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#and its okay to just live mundanely
stil-lindigo · 1 year
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floor _
a short comic about struggling to find yourself.
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Hey emma! I hope you're having a great day 🫶💗
As for the tag game, I took the quiz and my result was... The killer.
Which is why I threw my phone across the room and refused to acknowledge this and failed to reblog my results. I am sorry but I won't accept it, maybe I'll try again cause I don't know what went wrong.
I love you so much, I am not a killer <-[said no innocent person ever].
Here have a hug <3
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hey mais!! i'm having an okay day!! i hope yours is fabulous u deserve it <33
and oh my god... the quiz told you you're a killer... you KNOW the quizzes don't lie mais 😳
but i would actually love to know what u get if u take the quiz again. bc if u get killer twice,,,, then im sorry bestie. ur fate is SEALED.
oh a hug! thank u so much 🥰 u must have known that ive been craving a good squeezing today 💜
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in my coming to terms with things era
#honestly not externally. it’s all internal work#because sometimes internally you have an understanding of something that just isn’t so#in reality I mean#and sometimes you have to reread the terms and understand what they are#i Will say that the same way that suffering can feel so much more exquisitely painful when it’s happening to you for real#and you’re not considering it as an abstract concept#doing something as mundane-sounding as coming to terms with things#can actually be so satisfyingly solid and beautiful as an experience#not that it isn’t difficult in its own way but what isn’t.#just. some life lessons that need to be learned sound so dull in the abstract#but in reality if they’re real and true they’re as rich and full of life in their essences as any kind of joyous happening#any kind of real experience that is coming to you directly from circumstances. from so to say the hand of God directly#have this mark to them where they ARE rich#even when the lesson is you need to be more practical and live in reality more and accept the limits of reality more#and stop weaving away your realistic-ish fun light made-of-gauze fantasies all the time#there is a cruelty to that lesson that only exists in the abstract#at least I think so#it can be overwhelming and difficult and bitter when you have to swallow it at first but there is a real sweetness at the root IF IT’s TRUE#anyway like ?????? Come to Me all ye who labor and you will be refreshed#sometimes for a split second I’m like ‘oh okay.’#(then I forget but HERE WE ARE)#thanks for listening <3
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mrfoox · 1 year
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Um. I told Oliver that I'm... Genuinely happy/content with my life
And cried bc i realize that's like the first time I've truly felt that way? Ever. The one by one big thing I want is an life partner otherwise... I think my life is good?
#miranda talking shit#From my standards i guess like... Ideally id have an education . Well paying and stable job and shit#But like... With my mental issues i probably wont ever have that but now i got... Part time work for at least 10 months ...#I can afford my bills... Food... I am getting payed from the government but now at least i am doing work for that pay#Its only 10h per week so nothing crazy but yeah... Idk i... I have always had lovely people around me who i love#Thats been my bright spot since 2017 but my mental health has been garbage#Now i... I live on my own with my cats... I do still have social workers who come help me with stuff but overall#I am so much more independent than i ever thought id be. I am like... I think i am genuinely happy?#I havent felt awful mentally for more than like half a day since last year. Usually i had suicidal thoughts daily#I. Genuinely didn't think I'd ever feel this... Not just okay but good? Nothing is perfect but i never wanted things to be#They are just ... Simple... But it's ... Im happy ? Im scared tl say i am really . Its been months but it still feels like it'll#All change and crash if i say i am. I just ... .... I think for the first time ever i am happy that im alive. Thay i didnt end my life#Previously. 25 years. 15 of those years with depression and more shit but now it's ...#Its so weird like i am not DOING anything really differently. Things are mundane and simple but my medication has helped#So much... And im still me? I think ?
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boygirlctommy · 2 years
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WHY DID HE YELL "SASHA RUN" WHAT THE FUCK WAS BEHIND THE WALL!!!
