from a thrift shop in Indy a while back since he still hadn't been able to buy merchandise from a show himself. A little nod from Wayne about the tickets he and the other Corroded Coffin members had saved up for and been waiting to go to for months now. And now the affair was almost in reach, and he nearly missed it bleeding out in another world.

But instead, he tugged the shirt on along with a pair of loose pajama pants, already feeling worlds more comfortable than he had in a while. Alive and breathing. With exciting plans so close he could almost hear the buzz of the speaker system kicking on. Could almost feel his friends jostle around him while the music starts. It was the first time he’s actually gotten to put on some of his own clean clothes and think about upcoming plans in almost two weeks. And those two weeks in particular felt like years. He emerged from the bathroom feeling like both a new man and a little bit more like who he was before he traveled to another plane of existence, twice. And still, Steve was sitting in that damn chair.

“Were you waiting for the fashion show, or was there something else?” he asked.

Steve shrugged a second, like he was pretending he wasn't even sure himself,“ There mighta been another thing I was told to share when I dropped by.”

“Well?” Eddie dropped into the chair next to Steve instead of taking to his hospital bed,” Do you always like holding out to build suspense, or are you gonna share it already?”

Steve’s hand slipped into the pocket of his jacket. And then he pulled out a small golden tin. “Village Moisturizing Lip Lickers Lip Balm” it read with sweeping letters. Wild Cherry flavor.

Eddie’s mouth fell open for a second before quickly snapping shut again.

What was that supposed to mean?

And why did it look like Steve was holding it out for him?

“I’m sorry, what’s this about? This you telling me my lips are crusty after you kissed me awake like little Snow White?”

“CPR,” Steve corrected.

“Tomato-Tamato,” Eddie waved him off and placed a hand over his heart,” Point being, I don’t think an insult is a very nice present after all I’ve been through.”

Steve rolled his eyes and slid the top of the tin back. The container jutted out from under the cover like a matchstick box, and what Eddie saw inside was not some bright red lip gloss like he expected. Instead, it had been cleaned out and now held two thinly rolled joints in the case.

“Don’t judge a man for how he hides his stash when he’s so kindly sneaking you some drugs, maybe,” Steve suggested while Eddie looked down with glazed-over eyes. Almost like he was looking at a little bit of handheld heaven. “Henderson mentioned you had a certain special request.”

“I apologize- I apologize so much.” He corrected with clasped together hands,” Thank you. Thank you dearly, Steve Harrington, for this generous gift. I owe you my life for this immense kindness you found fit to bestow upon this humble man. Now, do I get them both or-”

“Don’t be greedy. I have it on good authority that this is top-shelf stuff right there. California quality. I planned to try it myself too.”

“Oh, so we’re having a smoke sesh together then? Thought you had a job to get to.”

“Eh. I don’t think any of us are betting on the reopening tomorrow being all that 'grand.' I got the keys to the place anyway. I can just stop by after-hours to finish looking over and sweeping up shop. Could hang around here for a bit. Unless you have some business you need to get to and want me to just take mine on the road.”

“Nah, nah. You’re welcome to stay. Plus I don’t think I’ve got a lighter on me so…” Eddie all but batted his eyelashes at him.

Steve couldn’t believe it,“ How does a dealer not have a lighter on him?”

He spoke sorrowfully,“ The one I had in my jeans took a dip in Lover’s Lake. She hasn’t sparked for me since.”

“Alright, alright.” Steve hummed, plucking out one of the rolls and placing it into Eddie’s eagerly awaiting fingers. In the second he spent pulling out his own, Eddie had already placed his between his lips expectantly. Brown, doe eyes wide open and stuck on Steve, waiting impatiently, almost starry with childlike glee. He looked silly to be that excited for a little pot.

“Geez,” Steve shoved on his shoulder as Eddie seemed to just keep leaning closer and closer in anticipation,” Make yourself useful and crack open the window.” He told him as Steve sat back to snake a hand into his pocket for the light.

The window only went halfway up - probably some policy or other about patient safety - but it gave them a few inches of screen they’d be able to blow the smoke out of, so it was enough to not stink up the room too badly. It didn’t take long to get themselves situated with each of their blunts burned at the ends. Steve struggled to remember the last time he’d lit up in the middle of the afternoon. It wasn’t even 3 pm yet. Most weeks around that time he's picking up Robin from the high school, and if his car even smells like cigarettes she'd pinch off her nose and groan about the stench.

Eddie, on the other hand, was no stranger to a little mid-day high.

Most days - when he wasn’t a wanted man on the run, that is - he liked to get a little baked. With or without any of his buddies, it usually slipped him into an easier state of mind. Made movie-watching, channel surfing, or songwriting just a little more entertaining. The thing was… he hadn’t really gotten any action over the last two weeks, his lungs took a bit of a beating in the last few days, and he’s just slept for the last few hours instead of responsibly sipping on the water by his bedside like was recommended. So, while he usually has no problem taking down the smokey sweetness and ignoring the irritation it brings with it, his constitution had taken to rolling with disadvantage on this particular occasion.

“Thank you, Dustin Henderson.” He spoke quietly into the embers like grace before a meal.

Then he sucked in a deep drag like he was so used to doing and immediately felt the prickle settle into his throat. His cheeks soon went red as he put all his efforts into keeping the toke down without hacking it up like an inexperienced little preteen. But in just seconds, the seal of his lips failed. In a fit of sputtering coughs, ashy breath blew away from Eddie, and those previously wonderstruck eyes were holding back tears.

And, had that been all of the event, Steve probably wouldn’t have laughed very much. Maybe a little, he was a drug dealer after all, but it wasn’t lose-your-mind funny.

The thing was, as Eddie’s body fought against the unwelcome feeling, it pulled at the still too-fresh stitches on his sides. He instantly yelped out and threw his hands down in an attempt to soothe the broken but healing skin. He barely caught the roll tightly pinched between his lips, nearly dropping it in his sudden jolt.

He looked ridiculous. Face red and scrunched up, eyes watery and mad, arms crossed and holding himself, joint precariously about to fall. Now that? That was a sight that reached “fucking hilarious” in Steve’s book. Since it was painted over someone you’d think could handle his shit better.

Steve quickly placed his own hand over his mouth, trying to hold back the laughs like how Eddie had just tried to hold back his wheezing.

“What-” he’d been interrupted by more coughs,” What the fuck are you- giggling at over there?” Eddie asked him angrily through the struggle.

And that was it.

The dam broke, and all of Steve’s laughter suddenly poured out of him. Like a tsunami rushing over a quaint coastal town, he was loud and cackling in a way that shook him so hard that he started feeling a similar strain on his own matching stitches. Eddie’s face screwed up further, and he started to kick away at Steve and his chair to separate them if he was going to be made fun of like this.

And then Steve felt the yank on his sides as he tried to bend away and out of reach. He copied Eddie’s pose to hold onto his still sore wounds.

“Don’t mock me!” Eddie yelled at him, assuming it was part of Steve’s joke.

Which was somehow only funnier.

“Stop! Stop it! The nurse is gonna kill me if I make her do these again!” Steve cried out as he pushed himself away, trying to dodge Eddie’s barrage of socked feet before someone actually caused some damage.

That made Eddie finally start to laugh in response. And before they could control themselves, they were both laughing so hard they cried. All the while wincing and swearing it wasn’t funny. Insisting that it hurt, and it was all the other’s fault, and they really needed to grow up, and have they no shame.

It took a while for the two to wind down. It was funny the way they just fell into the funnies so suddenly. Kind of felt like they’d really needed them. There was so much stress hanging around everything all the time. The opportunity to just laugh couldn’t be wasted. And they could only thank their lucky stars that all their yowling and cackling didn’t call a nurse or someone to check on them and catch them red-handed.

Eddie would eventually re-find his tolerance, so he and Steve were able to burn through their lit joints in something closer to peace. Eddie reiterated that he hasn’t had a fit like that in a long time. He could handle a bit of marijuana, but he was on his deathbed just a couple days ago. He deserved a pass.

Steve sighed. It wasn’t like he was judging him much over that part or anything. He hadn’t even smoked much himself recently. Since Robin hated cigarettes so much he just had less time to himself where he’d be able to without complaint. Plus, being alone with it isn’t the same as sharing the high with someone. And that circle he used to have that would crowd together at parties to get crossfaded didn’t exist anymore.

“So, what song did you pick?” Eddie asked as they worked through their inhales more smoothly.

Steve covered his eyes with the palms of his hands. Rubbing over his face in annoyance while a groan erupted up out of him.

“Ugh, which little asshole told you to ask me about that one, huh?”

“What? None of them? Nancy’s on my case about picking one, so I was asking around. Geez, didn’t know that was a sore subject for you, your majesty.”

Something in Steve objected to the title. But he pushed it down and moved on. Giving up the name of his worst-kept secret because even if he didn’t say it, there were about a dozen other people with the answer.

“Oh? Miss Bonnie Tyler is what does it for you?”

“What? You got a problem with her?” Steve came to her - and his own - defense.

“No. Not at all. Bonnie can rock, man. Just… not what I was expecting from all of that.” Eddie said with a motion to the man sitting across from him.

Steve challenged him,“ I thought your whole thing was about how assumptions about people are wrong? Especially in my case after your epiphany in the woods.”

“Look, I’m not a perfect person, alright.” Eddie shrugged and gave himself over to the idea,“ But sure, The Hair likes Bonnie and Footloose, noted.”

“What do you need with a list of my likes and dislikes?”

“Oh, it’s for my super evil satanic ritual. I’m gonna steal your soul and sell it to the highest bidder. It’s gonna finance my everlasting youth and ticket to fame, don’t you know?”

"Didn't realize I fetched such a high price."

"I assure you, I'll be getting top dollar. Might even hold an auction, let the demons enter a bidding war to lay claim to your fate."

“Ha ha.” Steve mocked with a flat, unimpressed tone. "Well, make it even."

"What?"

"Since you're collecting a list on me, give me the dirt on you." Steve reasoned and looked back to the table of paper he was peaking at earlier.

"What do you want to know?"

"What about this?" Steve picked off the top book from the stack," Tell me why this matters to someone."

And before Eddie could brace himself, his own copy of The Hobbit was being thrown at him. He barely caught it, not being a jock like Harrington and Sinclair.

"Have a little respect for a guy's literature!" he cried, cradling the words of Tolkien to his chest like he needed to protect them from further threat.

"Is it any good?" Steve asked. And he wasn't really being a jerk with the question. He seemed a little curious, but in the way that someone who doesn't like to read is only half-interested.

"Is it any good?" Eddie ridiculed. "Yeah, it's good. It's great. It's a staple of the genre, a legend of the bookshelves-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah- It's a classic, a must-read before you die, it'll fundamentally change you with the moral of the story. Sure, someone can say that about anything."

"Well, The Hobbit is the real deal."

"Convince me. Why do you like it?"

And Eddie was off to the races. A smile stretched across his face while he crossed his legs up in the chair. He started by commending the style of the writing. It was a simple, easy read. Something good for newbies to read and get into the fantasy world Tolkien built for the first time without getting overwhelmed. It was a prequel to the big trilogy, something to tell you where some of the pieces came from by following a smaller adventure. And the way it was written... it was written like it was meant to be read to someone. It was built for storytelling. Which Eddie loved to do.

"It's homey. And, I mean, I've buzzed through it a few times myself, and some of these lines just warm me up each and every go-through. Only part that sucks is that since it's such a foundational part of getting into fantasy, everyone I know with any sort of interest has already read it. One day, I'm gonna find someone I can read it to for the first time. Watch them discover it with my voice leading the way."

Steve shook his head. Reading was never a fun subject for him, so trying to make that some kind of expression of love just didn't seem like something anyone could really enjoy. Maybe he was a little stuck in his ways, but books were a headache. He was pretty sure about that. And, if he needed to deal with a hardcover headache, he'd rather take it from a lump on the noggin than spend hours looking over neverending lines of print.

Their Californian gifts had started working their magic though…

Purple Palm Tree Delight. What a thing it was.

He wouldn't say it was making him more agreeable to the idea of Eddie cracking open the book and lecturing at him, but he was in a better mood overall. More comfortable. Less on edge. Maybe a little too honest.

Steve was soon sat all lax in the uncomfy chair. Slumped down in it until his head could rest along the low back. He rolled that head, now feeling lighter than it had when he walked in, over to look at Eddie and snickered.

“I'll tell you a secret,” he offered, his shoulders hiking up to shrug slightly before he closed his eyes and muttered,” I already finished everything up at Family Video.”

“What?” Eddie’s head craned to the side.

“I wasn’t stopping here on my way over there. I stopped here on my way home.”

“Why’d you say otherwise then?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t wanna seem like I was betting on hanging around too long.”

“You brought a guy weed while he was stuck in his sick bed and ‘didn’t wanna seem like you bet to hang around’? What’s that about?”

“Who wants to seem desperate?” Steve posed the question at him, before dropping some of the advice he picked up from always wanted to seem like he's got everyone's approval,” If you always act like you’ve got somewhere else you can be, then it’s easy to run off when it feels like the welcome's expired. It's not as much of a rejection that way. Just you getting to your plans.”

Eddie understood it when it was spelled out for him like that. But that's never been the way that his world worked.

“Well, thank you for sticking around anyway.”

“Yeah…”

Steve seemed like his mind was going somewhere. But Eddie didn’t know how to follow it, wherever it was trekking. Steve's mind was unfamiliar territory. So he asked about his neighbor. Eddie’s eyes shifted over to where she was laid out, sharing their room, but not their conversation.

“Has Red always been as badass as she was last week?”

Steve’s whole expression softened when Eddie looked back at him. He set his hazel-y gaze onto her. Clear fondness was written on his face as he considered the question.

“Yeah. Pretty much.” Steve paused. Remembering.

“She was always kinda crazy, as much as I saw. You sorta have to be to follow a kid you just met - one who swears up and down that monsters are real - out to a junkyard past sundown where another kid is saying they’re making a trap for one at. The same night we beat back demented, freaky hound-things, she apparently drugged a real demon, took my bat, and nearly smashed his family jewels under the spikes. Told him to get lost and leave her and hers alone. And I got to get scared shitless while she slammed the gas in his car and nearly drove us all off the road.” Steve would sometimes swear he still felt dizzy from that delirious wild ride.

“Her step-brother?”

“Yeah. Him.” His voice went lower as he continued,” First day I met her and she was beating back a two-legged monster. All on her own.”

Eddie looked back at her, wondering how much more hell she's lived through than he has. And she was still kicking.

“She’ll be fine.” Eddie decided.

“She will.” Steve agreed.

Time stretched on from there in easy conversation. Before they really knew it, the hour had flown by, and the clock would soon hit four. Steve was about to be sent on his way by the seemingly incredibly punctual nursing staff. So he smacked his hands on his legs and stood up from the window seat.

The daze of Purple Palm Tree Delight was already slipping away, so he figured he’d be fine to drive without sitting in the parking lot for a sobering nap.

“I’ll head off and drop these keys with your old man.”

With a nod, Eddie stood up behind him,” Well, since you’ll be running into him later anyway, might as well drop off the rest of this mess too.”

He picked up the plastic hospital bag that was effectively dirty laundry. Messy Warzone vest, tattered Hellfire shirt, black ripped jeans, and the jewelry he’s honestly been feeling sort of naked without. With that thought, though, he figured there couldn’t possibly be any medical harm in him putting back on just his necklace and favorite ring while he waited to be released.

“Just let me grab…” he’d started while he ducked his head down and picked through the sack. But he soon fell silent as his eyes raked over the contents.

Steve gave him a second before it seemed like Eddie wasn’t just quiet out of focus. “What’s up?” he asked, watching the man fuss about his belongings with growing nerves.

Immediately, Eddie grabbed onto the bottom of the bag, turning it over and dumping the entire contents out onto the hospital bed. Dirty, bloodied clothes littered it, but he just shoved past them and touched the bits of silver shining back at him through the grime. Worst part was, it wasn’t all there.

His mother’s engagement ring was gone.

And there weren’t really words for the way that felt.

He might describe it like his stomach hollowed out, or like the ground beneath his feet vanished, or like he was instantly drenched in ice water. He might say that it felt worse than blacking out or hearing his voice crack over a microphone. Could even think about all the other things he would’ve happily given up before that ring.

But he couldn’t say any of that to Steve Harrington. Even if they just spent the better part of an hour giggling and getting pretty damn candid with one another. That ring - his mother - that just wasn't something he talked about. With anyone. Period.

So instead, he froze. His hands pressed heavily into the covers, and he started to curl his finger and dig into the clothes with the anger, and the shame, and the feeling like, suddenly, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. In just a second, he felt lost. And it was all he could to try and stave off the oncoming tears. The ones trying to boil over, and not over something as surface level as an itchy windpipe.

“Everything cool?” Steve tried again.

And Eddie snapped back up. His face no longer aimed down at the remaining objects thrown out before him. He reined himself back in enough to survive the next few minutes, his fist holding onto the chain looped through a red guitar pick. As if he could even pretend that was all he’d been looking for. He tucked the rest of it back into the bag and handed it over quickly.

“Fine.”

That was all he really trusted himself to say.

And, as if that ending didn’t just flip the last hour they spent together on its head, Steve decided it wasn’t his business. So he took the offer with an attempt at a casual smile.

“Sounds good. I’ll pass it along.”

And he was gone.

The nurse made a face at them when she got to Eddie’s door to dismiss the visitor. Even though they’d been careful to blow all the smoke out the window and dispose of the evidence, the smell of weed stuck out from the otherwise chemically clean hospital. But she let him walk anyway, so Steve went out the door and climbed back into his car.

The passenger seat of the Beemer was full of cassettes and vinyl records from the group for Mikhail to pour over when he got back. He made mental notes to call Claudia and let her know apple pie was the request while he pulled out of the parking lot. Heading toward the edge of town to make a detour so he could hand over the rest of Eddie’s belongings to his uncle.

Steve buzzed the main entrance of the power plant when he arrived. In just a minute Wayne was opening the heavy metal door and greeting him with a friendly expression behind tired eyes. And in those eyes, there was a brief flash of recognition. One not so dissimilar to the way the nurse had looked at him on his way out of Eddie’s room. With a quick quirk of his nose, Steve was pretty sure he smelled the marijuana on his clothes.

But Wayne moved past the notice without comment,” Thanks for making the run for me, son.”

“Sure. I’d say any time, but this was my last day off before Family Video will have me all but chained to the store until we get more hires.” Steve huffed and handed over the bag.

“I feel that. Things are running ‘bout the same over here.” he yawned and took Eddie's stuff,“ And how’d he seem? I won’t be able to go by myself except for a bit tomorrow morning.”

“He’s all good. Needs to make sure not to mess with his stitches too much, but good.”

Wayne smiled fondly,” Yeah, he was always one to pick at scabs when he was little, so that tracks.”

Steve weighed the thought with a light chuckle,“ I don’t know if he’s picking 'em, but he was kicking at me, so he needs to watch that he doesn’t pull them undone overexerting himself too much.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side looking at him,“ He was kicking at you?”

Steve simply answered,“ Long story.”

“Right… Well, thank you again. For the keys and whatever you did that made him worked up enough to kick at you.” Wayne studied him for a moment and added,” But you mighta deserved it, all I know. You a troublemaker?”

“All I did was laugh! I swear!” Steve insisted.

“Hmmmm… maybe so.” he didn't act as if he bought it,” Why don’t you get on home now, ‘fore someone starts to worry about you.”

“Okay. But if you need anything, let us know. We’re all watching out for each other.”

“How ‘bout I call you when we got a place to move back into - one that's not tore in half - and I’ll put you to work hauling boxes. Till then you can relax.”

There was another small chuckle to come from Steve as he was about to head off. “Yes, sir,” he told him. But he turned back around right before Wayne had shut the door to get back to work.

“Actually, I did have a question,” he added.

Wayne looked back at him and stepped out of the doorway,“ Yeah?”

“Eddie was fine while I was there, for the most of it. But, at the end, he got kinda quiet. It was after he looked through his bag and pulled out the necklace. But maybe something was missing?”

Wayne’s eyebrow drew up, and he started combing his hand through everything. It didn't take long for a look to come onto his face. A knowing kind that said he'd pinpointed exactly what it was. Still, he checked with Steve,“ You said the only thing he took out of the bag was his necklace?”

“Yeah, with the red pick.”

“Not one of his rings?”

“No,” he was sure of it,” He just left the three of them in there and handed it over.”

Wayne nodded slowly and looked past Steve. Something like regret or a kind of mourning sat in his eyes. “That explains it…”

“What?”

“He has four rings.” Wayne corrected. “These big ones, he likes them, 'course, but the other one is the important one. He lost one of these and he mighta just been annoyed, but… the other was his mom’s.”

Those last words left Wayne like he barely realized he said them out loud. Maybe he hadn't meant to. It was a wistful thing, spoken with a soft sorrow to believe the news. Mostly just to say it to himself.

But he had said it out loud and just a few feet away, so Steve heard it.

“Oh…”

Steve couldn't exactly imagine how it felt. To picture his mom's engagement ring… it wasn't something that filled him with happy feelings. It… it usually stirred something in the pit of his stomach whenever he saw the large stone glint under harsh lights. To watch it twist between her fingers any time finances became the topic of conversation. It seemed to be a nervous habit of hers that always caught his eye with a sharp gleam.

But the way Wayne spoke of Eddie's, it meant something good to him. And it was gone. After such a terrible thing, he lost something important.

“He never takes that thing off, so if it wasn’t on him when he went into the hospital and got put in this sack… then it’s lost.” he resigned himself to the fact.

“Or maybe it’s in the RV.” Steve offered, trying to find hope.

“Or deep in the woods, or out in the street, or maybe it's stolen…” Wayne argued against the optimistic approach,” There’s really no way of knowing for sure, kiddo. But that- yeah, that would sour his mood.”

Wayne sat with the knowledge a second before he looked back up at Steve and excused himself,“ Uh, thank you for mentioning it. I’ll check in with him as soon as I can. You have a good one now.”

Steve didn't really know what else to say,“ Yeah, you too. Sorry.”

“Not your fault. Things just happen sometimes. Can't do anything about it.”

And the door shut behind him while Wayne’s eyes stuck to the bag. Like, perhaps if he just looked a second longer, the ring in question would appear for him. Because thinking of going back to his boy and telling him that he was right - it was gone, and he couldn't get it back - it almost broke his heart all over again.

Before Steve went home, he stopped by the trailer park. It wasn't completely planned. He more so just found himself there to the thought of Eddie alone in that hospital room looking at his unusually bare finger. He unbuckled from his car in front of the Munson's place. Stepped up the stairs and let himself in through the unlocked door, past the police tape. He walked into the living room and looked over the carpeted floor for the shine of misplaced jewelry.

If it fell off of Eddie's finger when they flipped through the mini-gate, it would've landed there. That's what he figured.