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tojisun · 1 month
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so obsessed with the “my cock is big so it wont fit” / “try me” relationship dynamic ughhhh thinking about this with simon and reader, and how reader’s desperation made them spiral, makes me so giggly
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thinking about the way you finger yourself everyday to stretch yourself out for simon; preparing yourself for him. practicing for him.
it becomes a routine; it was mundane, almost, but every time the thought that you’re doing this for simon slithers its way back to the forefront of your mind, you lose yourself—doused in the tendrils of your desire, so powerful it has you clenching on your own fingers.
they never hit deeper, never stretch you out wider, but they scratch the itch to be stuffed and manage to satiate you long enough for the next day to roll by.
it’s a lot worse when you meet up with simon because your core throbs with need, leaving you crossing your legs to give yourself that muted relief. but it’s never enough, is it?
simon’s right there, voice thick like molten lava, viscous as it washes over you. “are you alright, love?”
and you lie, gritting your teeth and clenching your fists tightly, telling him that of course you’re fine. because what else can you say? “i dream of your cock so much that i fuck myself everyday as prep”?
if you do say that, simon won’t ever let you live it down. so you stay quiet, crossing-and-uncrossing your legs at every of his deep laugh or gentle crooning, trying your best to ignore the way his palm squeezes the muscle of your thigh. you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose by now because there’s no way simon actually does naturally talk like this—
it’s all teases and taunts as a whirlpool of petnames dribble from his quirked-up lips. he calls you, baby and darling. he calls you sweetheart and lovie. but then he also calls you pup, doll, pet—anything that makes you gasp, and quiet puffs of breaths wheeze out of your trachea in your own stupor.
“you seem distracted,” he murmurs, his voice a worried croon.
“uh-huh,” you say, not really listening, because simon’s hand is climbing up higher and higher on your thigh.
simon notices your stare, because of course he does, then does…
nothing.
he drops you off to your place that night, and leaves a kiss on your forehead before driving off. you watch from your living room window as he disappears from your line of sight before clambering towards your room, tearing your pants off your body and chucking your little slip of underwear behind you as you do so.
you sink into your plush mattress, knees braced by your softer pillows, before reaching behind you to plunge yourself with your fingers. two of them slide in easily, and you crook them just right until you’re mewling. moaning. crying.
simonsimonsimon—
your orgasm is a sharp rip of euphoric release. but the tidal wave of your ecstasy wafts off into its remnants just as quick because this, fucking yourself, isn’t the fix you want. it isn’t the fix you need.
(that said, making simon buckle was a lot easier said than done.)
you parted your legs yourself, planting your hands on the underside of your thighs to pull them open for simon. simon laughs when he saw this, his pale cheeks so flushed with his own desire.
“hurry,” you whine, all choked-up with your desperation, and simon only croons a warning.
“we need ta’prepare you, pup. i’m too big f’r you.”
his acknowledgment makes you leak, your wanton thoughts turning into slick that gushes out of you. simon laughs, so utterly endeared.
“i prepared myself, si! please put it in!”
simon sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “i thought you wanted my cock?”
he waits for you to nod. you do so, careful, as your wet eyes look up at him.
“hmm. so listen to daddy, yeah?”
“okay,” you mumble, too overwhelmed to fight back.
simon smiles, murmurs his praises, and then he’s bringing his head between your legs. you squeak, surprise dotting your vision. you expected simon to prepare you, yes, but you expected his fingers—long, rough, thick—and not his tongue—
“siii-monnnn,” you keen, legs buckling from your hold until they tumble to his back, your strength getting zapped out of you at every lap of simon’s tongue.
it’s so good! so, so good!
simon takes over, hooking your legs over his shoulders himself as he burrowed deeper, nose grinding against the sensitive underside of your sex. his tongue pushes against your walls, sliding between them, and then simon sucks.
fuck! fuck—
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sorta pt 02
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zeezu-ix · 2 months
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throws these band au designs at you and runs away
OKAY OUGH. ive been considering making another blog to info dump about this au because its INCREDIBLY daunting on this one abshd
but for now this'll do o7
OKAY SO AU SUMMARY. Sonic, Silver n Shadow are in a band called Triple☆S (the star is for funsies), its managed by Eggman and he looooves to overwork them. foams at the mouth at the idea of boy band revenue. Overall he's just a shit manager but due to a contract that they all haphazardly read (minus Shadow who quirked a brow but signed anyways) its a little hard to leave (also them being very inexperienced in this whole band thing doesnt help and Eggman most definitely takes advantage of that). Overtime they start to see just how Fucked Up Eggman and his whole business is (He creates household cleaning robots and then military equipment in secret, these are all infused with animals!!!) and start to revolt against him.