The room around him was covered in mugs and baseball hats, most of which had been knocked off the shelves and hooks. Scattered onto the edges of the room, around the mattress and scraps of torn sheets. They'd all really made a mess of it in their rushing around. He knelt down to the ground and combed his fingers through the short shag, tugging the rope out of his way. But there was no missing ring in that trailer, in or out of hiding.

He came out of the small home and looked across the driving lane. The Jameson's RV had been returned and parked back in their lot a couple dozen yards away. He did mention that place to Wayne when he thought about where a ring could've gone. It could be in there if it was thrown off his hand sometime between the Upside Down and the emergency room. He hadn't thought to look for it when the police let them get back their stuff. Didn't know it was missing back then, of course. But now that he was on the hunt, that was the next place to check.

On his way over, he watched the gravel under his feet for if the ring was lost when Eddie was loaded up, but there was no sight of it down there either. As he turned the corner around the front of the vehicle, he saw the couple lounging in fold-out chairs. Just like they had been when the kids took their mobile home in the first place.

Okay. Steve just needed to ask them if they might've seen a ring somewhere in there since they got it back. Couldn't possibly be too awkward. Surely. They'd understand.

The pair looked up at Steve as he approached. He pulled on his nicest expression and threw up a hand in a quick greeting. They seemed to study him for a second. Not placing his face easily.

“Hi there. Uh- I'm Steve-”

But that was about all it took for their eyes to darken at him.

Mr. Jameson spoke up first,“ How dare you-”

Immediately, Steve fell into apologies,” I know, I know. I'm sorry. I really didn't plan to bother either of you at all. Especially not after… everything. Um- but I needed to ask something. Real quick. Any chance-”

“You don't need to be askin' us anything after what you and those hooligans did-”

“I know. And I agree, and I am really, really sorry. But-” There was a slight stutter to his breath as he tried again,” if there's any chance that the two of you might've seen a ring laying around. One of us just found out it's lost and-”

The fire in the woman's eyes blazed with insult,“ Are you accusing us of stealing-”

Steve tried to signal surrender. “Absolutely not, ma'am-”

But she rolled on through, pointer finger raised to keep him silent,“ If we'd seen anything in there that wasn't ours, we would've handed it over to the police to give back. I don't know what kind of people you think we are-”

“I swear I wasn't assuming-”

“But we're good people. Not the kind to steal a good, honest person's home and drive off with it without an ounce of respect. Knocking over trash, wasting their gas, making a mess of their things with no regard for the people it belongs to-”

“Again, I'm so sorry-”

She raised her voice following the interruption,“ But I cannot believe, after all we've been through since then, that you'd show back up here and try to extort us.”

Steve's eyes almost bulged out of his head at the suggestion. He frantically shook his head,“ No, no, no-”

“So now what?” her husband picked up,” You gonna call Powell with your rich kid connections, tell him you left valuables behind? See if they'll strip our RV and hand you whatever jewelry they might find in there for you to pawn off? Catch your thrills that way?”

“No! I would never. I swear. I just- I already looked around, and this was the last place I could think of where it could've fallen, so I thought I should ask-”

“I think you best get, boy. And I don't ever want to see you 'round here again, or we'll be the ones making a call to that police station.”

“I- I understand. I'm sorry to interrupt your evening. Have a good night.”

Steve scampered away from them pretty quickly. Not stopping or slowing down until he got into his car and closed the door. With his hands firmly on the wheel, he checked the mirrors to make sure there wasn't a disgruntled pair hot on his trail. Though neither of them seemed to follow him away from their property.

He let out the breath he was holding.

“Shit.”

He wasn't sure exactly why he felt so desperate to find that ring for Eddie. Surely he or his uncle would be able to look around for themselves. And, he knew that it wasn't exactly his fault. He didn't see it and kick it away without knowing what it was or anything. But if Eddie was wearing it before Steve picked him up and hiked him across the Upside Down and back to their own Hawkins… and if Steve was careless or something, let his arm flop around or whatever, and that was when it fell off… in that case, it did feel a little bit like his fault.

To think about that whole evening looking back, maybe he shouldn't have let Eddie volunteer to hang back by the trailer with Dustin as the distraction. Maybe Steve would've been faster at outrunning the bats, or maybe Eddie wouldn't have gotten strung up by vines, and maybe Vecna would already be dealt with, and Eddie wouldn't have lost his ring, and Max wouldn't be stuck in a coma, and…

The possibilities swirled around his head long after he'd driven away from the trailer park, made it back home, and excused himself for a shower. Steve's messed up a lot of stuff in his life. Maybe those past few weeks were just the latest mistake he's made so far.

#Finally - I've completed my required work as a fanfic writer under the Steddie Tag #I wrote a Steve and Eddie smoking together scene #There were a lot of small stuff in this chapter I have been wanting to get into the story forever #A ton of little seeds I've planted to revisit as the couple develops 😈#I'm also so happy I got to visit a little on the Hellfire dynamic as a whole for this chapter!#BTW - we're gonna get a little taste of them driving up to Indy for that Ozzy Osbourne concert twitter uncovered happened back then #But that's a little bit away #For the next chapter - the last 'be careful with my breaks' part - we're going to turn our eyes somewhere else #On to some other party members that have some stuff to face...#Next chapter #we're taking a closer look at Stobin and the lingering affects of surviving so many traumatic experiences.#See ya there 😘#Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Steveddie #Steve x Eddie #Nancy Wheeler #Robin Buckney #Ronance #Robin x Nancy #The Fruity Four #Stranger Things #Stranger Things 4 #Stranger Things 4 spoilers #Stranger Things 4 volume 2 spoilers

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raiiny-bay · 1 year

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i've last-minute decided i'm going to attempt nano again this year

#going in w absolutely zero planning or preparation #are any of u doing nano?#i'm actually v excited abt the story i'm gonna write #death mention #that's a warning btw #it's abt like.. coping w loss & death & grief & stuff #the protag is dead & everything we learn about him is secondhand through the perspective of others #so like his cousin. friends. exes. bf. therapist. etc #& also some of his poetry which will be scattered between chapters #i started this idea when i was like 14 & never finished it #so i'm excited to revisit it & shift it into a more mature/adult perspective #not sure i'll hit 50k words but i'll try #rainyrambles

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toadslug · 1 month

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Revisited my Queen Moorhen design!! Was feeling inspired after doing Gill (I don't think I'm gonna give every headshot design I've done a fullbody, buuuut I'm thinking about a few 👀).

I combined jewelry from her canon and popular fanon designs! Because I really like all of these looks. I don't think she's the type to wear a ton of jewelry/impractical accessories.

I've seen a lot of headcanons about MudWing sibs painting each other's wings, so I also worked that into my design! I think it would be kind of cool if MudWing sibs had some kind of emblem or family crest and maybe depicted it on their wings. I gave Moorhen roots because I thought it'd be fitting for her position as a queen (she keeps her tribe rooted... or helps them flourish... or something... idk symbolism). Will I keep this HC going in my MudWing designs? Uhhh... 🤷

With Battlewinner frozen over, I HC that Moorhen is now the largest modern Pyrrhian queen. So I made her veeeery beefy. (My queen height HCs go something like Battlewinner > Sequoia > Moorhen > Glacier > Wasp > Coral > Jewel > Ruby > Thorn > Scarlet > Snowfall > Glory btw.)

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wehavekookies · 6 days

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Kooks!

Netflix is making a show of One Hundred Years of Solitude!

I know it is one of your favorites books because one day I asked books recommendations and you said you read a couple of times.

Probably gonna read it again as well..

Yesssss, I'm both a bit scared and very excited to see it.

It has always been a book I though of as impossible to adapt to screen, however this opinion was formed in times when perhaps I knew a bit less about cinema, so I'm curious to put it to the test. The trailer looks very promising, I really like the actors they picked for Aureliano.

And yes, I'm planning to reread it as well. I was trapped in a loop (very on topic btw lol) of rereading it every year for thirteen years in my teens and early 20s, but turns out that was already two decades ago lmao, so time for a revisit.

Cheers!

#kooks talks #one hundred years of solitude #gabriel garcia marquez

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zinzinina · 2 years

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okay I'm not sure I'd you're still doing the uh. thing where you write a scene from a different pov but if you are and have time/interest, would you feel like doing poe pov with that part in directions where he asks how many other guys she's been with? I love love love that fic so much btw and I'm gonna go through your masterlist when I get off work <3

Hello! ✨ A little confession: some of these have been sitting in my inbox for months. I secretly didn't plan on fulfilling this request because it meant that I'd need to go re-read Directions, and I very rarely read my own writing again once it's been posted. But I was in the mood for something fun and easy, and then I actually had a great time revisiting this story! So thank you so so much @buckyisdisabled, @lostinwonderland314, @mandaloriandin and sweet Yearning Human anon for asking for this and for your lovely messages. I really hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it x

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: PIV, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, feelings, implied cum eating, overstimulation, masturbation, friends to lovers

This is reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Poe’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

———

Poe sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, and her taste hits his head like spice; sharp and sweet.

She pants up at him from his pillow (his pillow) her eyes wide as a nervous animal’s, her hands curled into fists. It takes everything he has not to blow his load in his pants right then and there.

He feels a little drunk. He needs to course-correct.

Drastically.

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him.

But she’s not laughing at him. The way she’s looking up at him…

This, right here, is extremely fucking serious for her.

Maybe he should’ve tried to make this nicer. Maybe he should’ve lit candles.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, he catches himself remembering a particularly fucked up day from several months back. His comms and tracking had both shorted out after a hit in the middle of an above-planet dogfight with no visual, and for about two hours, the Resistance network listed him PKIA.

When he’d eventually landed back in the hanger, it was chaotic with smoking, twisted astromech parts. Unbeknownst to him, Black One was a ghost ship.

Mechanics and pilots alike had turned and gaped in silent shock as he’d climbed out of his cockpit, and he’d only had a moment to wonder whether there was something growing out of the top of his head before he’d been knocked off his feet by a sobbing projectile stinking of sweat and smoke in an oil-stained flightsuit.

She’d only stopped crying after socking him in the chest, her voice hoarse as she told him how much of an idiot he was for not switching over to his backup signal.

He’d never wanted to see that look on her face ever again, and if he hadn’t pushed her into verbalising the source of her terror here, he’d be too turned off to go any further. He doesn’t go in for that shit; he wants his partners relaxed and comfortable and enthusiastically willing.

But it’s knowing what she’s actually worrying about—stuck in her head as always, thinking about everyone else; what he thinks of her, rather than focusing on how she feels—that makes him determined to stick with her, as long as she says.

He’s staggered by the amount of trust she’s putting in him. Shit, he doesn’t know whether it makes his heart ache more, or his dick. Like she has anything to be nervous about. Like she isn’t the prettiest fucking girl he knows. Like making her smile isn’t the single greatest source of pride he gets to hold over himself.

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried.

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he says softly, and he can see how little she believes him. “Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he continues, before she can say anything to piss him off. He can handle her putting shit on him. He isn’t letting her do it to herself. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding, her eyes still huge. A sudden throb of affection makes his head feel like it’s filled with tibanna gas.

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he tells her, grasping each of her ankles to do exactly this.

She lifts her ass toward him as he wriggles her underwear and pants over her legs, giving him a brief glimpse of the most beautiful view he’s ever seen in his life.

His brain’s still catching up when he sees the furtive way her eyes keep flicking down toward where it feels like his dick’s trying to bust through his fly.

“Don’t you want…?”

“It’s not about me,” he cuts her off. And if you touch me right now I won’t make it, and I’ll ruin my reputation, and kill any chance of living any of this shit down with you ever again, he decides not to add.

He bends, spreading her legs with both hands. Her clit’s so swollen her labia are parted around it, the soft skin inside her thighs smeared with her first orgasm.

Her first orgasm—the first one another person’s given her, anyway—and it’s his.

And, oh, it had been so easy.

His ego is not immune to this.

But, nice as it is, it doesn’t quite feel like a boost in the traditional sense. It feels something more like a twinge, hard and new, right under his ribcage. Like vindication, maybe, or—and he feels like a fucking moron for even thinking it—fate.

He bows from the waist and nudges into her with his nose, his tongue laving a stripe up the entire length of her pussy.

Her skin tastes like soap. Somewhere in the dimmest corners of his head he’s annoyed at this; imagines her scouring every inch of herself raw in the showers before coming to him, filled with nerves and doubt under the spray. He presses the muscle of his tongue into her opening in search of more of the her he’d found on his fingers.

The sound she makes zips lightning-hot straight to his guts.

His eyes roll briefly closed, and he sinks down onto his elbows, the twisted line of the sheets digging into his skin under his weight.

She shifts her thighs together, her fingers twitching at her side. He steals a glance up and finds her watching him, her lips parted, her eyes too-bright.

“Open your legs,” he encourages, his lips barely lifting from her skin. She sinks her teeth into her lip as she lets her knees fall flat to the bed.

She’s spread out open in front of him, and he dips his head to continue.

She flinches and tenses and exhales in turn, reacting to every touch of his mouth as though speaking aloud. It makes him feel violently impatient, and so he moves slower, trying to temper himself.

He wants to be inside her.

He wants to swallow her, and to be swallowed by her. Fuck, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He’s pretty sure he’s leaking precum into his pants; all the blood having long vacated his brain to swell bruise-achingly hard in his cock. He tries to stay focused, but the reality is that Poe’s thoughts ran away from him the second she set foot in his room. The challenge now is to just try not to do something stupid.

Something stupider than fucking his best friend.

She hisses, tossing her head back, her legs twitching so hard his tongue nearly loses its place against the hot nub of her clit.

He slides both hands beneath her thighs to lift her hips to his face in an attempt to keep her still, barely managing to tamp down the urge to rut helplessly against the mattress in search of relief.

The smell of her, the taste, fills his senses. But it’s still not enough. He wants to bring her to insensibility; to work that softness into the bed, glutting himself until her whimpers turn to those of overstimulation.

He’d never really considered himself a possessive person, but as she quietly sucks in a sharp, shallow breath, he realises he wants that sound all to himself.

He pulls it out of her with his tongue again, and again, his attention unwavering.

He wants her thinking of this, of him, from now on. Every single time she comes, alone or otherwise. He wants her to dream about him inside her; tongue, fingers, cock, he doesn’t give a fuck. At briefings. At meals. Waiting around bored for launch clearance in her fighter, standing alone in the showers, when someone else presses their hands to her skin, and lifts her chin to meet her lips (and fuck, that hurts to think about, like hitting realspace at-speed, hard enough to grind his bones together).

She comes with a pained-sounding cry, her pubic bone bumping into his nose and pushing his face away. He drags himself up and finds her reaching her hands out as though to stop him.

“You okay?” he manages.

“Poe, I want…please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Her eyes stay on his and she blinks slowly at him, as though trying to remember who he is. His heart thunks hollowly in his chest, and he waits.

“Fuck me.”

He pauses. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. His already-painful cock jumps in his pants at the demand. “You need a break first?”

She answers by trying to drag him down toward her, her hips lifting to press against him, ankles hooked around the backs of his legs.

He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He shifts his weight, kicking his pants down, settling himself between her legs.

She ducks her chin and kisses his shoulder.

His head swims. He barely feels the touch of her lips through the material of his shirt, but it hardly matters. The gesture is so small, so careful, so quick, as though she couldn’t help herself.

As though it’s something she’s thought of before.

Which is when it hits him: the one thing he’s never seriously let himself entertain. Does he…actually have a chance?

Without undue vanity, Poe knows that his looks are the one area, at least, that he can afford not to worry about. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how people respond when he flashes his teeth at them, or holds their eyes with his own for a protracted moment from beneath a quirked eyebrow.

But never her. She’s somehow always been frustratingly, crushingly immune to every single weapon in his arsenal. It had been a source of ire in the early days, while he was still learning the colour of her voice, and the shape of her mind.

The sadder, slower ache of acceptance had come later; gathering like thunderheads, lingering long.

She wasn’t for him. She didn’t want to be. Letting himself pretend otherwise would have only ever been an exercise in masochism.

Despite all of this, Poe’s still human. And, as he had come to realise, knowing something intellectually is very different to knowing it physically.

Whenever she smiles at him, and bumps into him, and rolls her eyes at him. Whenever he’s inside somebody else, tasting the sweat on their skin, or stretched out around their pleasure. Whenever he jerks his cock alone in his bunk late at night, ashamed and furious at himself for such a disgraceful breach of their friendship, for the things he’s imagined.

Everything he’s ever done with anybody else; every filthy, beautiful fucking thing, he’d turn himself inside out and crawl over hot coals to do again with her, to her, for her, if she wanted.

And now, here she is.

He might not ever get another shot at this.

He needs to make it count.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?” he says, his voice coming out rough. She looks mortified, but he doesn’t care. “How many?”

“S-six,” she says.

He nods. He’d already known about Kip and Terrett, and he’d had his suspicions about Rau and Valen. He’s a little disappointed at the knowledge that Rau had let her down with all the others; he wouldn’t have expected it.

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, distractedly.

He presses forward, and the first millimetre he sinks inside her already has him panicking.

She immediately feels far too hot and close, but the hardest part, the part threatening to undo everything, is the way she’s looking up at him, as though silently pleading with him, and Gods, how she doesn’t need to.

“Oh, sh...shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.” He’s aware he’s making no sense, but that’s the only thing left in his head, probably the only thing he’ll ever know again: good, good, good.

Her fingers are clenched tight around his forearm, and he thinks she might be holding her breath, but then she lets it go, and the wet bloom of her cunt swallows him fractionally deeper.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he groans, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels, his guts on fire with need.

She squirms under him, and fuck, she feels incredible. After coming twice he can feel the evidence of how wet she is, the smooth glide of her body gripping close around him, giving way slowly.

It’s suddenly too fucking hot in his room. He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck and around his ears, and it’s vaguely annoying, but he couldn’t give a shit.

Her warm breath meets his chin, and he follows the line of her attention down the length of his own body, to the place where his hips are flush against hers. Between her parted legs he can see his cock half-sunk inside her, and his face presses to her damp, salty skin as he murmurs to her, pressing forward, enveloped entirely by her.

He has no idea what he’s saying. It just feels important for her to know.

Whatever it is, he never gets the chance to find out.

Because then she’s kissing him, and her mouth is on his and her lips are parting and they’re soft and her teeth are catching at the dry ege of his lower lip and her breath is hot and it’s hers and it’s in his mouth and it’s in his lungs and it’s oxygenating his fucking blood and pumping through his heart and his brain and searing through every single part of him until she’s all that’s left.

He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

“Holy fuck,” he thinks he’s trying to say, and he feels her smiling, gently biting into his lip, keeping him quiet.

She rolls her hips up against his, pushing herself off the bed. He can feel himself rapidly losing control as she throws her head back, her brows drawn, teeth cutting into her own lip.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” he pants.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, and of course she doesn’t listen; she never fucking listens to him, rocking up toward him, making him see stars.

“Just…fuck, hang on.” Cold showers, he thinks, grimly. Freezing cold showers, and depressurised-cockpit earaches. Nine hour-long diplomatic debriefs. The rancid-smelling mucus trail Klaud leaves behind everywhere he goes.

“Is this…not good?” she says, low and weak. “Poe?”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as she whispers his name, and the sound jolts through him—her voice, the one he knows so well—like this, with him.

Whatever pitiful electricity’s still left in the meat of his brain fizzles out. “Oh shit, say my name again,” he begs, not even waiting for her to do so.

He’s already moving, needing to feel the walls of her cunt stroking and sucking at his cock. “D’you know how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna…”

He shouldn’t be saying this. He’s gotta be real fucking careful, if he doesn’t want to accidentally tell her every shameful daydream he’s ever had about her and disintegrate what’s left of their friendship into dust.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he tells her instead. “Your pussy is perfect.”

She recoils, and it’s equal parts adorable and infuriating that even now she’d be embarrassed to hear him say this.

He almost laughs. “Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re sweet, so sweet and tight and—” and fuck, he can still taste her on his lips, and he watches her carefully, finding the place that makes her fall boneless and focusing there, right there, until the viselike grip on his arms weakens and she’s coming again.

Her voice breaks, but he doesn’t slow. She can take it.

He pushes her hips down, fucking her into the mattress, skin clapping on skin. She’s yanking at his hair hard enough to hurt, but he relishes the pain because it keeps his vision clear; exactly where he wants to be.

Her orgasm tumbles into another, and he seizes her knees, lifting her toward him as he picks up his pace. She moans, belatedly trying to cover the sound with her hand, and it’s the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He is never, ever going to be able to get that sound out of his head again.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that,” he says, leaning closer, dragging her hand away. “Don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you.” She presses her lips together, and he huffs, driving himself into her just a little harder than strictly necessary.

He’s rewarded with a weak, throaty whimper, and he grins at her. “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he confesses.

Her nipples stand through the thin, sweat-sheer fabric of her tank top, her softness rippling upwards with every stroke. He watches her body greedily, wanting more, wanting everything all at once.

He wants, very badly, to lick her again, all the way from her neck to her sweet, trembling cunt. He can still taste her on his tongue as he presses his fingers down to her clit, just above the place where he’s still pumping in and out of her.

She cries out, coming again until she’s melting wet into the bed.

He still doesn’t slow, but his thoughts have run away from him and all of a sudden he realises it’s too late, far too late to stop himself.

He wants her full of his cum, until he’s emptied out all of the ache of himself into her, and her pretty, swollen cunt’s overfull with him until he dribbles out from between her lips and onto his fingers, making a mess of the sheets so he can start all over again.

Right at the precipice of his climax, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. There are tears of overstimulation clinging to her eyelashes, and her fingers are clutching gently at the back of his shirt.

Nobody has ever laid me down as low as you, he thinks, surprised at the strength of his emotion, willing her to understand.

But then he’s coming so hard his limbs go numb, and he isn’t thinking anything anymore.

He presses himself deep, deep inside, shaking violently as she swallows every pulse of his orgasm. His heart is thunderous in his ears, his muscles liquefied. He slumps, panting.

If she objects to the deadweight of his body over hers, she doesn’t say anything. He stays there, smothering her, trying to regain his breath, until he can feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath him.

“Was that…okay?” she says, ridiculously, like his soul didn’t just leave his body.

He doesn’t even bother responding to the question. “You’re crazy,” he muses instead. “She’s crazy.”

He’s lifting himself off her when his chain swings from the neck of his shirt, clocking her between the eyes. “Oh, shit,” he says, as she gasps in pain. “Sorry, baby.” He presses his fingers to the spot, feeling guilty. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn't feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

She’s scowling at him, her nose wrinkled up like a Weequay’s, and it’s so fucking cute he wants to kiss her again. “Why didn’t you?” she says.

She needs to ask? “Because it’s you.”

As he crawls back down between her legs, he finds a spectacular mess of cum and sweat and the evidence of her orgasms on the sheets, and fuck, it’s soaking down here. He wonders whether she even realises what she’s done.

He’s disappointed he didn’t get to watch. He’s sure he can get her to do it again, though.

She blinks down at him, her eyes glassy. “What are you doing?”

His mouth waters watching the way her wet skin shines and he feels an answering twitch in his recently-softened cock. “Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Her eyes widen, but whatever she does next, he misses it.

He’s preoccupied.

Just tagging a couple of the lovely people who commented on the original and might be interested in this, absolutely no pressure of course! x

@saradika @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @bacarasbabe @writeforfandoms @hardc0rehaylz @moonlight-prose @lcvenderblues @onfiretakemehigher @littlemousedroid @viceofdionysus @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @ifimayhaveaword @millllenniawrites @liamakorn @lilhawkeye3 @grumpymuffinmama @dailyreverie @mandelirious

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #from a certain point of view ask game #poe dameron smut #star wars smut #poe dameron fanfic #star wars fanfic

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annymation · 3 months

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It's been awhile since I've done an ask in tumbler but it's time for me to slowly get out from my shy box. Anyways, these are questions for Aster:

1. How easy is it to earn his trust?

2. How easy is it to earn his mistrust?

3. Would he prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

4. What memory does he revisit often?

5. How easy is it for him to ignore flaws in other people?

6. How sensitive is he to his own flaws?

7. How hard is it for him to shake a sense of guilt?

I hope these aren't too much to ask, i'm really really curious about Aster as a character 😅

1. That’s a tricky question because it really depends on the person he’s interacting with, since he can see people’s star’s, that is, their deepest desires and essentially their soul. So for example, he took one look at Magnifico’s star, that was actually a black hole, and now he doesn’t trust Magnifico’s at all, sure he might get tricked by the guy but he would never trust him. However, even people with good in their heart can do bad things, but Aster kinda blindly trusts people that have bright stars. So I’d say: if you’re anyone other than King Magnifico and Queen Amable, then yes it’s very easy to earn his trust.

2. Okay, let’s say you’re someone with a good heart and you did something bad to Aster… They’ll most likely still trust you later if you apologize. Aster sees the best in people and believes everyone can do better, so I’d say you’d have to screw up REEEEEAALLY badly to earn his mistrust, it’s very difficult.

3. Hmm that’s interesting 🤔 I’d say he’d prefer an unpleasant truth, although he omitted the truth about him knowing Asha her whole life for most of the story, Aster hates lies, that’s actually something I was gonna implement in the story as “A star thing” like, Aster would mention all stars hate lying, as a reference to how the Blue Fairy made Pinocchio’s nose grow every time he lied. And that’s also why he hates the king and queen so much, they always lie. Also, no matter how unpleasant a truth may be, he’d probably find the bright side in it.

4. His memories are mostly from watching people bellow, and mostly watching Asha. I’d say his favorite memory is seeing Asha reading story books with her grandfather, she did it often, but he loved listening to the fairytales.

5. Really easy.

6. I’d say he’s sensitive about them, but not too much, as in, they manage to work through them, but when the insecurities hit they REALLY HIT.

7. Aster hasn’t shown it that much but he still feels guilty about how that plan he had about singing at the plaza (chapter 9, which btw you guys should revisit, I updated the song they play, now there’s ACTUALLY a song and not just me describing it) so yeah he feels guilty that the plan kinda backfired, and he also feels guilty for not realizing Asha got captured right behind his back, those guilts are still in him, but he doesn’t let it show since he internalizes it all a lot, I was gonna make him show that guilt more in chapter 12 but then I realized that was too much of a downer and would make it feel like Aster was making himself more of the victim than Asha, when they both equally went through a lot. So I decided to keep those feelings of guilt more subtle and implicit.

#wish rewrite #wish reimagined #kingdom of wishes #wish star boy

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artinandwritin · 29 days

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I dont think i ever mentioned it but ever since i started applying to art colleges I've been keeping up an art wall and since i just added some new illustrations to it, i thought it would be fun to explain some things on my wall and revisit some of my old favourites!

Going from left to right, we start with some more recent illustrations (featuring, ofc, gussiri, Niv, and a recent illustration of Cato from @otwdfanfic 's fic that i liked sm i just had to print and put up somewhere). Next to Cato, I put a gift i got from my dear friend @lt-catbolt of our bois Niv and Melatron and i cant remember if this was for my birthday or for fun, all i know is that i nearly cried when she gave it to me (go follow her now btw she's awesome and shes gonna become one of the most expressive storytellers of our generation i just know it)

Underneath Cato and Niv/Mel, we've got a huge pencil drawing I did 2 years ago to get accepted into an art college. It took me so. So long. I even begged my teachers from high school to let me follow classes online so i could continue working (they said yes lmao) and my mom even had to help. Worse, it wasnt the only assignment that particular art school had given me, no, they had given me a total of 6 assignments I had to complete. They all took a lot of time and didnt all turn out great haha. I didnt get accepted into that school (it was a fine arts study so im pretty sure i wouldnt have been happy there anyways) but that just makes me all the more happy i did get accepted into the one im currently attending

Anyway ive been too lazy to take it down so now itll be there until i find the willpower to take it down

The butterfly above it is a painting i did towards autumn of 2021 for my portfolio. I'm not the best painter (decent enough but its just not for me) but im still really happy with how this turned out. It was pretty fun!

Underneath that is an inkt print made from a stencil once again featuring Cato (i have. No idea why hes on my wall twice lmao i guess hes just a great muse). People who have been with me for long enough probably still remember this cuz i was superproud of how it turned out and plastered it all over my account (and my house. My mom wanted a copy as well)

Underneath the inkt print is a poster i got while visiting the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe stage play when I was in London in autumn of 2022 (take me back London take me back take me back). The play was absolutely stunning and the way everything was staged left me (as a life long narnia enthusiast) ecstatic and super excited. One of the best plays ive ever seen even if i had one of the worst seats in the theatre <3

Next to the poster is another little gussiri drawing i printed lmao. The little goobers show up so much

Above the poster is more of gussiri!! And above that is another painting i made, this time of some mushrooms. I made this during a party i threw for my 18th birthday, we all did some painting together and i remember my lovely lovely friend @allilcat painting with watercolours so well. That memory is just etched into my brain <333

Above that is a painting i made of the night sky! I used it for my portfolio and it was really cool to paint since i, not knowing basic painting techniques, could only really throw my own imagination into it which gave a really cool result. Still really love it!

Lastly, we've got a Siri illustration made by a classmate of mine for a secret santa we did last christmas! I was so happy with it and ofc it deserved a really good spot on my wall <333

Thats been a bit about my wall, if youve made it this far thanks for listening to me rambling <333

#artinandwritin's art

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btr-rewatch · 6 months

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Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 1: "Big Time Audition" PART 1

Well, here we go! I'm super excited to be revisiting this show after so many years. I was so deep in the fandom back when the show was on, but it feels like going into it with a blank slate at this point. I have no idea what the fandom is like anymore and also forgot so many of the episodes. Ugh, I wish I could remember what my BTR blog from like 2011 used to be called (and if it even still exists; I might have deleted it). It'd be so cool to take a look at it.

I'm gonna try to just jump right in here. A few things first: I'll be pausing the episodes perodically as I watch in order to write up my posts on here, so it'll be a very "real-time" depiction of my experience, lol. Posts will also always be put under a "read more" on account of length.

Y'all the smile on my face at just the beginning few seconds of the episode. It brings me right back to 2009, watching the premiere with my sister. And I love how there's really no time wasted in making it loud and clear what each of the boys' roles are in the group and what their personalities are like.

Kendall's first line is literally a little motivational pep talk. He's trying to motivate them to do something that's going to get them into trouble, but still...it's in character. (btw, I will absolutely be focusing in on Kendall's character development—and my criticisms of it—as I move through the series)

Anyway, continuing on down the line: Logan counters Kendall's words with math, thus promptly labeling him as The Nerd of the group. Carlos jumps at the chance to cause some chaos (very Carlos. he was my favorite, btw) and James is just not paying attention to any of it. He's just standing there preening.

James is another one who changes a good deal from this first episode, I think. I mean, if I'm remembering correctly, he stays sort of self-absorbed and concerned with his looks, but not quite to THIS degree.

Also, the guys all work well together and fit, but I can't help but wonder how this group came together. It's such an oddball mixture of extreme personalities that you'd be hard-pressed to find in real life. In fact, if it were real life, they probably wouldn't be able to tolerate each other at all, let alone be friends. But that's the beauty of the show.

They do all eventually help Carlos turn the sprinklers on.

Troublemakers. Oh! And I spy plaid on Kendall. He wears plaid in like every episode, doesn't he? I remember that being a thing.

Logan's hair looks very dark. Was it dyed for this episode? I don't remember it being that dark.

I'm only ONE MINUTE into this episode. Yikes; these are going to be long posts, aren't they?

Yes, Carlos gives James the helmet right before they get pummeled by the mob of angry girls! Kendall knows James has to protect his face! Just a little over a minute in, and we have a leader of the group firmly established.

GUSTAVO AND KELLY!!!

I love him.

Meanwhile, the guys are nursing their injuries back at Kendall's house. It's so funny to me the way that Kendall seems to have the rest of them (mainly Carlos?) "trained" in a way? He tells Carlos to give James the helmet, and Carlos does do without hesitation. Then, when James starts dancing on the couch, all he has to do is say Carlos's name, and Carlos tackles James to the floor.

But when you've got a group of buddies like that, someone has to step up and take the reins, and that someone is Kendall Knight.

Look at these goofballs smiling as Carlos and James beat each other up.

The FLIP PHONES

Amazing. This show already kind of feels like a fun little time capsule.

I'd be remiss to not talk about this specific moment (when James and Carlos are throwing hands again) that I recall the fandom latching onto back in the day. As things start spiraling and glass starts flying, Logan simply calls Kendall's name, and Kendall immediately runs to Logan's side.

This is the point in which I probably start overanalyzing, but. Well, that's half the fun of this project, isn't it?

It speaks volumes about who Kendall is, what his role is in the group, and how the other three (especially Logan) look at him. Things are getting out of hand, and Logan is overwhelmed. So what does he do? Simply call for Kendall to take control and fix it. Because that's who Kendall is, right? He's Mr. Hold Everyone Together, Fix Everything All the Time, Carry the World on His Shoulders Guy.

I'll be delving more in that in future posts, I'm sure. Many thoughts.

Also, can we talk about how James and Carlos are just. Destroying Mrs. Knight's home?? Throwing things and about to hit each other with a lamp and a...whisk?? Is that what Carlos has? As a kid, I was like, "ahahaha, funny," but now I'm like, "I hope Mama Knight made those boys pay for every item they ever broke while in her house."

I was originally going to break this up into just 2 parts, but it's already pretty long, and I don't even know if anyone will read it, so I'm going to wrap it up right here for now. I'm sure once I get into the actual series, the posts will be shorter, but there's a lot of ground being laid in this episode, and I'm also still finding my footing on this blog.

Thanks to anyone who checks this out!

#big time rush #btr #btr rewatch #btr season 1 #kendall knight #james diamond #logan mitchell #carlos garcia

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chokchokk · 8 months

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I see you interact with a lot of people and was curious if you would assign your moots on who would be "your ateez eight is one team"? Or who would be who for you personality wise based off ateez members xx

ATE MAKES ONE TEAM, HELLO EVERYONE WE'RE EIGHTEEZ !

except choosing only eight for eight is really difficult i'll be fr. like i have collected so many bbies and babies assigning only one for each is gonna be so difficult like who the fawk am i to leave anyone of yall out.... anyway i'll try to choose those who i interact the most on tumblr but also in private because yall have my heart and i want to give yall pieces of it you know !!!! (it's gonna be burning aflame so if it's too hot then let it fall. it's ok.)

i'll base it off my mootie's personality and assign them their position using some info from this & this i guess~ and i'll just quickly assign myself and say... performance-wise i wanna be san. who doesn't want to idols slutting it out every second in their fancam? pls close your eyes then because you won't like me as an idol. i want to put edit-tiktok in a chokehold. personality-wise yeesh i dunno i don't think they would take me for this alone...... lol anyway did i write like WAAAAAY too much? no. could've written more. so much more. LOL i hope yall care for it~ xoxo

upcoming ... EIGHTEEZ MEMBERS!

HYUNG-LINE/CAPTAIN. [ helping hand ; guide ; respected ]

MICHI BBY, @cybrsan this wasn't a choice i had to think about longer than a second michi !!! i should honestly thank you every day for having been the helping hand that i needed to make that leap from tumblr newbie to turning into an even more unhinged hivemind of #horndogism by introducing me to the cromernet!!!! like you have a calm personality that could start a storm... (and this isn't me wanting to see waterbender!wooyoung lol) and as it goes for the position, i do see you taking in a generally nurturing and guiding role!! just helping out wherever you can fr and still maintaining your smile and warmness when your life is filled with other duties?? michi mother.

KALEM MAMA, @svintsandghosts would you give yourself the position of a leader?? uhhhh... i think you probably wouldn't lol. but i know you and i have seen you, and it has (and will hopefully!) always work out with you sat at the steering wheel soooo here you go babes. you have determination, responsibility and the lightheartedness that would make for a very dynamic group dynamic while still getting shit done FUCK YEAH!!!!!! (i also see you as the oldest member getting confused with the young sometimes lol)

BAI-BAI, @hwaightme i still revisit some of our conversations just to ground myself, btw. like those words coming out of you so naturally is so so awe-inspiring and i find myself feeling great comfort in the love you have for the world, people and those two combined into art. it's... yeah, it's amazing!!! i see you being the philosopher that plato wanted in his ideal nation, a philosopher who is so talented in thinking, creating and reflecting and- that's just you for me, bai. i can't say anything more or less than that;;

SKY BABES, @pocketjoong there is a big lack of interaction here for me to put you here i KNOW but anytime i read your messages in the cromernet dc it's like yes... that is our sky!!! that is our cromother!!!!! (portmanteau of cromernet and mother, yes) so so careful, so gentle, so compassionate with everyone!!!!!!! your sense for responsibility and the sensibility you have is like???? you are such a warm hug of a person and i hope you feel the same warmth back!!

DEMON LINE. [ captivating ; dual ; feral but tamable lol ]

LOVELYSSIE (ALYSSA), @kitten4sannie first of all, my alysstar~~ hope you like being called tamable~^^ LMAO okay getting that out of our way, uhhhhh would i give you san? after all the things we said about him...... maybe....? whwhwgwg but not for the reasons that won't keep us awake for 12 hours~ sooo i'm going to give you demon line because oohhh hobblebun, when you get immersed into the #wordcraft, it's like... you're in it. and that's for me what the demon line is all about!!! friendly, super super approachable, lovable even, and then it's like BAM. the guttiest, tingle-evoking, body-throbbing paragraph i've ever read in my entire life help. innocent filth? oh yeah your work is definitely not innocent just like san is not innocently humping the air and slapping ghost ass but once you're off the stage you're both little spoon and just in need of some good ol' praise hehe. come here you!!!!!!

ANNE PFANNE, @ssaboala surprised to see yourself here? hmmm maybe. i hope you are lol. soooo what i think is so interesting about your personality is like. how "loud" (as in rich (as in charakterstark)) it is but when it's like? comfortably loud. laid-back, but can still get feisty on you typa thing, tbh. like you know you're talking to ms. choi-pfanne when you text her or are texted by her lmao??? i think the same thing goes to show in your work tho!!! filled with so much personality, it's so fun to read, and of course your irl personality is the same, but with more authority (because of the amounts of times you told me to start writing hop hop lmao) anyway yeah you're here, in the demon line, whether you like it or not xoxo

CHUPS (CHIP), @jaehunnyy could've just given you maknae line but i think you got two sides to you that even though i've reached a very stable, constant state of sweetness i think there's something a bit feral in you. lol i mean this in the best way possible tho, of course. like you are my little baby, you fr awake some of my motherly instincts who just... so happens to want to bite her kid's ass when she's roguing out!!!! anyway yes my darling, you can be so feral and i adore you for it, i wouldn't trade it for anything else!! and also you'd rock the shit out of demon line as a dancer i think. lol

ZERDA HERZBLATT, @a1sh1teruu yeah i think i'm just putting the german-speaking ones in the demon-line, screw me for it. LMAO. but yeaah i think you got a duality that comes from... rather your thoughts? ideas? at least i was rather positively surprised to be explained all the things about your mingi-series and HEY it was amazing so keep on going with that you know!!! your personality is energetic and i love how you talk with anne and me LMAO!!!!!!!!

MAKNAE-LINE. [ clever ; playful ; deft ]

RIRI(ELLE), @dairyminki didn't wanna give you the honour of demon-line. no jk i actually don't think you are in the demon line because you're... not that feral. like OKAY you are feral with me but like. that's my responsibility. i think you are a sweetheart through and through!!! with just... a bit of slyness that you can't shake off. like we went from little sister-big sister to the #hornet, okay? like we're on the same page. LMAO okay what i mean by that is just the fun i have to talk with you, like you are such a joy to engage and chat with you<33 like helping you out on your work is so so enjoyable, pls never think that i could ever be bored of that it's just time that i don't have but WANT to have, fr. like if i could i'd spend all of my days reading your work with you xx

BABY NORA, @cheollipop i realize i have no better nickname (punch me in the guts for this) so i'll just use this one. forgive. uhh. is this me saying you have younger sibling energy through and through? yeah. that's exactly what i'm doing. like i could have given you demon-line for having those two distinct moods from time to time, buuuut i think for you, it's almost natural to be that way? like the "cheeriness" is still a part of you even tho you may claim it not to be. just my observation here tho. in general i just think that your personality is stable even if you think it's not and it's just cuteness all around, even in the playfulness lol xx

VENDETTARLING, @vforvendetta-dupe did i ever call you darling? i don't think so. but you are a darling, i hope you know that ^^. sooo, yeah, you give me younger sibling and the ones that need all the love at that!!!! and tbh i'm not complaining. i like the random conversation-starters as much as i love the conversations that follow right after and ahhh babes you are just a joy fr. thank you for providing me with dog-pics and your cuteness all around the clock !!! xx

BEE(BEE), @hanniebeesworld i think you were one of the first people to have sent me a dm and i'm so glad you were, beebee like whwgwhw you are so so so adorable i really needed your sweetness (pun intended) when first starting all of this;;;;!!!! i don't know where you have been~ hopefully enjoying your school~ your life~ but i really really adore you so much wow!!! hope you're always eating the sweetest of sweets and collect the most delicious memories in life, beebee!!!!!!!!!!

VISUAL-LINE. [ aesthetic ; composed ; harmonious ]

LILO BUN, @seonghwaddict did i make this category just 4 you? ppffftt, i won't tell....... (i did.) i know we haven't chatted in-depth a lot which we should def change (that's a threat) but i still wanted to tell you that i appreciate your personality and adore the way you articulate yourself (in your work specifically!!!) it's so precise, and i think this also goes for you off-tumblr<33 i think there's a lot of playfulness like LMAO don't get me wrong i don't think you're this cold, composed person, like not at all actually lol, just that you have something very loose and comforting about you!!! hope that's understandable lol what i mean is that your company is nice lilo xx

KO-ALA (KALA), @jeonride omg not me being so lost and not adding you immediately because i am texting you rn help you're here because your blog is so so pretty and i can just see you have an eye for detail and just so so lovely!!!?? like your energy is so pretty too? you have something very affectionate about you and it makes you very likeable <33 so much fun to talk with you!!!! i appreciate you a lot and HELLO the fanfic???? i will forever cherish it. making americanos and always thinking of hubby. thank you so much <33

#i loved making this a bit too much #i am so sorry if i missed anyone;;;#like i fr could have written so much more but like #let's not be #TOO cheesy you know #LMAO #well hope you got insight on my mooties anon<33 #촉촉 #chokki

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flatfuckfridays · 3 months

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..how did you get vark, btw? was he a gift? were you looking for a 'dog' for a while? or did you pull a 'I'm just gonna look- that's all' at a animal place lol

[He-… he was a gift. And the story is rather a lot, one day I may type it out in full but I’m not ready to revisit those memories yet. That may or may not be why this took so long to answer, apologies.]

#ooc// couldn’t find any canon(?) info on how Vox got Vark soooo time for improv’d angsty lore💞💞💞#flat fuck voxday #hazbin hotel rp blog #a/v² #ask the tv bitch #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #rp blog

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miamordanipedrosa · 10 months

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DANORGE

this is from the ship ask game but I decided to make this it's own post bc danorge is special okay? okay.

first of all, an ideal daniel ship for me is always him being a perfect babygirl and being treated accordingly. just like I would. he's my country wife, my baby boy, my hot piece of ass and he needs to know is. now, george is the perfect man for this.

the dynamic

I'm gonna be honest, this ship sort of snuck up on me, I didn't expect it to take off quite as much? like, I know Daniel likes the young guys, bc he likes fucking around and fucking with them bc they think he's fun and look up to him you know? he likes the peer pressure. and george didn't seem the kind of guy to be that subjectible to this bc he's always been very focused, correct, driven, etc. although as I got to know him a bit better I realised he does like some shenanigans (eurotruck with charles you will always be famous.).

anyway, I think one of the reasons why their friendship grew so well is that george is so incredibly earnest in his admiration of the people around him, and fiercely loyal. I think george would never be that guy who has to act cool around his friends. he's the type of guy to hype his friends up to others, and that's what he does with Daniel. like that post that goes sth like hyping my boyfriend up before he enters a room like you better clap for my specialest little boy. that's literally george with daniel. that's his babygirl, his country wife.

now, I think that perhaps daniel liked the way george engaged with his banter from early on, like when he asked for his merch, I mean that was still fanboy ish behaviour, but more recently, when Dan struggled, he was so so loyal and always defending Daniel to the press, I think he really did become a close friend. emotional support brit. like I said, george is really really loyal, you can see that in his other relationships with drivers (alex and lewis mainly) and it seems like he's really a safe person for daniel. I mean look how danny clings to him. adorable. (sth sth the child in me is safe with you etc). I just love seeing how genuinely at ease dan seems in every interaction with george..

important moments

I already put in some links up there but doing a collection of some more here.

all the media pen interactions are gold: x / x / x / x / x / x / x

hyping his boy up: x / x / x / x / x / (also remember the time he said to Lando 'if you're curious about winning just ask Danny' bc I still think he deserves a good * for that. lova ya georgie)

btw here's a good danorge post of some moments as well

the helmet swap....tears man, tears....

just general cuteness and shenanigans: x / x (recent addition) / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x / x

rpf pairing

okay soo actually AGES ago, me and jay @dnfstrategist used to talk about this danorge au that was like, george being a business/law student with daniel as his silly, artsy/sporty boyfriend (I don't quite remember, we definitely need to revisit that) and I am still gagging for an AU like that. like them as a couple? so so loyal to eachother, enjoying all the shenanigans, george the strong dependable one wanting to praise and spoil his bf always, daniel so fond and happy and at ease with george...bragging about his smart successful husband...they are marriage for life material fr

they have SO much potential it makes me sad that there is so little danorge writers out there.... there's mainly a few little smutty fics (which is great ofc!) and then one longfic which....oh boy I tell you, def a big big rec for this but be careful it absolutely destroyed me but such amazing writing fr fr.

and I think that's all for now! if I think of more stuff I'll add it later but I think this is it...if u made it all the way here thank u for ur attention! and anon I hope this makes up for the wait <3

#danorge #rpf mention #ship ask game

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ashes-writing · 2 years

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burnin for you pt three | stranger things ; g.emerson

A/N ; I told you guys I love this idiot and I have officially kinda adopted his grumpy ass as one of my own damn it, but anyway... and I wanted to write this for him and all that jazz. Welp, here we kinda have me getting a late night idea about 'stupidest' nicknames that reader and Gareth could call each other -and of course, how to give reader at least one friend that's not hellfire / corroded coffin and a girl so she can do her girly shit and not seem so flat or tragic for me while also exploring reader's home issues and such and inserting ANGST, so here we freakin go.

I shit you not, when the idea for their nicknames came I died laughing. If you guys don't like them, oops? I guess just sub in your own chosen nickname? Look, I'm still working on making the switch from writing OC characters to doing x reader so uh.. I'm trying, lol. [ BTW, i'm gonna attempt to revisit or update the ones for Tommy and Billy, I just.. haven't thought of a way to do it yet. ]

Huuuge huge thanks for all the feedback, oh my god, y'all have been making my days so bright with the comments and the tags and the reblogs and the likes bc I dead ass did not think anybody would read anything I put out bc I am gremlin.. You have no idea how much it truly means to me and I thank you so so so so so much, mwah!

- Ashes

Pairing ; Gareth Emerson x sweet!girly!rich reader [ we're officially calling them pastels and plaid. ]

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; pt I | pt II pt III part IIII can be found here those can and should be read first, then this one.. first of all. Gareth has been aged up to 18 before anybody says a word. I'm putting that out there now. So there's no question about it. This is set in 86 BUT BUT.. the upside down, vecna and all the other stuff that goes along with is not a part of this, it's more of a slice of life thing. So if you're into that... NO DEATHS EITHER BTW.

Tag List ; @allelitesmut @aries-arcade @hcloangcls @heyaitsklaudia @krys-orion @musichealsscars and @scoobiessnacks are the only ones currently on my taglist. If you’d like to be on my taglist for anything I write, including Stranger Things [ here ] add yourself there.

Warnings ; Chrissy -and readers, not so great home lives and her relationship with jason are discussed here so there are some not so nice things (ie, her ED is hinted at here but not really discussed, Jason is an asshole, her mother is verbally abusive and readers parents are just plain neglectful killjoy types who alternate between never being around and purposely taking away things that make reader happy if she's not 'good enough' at them) so before I go any further, that's mentioned heavily in the beginning. It's not that graphic but it is there. Mentions of the devils lettuce + the boys doing a smoking circle after jamming in Jeff's garage, lots of internal pining and the angst that goes with it, use of nicknames/petnames (bunny and meatball, my mind at 2 am, babes i s2g) and that's it.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || - send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

You couldn’t sleep. The house was too quiet and your mind was way too noisy. There’s a park just down the street that you’ve been going out to the swingsets to sit on nights like this. It’s normally empty because this is the gated neighborhood and most of the people in it are usually asleep, so as you make your way down dimly lit streets towards the park, you’re surprised to learn that’s not the case tonight.

Chrissy Cunningham is sitting on the jungle gym, Leaned back with all her weight on her palms, her head tilted back as she gazes at the sky. Remembering she’s one of them, you’re about to turn and make your way back up the street but she spots you and jogs over.

“Wait. Don’t go… Please?”

You eye her warily, a hand on your hip. You start to turn and just walk away anyway because looking at her only brings back the way Brook, the queen bee at your old school confronted you in front of everyone at your old school to tear you down and humiliate you and ruin everything, but you happen to see the red in Chrissy’s eyes.

You try to tell yourself she’s probably high, everybody in your old clique at the boarding school you were in before life -and shitty, neglectful parents, landed you in Hawkins in the big lonely house on the end of the street. But something about that thought doesn’t fit. Then you remember hearing her mother shouting earlier, halfway up the block.

What’s more is you heard her over your father’s true pride and joy, a top dollar home theater system. That wasn’t on low volume by any means because you were trying to drive out the tomb-like silence.

You rub the bridge of your nose and it’s what she says next that sways you into sticking around. “Please don’t go. I…I won’t annoy you and this isn’t a trick, okay? I just... I want someone to talk to right now. Please?”

You take a deep breath. “Fine.” you finally respond. The two of you make your way back over to the jungle gym she’d previously been sitting on and for about ten minutes, you’re both just sitting in complete silence.

“The freaks..” Chrissy starts and you cut her off. “They’re not freaks.” you assert calmly, giving her a warning look. “They’re my friends. I think they are, I dunno...” you go quiet and your words trail off as you look down at the manicure you’d given yourself that afternoon while watching General Hospital and babysitting the two youngest Sinclair girls. You’d done the two girls nails to match, of course.

“Sorry, it’s just…” Chrissy swallows hard, swinging bare feet around, her feet making a soft thud when the heels of them met the wood plank behind them. “That’s what everyone around here calls them. It’s a bad habit and I hate it.”

“Then don’t do it. Y’know, you do have the power to change things.” you say it with a quiet laugh and you immediately apologize. “Don’t take my advice. Trust me.” you add a few seconds later. “Because I tried to change things at the boarding school I was at before… Only ended with me getting fucked over.”

Chrissy cringes and looks at you in concern, but closer up, you’re thinking to yourself that if anyone needs a concerned look right now, it’s her. You start to ask her if she’s eaten because everything about the way her face just looks so damn tired makes you think about Elaine from your old school. Before you can stop yourself and remind yourself that Chrissy is one of them and they’re not to be trusted under any circumstance, you’ve asked the question. “Are you okay?”

“The whole neighborhood heard it.” Chrissy mumbles softly. “I thought just this once she’d be proud of me,y’know?” she’s wiping at her eyes and you tense a little because all you wanted to do when you left your house was come down and sit in silence to look up at the stars.

Try to quiet your own noisy mind and all the doubts and fears in it for just a little while. Try to stop yourself from calling Gareth at fuck all o’clock because he’s the only one you sort of trust and you just needed to hear his voice because you’re determined not to give anybody - a friend, your parents, a boy, that much of a hold on you again.

Instead of admitting that you heard it because that feels like the wrong thing to do somehow, you shrug. “I was watching some stupid show.” you mumble quietly. It’s not a complete lie, you were watching tv when it happened. You just omit the fact that you heard her mother lashing out at both her and her father over the volume level of said television show.

She looks a little relieved that maybe one person didn’t hear her mother lashing out. You manage a weak smile and repeat your earlier question because to an extent, she hasn’t fully answered it. She looks down at her bare feet and shakes her head. “I hate being me.”

And you feel that in your bones. But you don’t say anything. She laughs and it’s a quiet and almost bitter sound. “I mean, perfect boyfriend, perfect grades, perfect body… You’d think I’d be happy…Right?” she shakes her head and mutters a quiet, “Forget it.”

“No,no.” you reach out for her wrist when she goes to leave. “Finish what you were going to say. It’s not like I’m gonna sleep tonight anyway.” with a mild shrug.

“Your parents too?” she asks and the question is almost hopefully phrased as she searches your eyes. You bite your lip and shrug. “Lack thereof, actually. They won’t be back from their little business trip until December, if they even come back. According to my father, they’re in talks to merge with some other entertainment business and go in together to open some nightclub or something. They could be gone a year or something, I really don't know..” you laugh quietly.

“Wasn’t your father talking to the mayor about re-visiting the whole idea to buy out the mall?”

“Yeah, he was. Then he got this offer and decided to go with it. Mayor Kline didn’t want to negotiate, something about the current owners of the mall had a better idea.” you shrug, rolling your eyes.

“So you’re there alone?”

“There’s a cleaning lady that comes in twice a week. It’s not like it’s a big deal.” you shrug it off. It is a big deal but you’re so used to the endless parade of service people in and out and the absence of your actual parents that now you just get numb because there’s no hope left.

“We weren’t talking about me, Chrissy.” you mumble after the silence gets just a little too thick. She sighs. “I hate him. I hate him and I hate my mother. But I still love her and I want her to be proud of me just once so I do everything I can…”

You gaze at her and nod. “Listen, this is your life. Fuck them.”

She manages a nervous smile. Twists a strand of strawberry blonde around her finger. “I wish it were that easy.”

“This is gonna sound selfish but trust me.. Or don’t, whatever.” you’re swinging your feet as you look up at the moon and stars overhead. After a second or two to pause and think about how best to word it, you decide to just say it. “Has that idiot Jason Carver ever done anything good or helpful for you?” you gaze at her.

“Well, no but–”

You shake your head. “No buts. Him ‘making you popular’ or whatever bullshit you were about to say is not important, it doesn’t count.” you laugh quietly. The more you sit and talk to her on the jungle gym in the middle of the night, the more you’re confronted with just how much alike you both are.

You don’t like that, it doesn’t sit well.

This in turn, leads you to sort of think that maybe it’s time you follow the advice you’re giving her. Or try harder to.

“Okay, what about your mother? When’s the last time she actually gave a shit?”

Chrissy’s mouth opens and closes and she’s in deep thought. You shrug mildly. “Do what makes you happy. To hell with your mother definitely, Hawkins High student body and especially that piece of shit Jason Carver.”

“Why are you telling me this? I..” she trails off, laughing softly. “I thought you hated us.”

No sense in deluding the poor girl, you respond quietly, “Most of you, yeah. I wouldn’t spare a drop of pee if most of you were on fire..” you gaze at her thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re different. Maybe it’s not too late for you.” and as you say this, you focus all your energy into it because if it’s not too late for her this means it’s not too late for you.

She manages a weak smile. “Maybe.”

“What does make you happy, hm?”

Chrissy giggles quietly. “There’s this boy.” she starts and instantly, you get the feeling you might possibly not want to hear the rest because if it all centers around a boy -because right now, god that sounds just way too close to home and you’re definitely not in the state of mind to deal with that just yet, it’s probably gonna be an awful disaster for her.

“No, I meant like.. Hobbies?” you clarify what you meant.

“Cheerleading. That really does make me happy. It’s the only thing that keeps me hanging on.”

Like your ballet. That your parents took you out of to put you in boarding school so they could jet around god knows where and do anything but be parents. Your mother claims to this day that she was doing it for your own good because you weren’t good enough and she was saving you from pain later, but you honestly didn’t care if you were any good or not, you just loved to dance. You loved the structure and the discipline because it was something nobody gave a shit about you enough to give to you at home.

Besides the one nanny you had when you were 10, the only one who acted like a goddamn parent and didn’t treat you like you were just some kind of little prop when needed. But they took her too because your father said attachments were something that would make you weak.

You nod and you smile a little. Before you stop yourself with the reminder that again, she is one of them and therefore, not to be trusted even a little, you mumble quietly, “Ballet.” and you give a shrug. “I was in classes but my mother decided I wasn’t doing well enough at it to warrant going anymore.”

Chrissy swallows hard and she doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You mumble an apology because there you go again, making it awkward. “Sorry, I… That should’ve stayed in my head.”

“No, no.. It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

And she doesn’t.

Something she’s thinking about makes her smile just a little and you bite your lip, looking at her. “Okay, out with it. What’s his name?” you decide that maybe it's safer to stick to boys or whatever else you can both think of because this conversation is getting just a shade too heavy right now for you but you want to talk to her, you need to talk to someone.

“Eddie Munson.” Chrissy answers in an almost dreamy and shy tone as she laughs softly. "It feels so good to just say it."

You gape for a second and then you laugh quietly. “Wow. I..” you shake your head, dragging your hand through damp hair, “I was not expecting that.”

“You can’t say anything, alright? Please?” she begs.

You’d never say a word, one, because you dunno if she’s trustworthy or not just yet and two, you know how that feels. To trust somebody with something and then they take it and use it against you somehow, make a total mess of everything.

You rub your forehead.

This entire conversation has been one eye-opener after another.

Some necessary and some, like Chrissy’s confession about having a crush on Eddie Munson, totally shocking. But you feel a little lighter somehow. You come away with the desire to stop letting life run over you repeatedly. To stand up for yourself more. With everyone. To stop giving a shit about anyone who doesn’t give a shit about you.

“I won’t.” you manage a smile and hold up your pinkie despite it being the height of childish. She links her pinkie through and you both laugh quietly.

“Y’know..” you’re not even sure why you’re suggesting it, maybe it’s to save her from Jason Carver turning into a worse man later in life and her being trapped, maybe it’s just for shits and giggles because you cannot, for the life of you picture Eddie, an actual golden retriever idiot, - the thought comes with all the friendly affection you can muster, of course, with her.

“Yeah?”

“Eddie’s a way better person than Jason. Jason’s only going to get worse.”

Chrissy nods. The look in her eyes tells you that this isn’t something she hasn’t thought about a thousand times already. You shrug and lean back against the metal pull bar beside the top of the slide behind you so that you’re actually facing her completely. You laugh a little. “I need to take some of my own advice.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.. that whole fuck them speech? It was aimed at me too.” you admit, going quiet to stare down at the cracks in the wood beneath you. Chrissy laughs softly. “So do it.”

“You first.” you deadpan, sticking out your tongue.

“Okay, what if we both do it?”

“Do you think they’d be able to handle both of us just lighting a match and watching everything and everyone who didn't care enough and we no longer care about burn though?” you ask quietly, kicking your feet again as you admit in a quiet whisper, “Because I’ve got so much anger sometimes I can’t sleep.”

“I know what you mean. Mine isn’t… It’s more pain than anger.”

“Pain turns into anger, you know that, right? But the whole numb thing, that comes first most of the time. Or that’s how it worked for me.”

“Yeah.”

Both of you go quiet again and then she looks at you. “What’s it like?”

“Hm?” you glance up at her.

“Dating Gareth Emerson?”

You laugh softly.

“We’re..” you trail off and lean your head back against the wooden post. “He’s just my friend.”

“But you wish there was more going on… Right?”

You shrug. “A little yes, a little bit I’m too scared to even think about it. I’m a fucking mess, okay? Just like.. Trust me.”

“You don’t seem that bad.”

“Thank you.” you mumble.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Chrissy is poking the bear because she doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell him. She always sees you two around school. And everybody thinks you’re dating him, especially after the brawl that happened a week or two back between him and Mason Allen. A brawl that Mason Allen hasn’t quite gotten over just yet. The thought reminds her that she was going to warn you to warn Gareth and his friends to watch their backs, so she butts in to say so.

“Hey, you might want to warn Gareth.. And his friends. Mason’s furious because Gareth kicked his butt.”

“Oh he is, huh?” you muse, glancing at her. “Is he planning something?”

“Just says that when he catches him alone, he’s going to get him back.”

You scoff. “Yeah, like hell that’s going to happen. I won’t let it.” you assert.

But really, can you stop it? You weren’t brave enough to stand up for yourself thus creating the mess in the first place. Even as the thought hits you, you know that you’re at least going to try. Whatever it takes. Because you’re not going to let Gareth get dragged into something you should’ve been brave enough to handle on your own.

“I’ll warn him later.” you mumble to yourself. Chrissy circles back to her original question, asking again why you don’t just tell Gareth how you feel. You laugh softly. “You first, sweets. I happen to know Munson would be fuckin thrilled. He’s always watching you.” you give her a slightly warmer grin as you say it.

Chrissy nods and takes a deep breath or two. “It’s not that easy.”

“My point exactly.”

“I thought you were dating Gareth, I mean.. He calls you bunny. And you’re always with him. You’re both always kind of touching each other?” Chrissy points out quietly. You laugh again. “I have not the first clue where Gareth came up with that nickname. I just told him he could call me literally anything but my name because I hate it so much and then he started calling me bunny.” you shrug, laughing again. “Knowing him, it probably has to do with me eating vegetables and fruit. Something off the wall like that.”

“What do you call him?” Chrissy giggles as she asks the question, smiling at you all soft and serene.

“Never to his face and this doesn’t leave us, got it?” you look at her and take a deep breath before bursting into laughter. “Pretty boy. I uh.. Had a real interesting dream a few nights ago when I got a little crazy and raided my mom’s wine and I’m pretty sure I called him daddy a thousand times during that.. But seriously,” you’re staring at your pale pink toenails as you swing your feet back and forth, “I call him meatball most of the time. Because he’s stronger than he looks, meatballs are kind of a comfort food for me and like… I dunno where I was going with that. I called him tiger once and his face went so fucking red, it was the cutest thing…” you double over, laughing at your sap and stupidity.

You cringe a little. “That was way too much information.”

“No, it’s okay. This is nice. Can we?” she fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater while looking down, “Can we do this again sometime? Can I talk to you and stuff at school?”

You laugh and shrug. You don’t expect her to follow through on the talking at school thing, not even slightly, but you smile and nod. “Yeah. Sure. Why not?” you mumble, wondering to yourself the whole time if you’re going to regret it in the long run.

Something tells you maybe this time you won’t.

You haven’t regretted a single second since you made the decision not to get sucked right back in with the type of people you used to be friends with and be like, to an extent.

Chrissy grins brightly at you. You manage a slightly smaller bright grin. “Hey, if you ever need somewhere to go, I’m at the end of the street. The big blue house.” you point out your house to her and she nods. “I’ll probably take you up on that a lot.”

– ( jeff’s garage )

The heavy haze hung in the air and Jeff fanned in front of his face a little as he passes the joint to Grant. Grant took a hit and passes it to Eddie.

Eddie nudges Gareth and Gareth blinks.

“Okay, meatball. Focus, idiot.” Jeff laughs out.

Gareth gives him a dirty look and flips him off. “Fuck off, Jeff.”

“What? I can’t call you that but she can? I thought she wasn’t your girl… Meatball.” Jeff scoots himself away from the circle and lays on the cement slab floor laughing his ass off.

“Of all the nicknames. She picks that one.”Gareth shakes his head, laughing even though sometimes, it is a little annoying. But to be fair, you only started calling him meatball when he started calling you bunny.

And now, it’s become a habit.

“Pretty sure she’ll say the same thing, you call her bunny.” Eddie points it out and this prompts the rest of the little circle to glance at Gareth.

Gareth’s face is on fire and he gives Eddie a death glare. “Dickhole.”

“What? I heard you earlier.” Eddie shrugs.

“Of everything you could call her, man.. Bunny? Seriously?” Jeff questions.

“Why bunny?” Grant asks quietly as he fixes his gaze on Gareth, waiting on an answer.

Gareth laughs and shakes his head, taking a hit of the joint before passing it on to Jeff. He exhales and at first, he tries to just shrug it off without answering.

“You know the rule. Spit it out.” Eddie says it so sternly and with such a shit-eating grin at the same time that they all burst out laughing. “This is the circle, Gare. No secrets.”

“Fuckers.” Gareth grumbles, irritated. “Fine. If any of you says a word, I swear to Ozzy..” he trails off and grins, kicking his sneakers together as he leans back, propping on his hands to gaze up at the ceiling. “It’s that little nose wrinkle, okay? It’s.. It’s so fucking cute and it reminds me of that rabbit my older sister Sarah had. And she’s always kicking her foot against the desk.”

Jeff is laughing harder, so hard that he takes a hit and it nearly doubles him over because he can’t stop laughing and he inhales and nearly chokes himself down on the smoke in the process. “Say what now?” he looks at Gareth.

Gareth shrugs and cringes as he adds in a quieter tone, “And she’s shorter than me, there’s that. Look, she’s small and cute… Like a rabbit. If you assholes say one word, I’m gonna kick your asses, got it?”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

“Scout’s dishonor.” Eddie taunts, smirking. Gareth leans out to give him a lazy shove. “Especially not you, asshole.” Gareth warns.

“Aw, he really is in love.”

“I’m not, damn it. I’m not.” Gareth insists, glaring at his friends even though he knows it’s a lie deep down. And even though it’s been weeks now and she hasn’t proven his original assumption right yet, he’s still living every single second that he knows you with the worry that eventually, the other shoe is going to drop.

Only now, he’s gone and fucked up, truly. He’s too attached now. So when -not if, because he’s convinced that this is too good to be true and any day now, he’ll wake up and it’ll have been a dream or a figment of his imagination, something, the bad thing does happen, it’s going to crush the guy.

The more he tries to fight it off, the deeper he winds up falling. It’s exciting, it’s terrifying and it’s frustrating as hell, especially lately, with the little nicknames and the way he can’t stop himself from touching you all the damn time.

“Just fucking do something, Gare. If you don’t, it’s going to drive you crazy and you will explode.” Jeff’s outburst has Grant and Eddie nodding in agreement. “The tension’s so fucking thick you’re kind of giving us all blue balls, idiot. Any second now,” Eddie wags his finger at Gareth with a smug look on his face, “You will explode.”

“I will not. It’ll be fine. Look, maybe being her friend is enough, man.”

“Bullshit.” Grant coughs but doesn’t bother covering the word as he does it.

“Yeah, he’s full of shit.” Jeff agrees, laughing as he shakes his head. “You’re full of shit.”

“That’s the biggest load of horse shit.” Eddie exclaims.

“Fuck all of you, alright? Why aren’t we talking about Munson making ga-ga eyes at a certain cheerleader, huh?” Gareth smirks when Eddie flips him off and he moves away from the circle, laughing. “Doesn’t feel so fucking great, does it?” he asks, folding his arms.

“Your situation and mine are totally different, shithead.” Eddie answers, going quiet. “Y’know I can’t tell her anything. She’s one of them.”

“And any day now, my girl could be too, idiot.” Gareth points out quietly.

Jeff shakes his head. “If you were any more stubborn you’d be a goddamn brick wall, Emerson. If she was going anywhere, she’d have done it at least the third or fourth day she was here. No… she’s always with you, with us, dumb fucker. Wake up.”

“I can’t with him, I really just can’t. Says all that and calls her his girl. Makes no sense.” Eddie mumbles, shaking his head too.

“You’re blind and an idiot, Emerson. And I mean that with all the care in the world.” Grant muses, taking a sip of a soda he only just remembers that he’d grabbed from Jeff’s kitchen earlier.

“As I said just a second ago, fuck all of you.” Gareth flips off his friends as he stands. “I’ll see you assholes tomorrow. Gotta get home.”

And as he’s leaving, his friends' opinions just won’t get out of his head. No amount of shoving them down will help, either because he’s starting to realize, even now, that they’re all right. Sooner or later -probably sooner, just being your friend isn’t going to be enough. It’s already starting, truth be told.

But the poor guy has not the first clue what to do to move things one way or another.

#gareth emerson #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson fanfiction #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth the great #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x fem!reader #gareth emerson x reader fanfiction #gareth emerson x fem!reader fanfiction #/// read the warnings on the top of the post #// i still fucking cant with myself and the nicknames.#// if you're wondering writer totally was not watching a pam and tommy series tribute vid when it struck.#// no no not i never.

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