They all live in a condo that Eggman had given them within his building (shenanigans ensue). This luxury is nice and all but the constant grind is making them miss their old lives, no matter how mundane it was.
also they did not know eachother prior to this band forming!!!! this au sorta follows them and their friendship developing!! their incredibly clashing aesthetics end up making a really funky looking friend group.
this entire au was inspired by this post i made a while ago!!
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bimbobaggins69 · 9 months
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first time for everything…
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virgin eddie munson x experienced best friend reader
summary: Eddie has been in love with you since middle school. But he’d never admit it, no way, he’d never ruin what you two have… once he turns 18 he’s unwillingly drafted into the war while you go off to college in New York. Once the war is over Eddie is sent back to his mundane life in Hawkins and you move back when your grandmother gets sick. As fate has it, you and Eddie find your way back to each other.
warnings: smut ahead, mdni 18+, angst, late 60s—mid 70s au, fem reader, no y/n, pet names (princess, sweetheart etc.), mentions of slut shaming, reader is looking for love in all the wrong places, jealous!eddie, mentions of war, mentions of dying, Eddie has ptsd, mentions of a loved one having only months to live, loss of a family member, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, cream pie, fluff fluff fluff.
authors note: thank you so much to the nonnie that requested this, I’m sure it’s so different from what you had in mind but I got very inspired after watching Forrest Gump. (this has a happy ending) Also, the timeline here vs the actual Vietnam war barely coincide… so ignore that please. Thank you to my loves @take-everything-you-can & @corrodedcorpses for beta reading! <3
wc: 8.1k
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1966
“Hey, what are you doing sitting over here all alone?” A boyish voice calls out from behind where you’re seated; up against an old oak tree with just enough shade to allow you to read the words in your book.
Middle school was rough and you kept to yourself, being the new kid and all. Making friends in Bumsville, Indiana turns out was way harder than making friends in Phoenix. This town was far too small and with the way you’d dress and carry yourself, well… that was clarification enough that you didn’t belong. But that was okay, you didn’t want to belong in a place like this, anyway.
“Just reading.” Your small bashful voice is such a stark contrast to how you are at home, in a place of comfortability.
“Yeah, I see that… whatcha reading?” The mystery voice now no longer a mystery as he steps out from behind the tree, his worn and tattered converse step closer, causing you to look up, meeting a familiar set of brown doe eyes.
He wasn’t in your class but you had seen him a bunch, throughout the halls and at lunch.
He seemed to be the only interesting person in this hick town.
You pick your pink book up, allowing him to read the title, which he does out loud to himself.
“Valley of the dolls.” He says curiously. “What’s that about?”
The book looked far too girly for his taste, but as long as it gave him more reason to stand here and talk to you, he’d indulge.
“Wait, let me guess… something about dolls?” He smirks, while taking a seat on the fluffy grass, beside you.
“No actually, it’s about three best friends who live in New York, they’re struggling to get by so they decide to make their mark in show business, but shit just kind of spirals for them and well it’s not a very happy ending.” You fix your bookmark in place before closing it and placing it into your backpack.
“Oh, also ‘dolls’ is just another word for drugs.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders.
Eddie stays silent for a moment, before he looks over to you, hands nervously picking at the grass below him.
“Mmm, sounds interesting… guess it’s true what they say, not to judge a book by its cover.” He says with a shy smile.
1968
“Would you scoot over!” You screech, while shoving your elbow into the frizzy haired boy, practically sitting in your lap.
You and Eddie had been inseparable best friends, since that very interaction under the big oak tree. You were both immediately drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. He agreed, you seemed to be the only interesting thing in this hick town.
“It’s my couch, woman!” He screeches back, playfully pushing your head out of the way.
“Fine, I’ll just sit on the floor.” you scoff before scooting your butt down from the couch, plopping onto the scratchy brown carpet. You roll your eyes when Eddie decides to dramatically fling himself across the whole couch, as if he’s been waiting for you to move your ass this whole time, the jerk.
“Hey, did I tell you Billy asked me to go to the drive-in with him?” You say as your eyes remain on the television set, hand mindlessly grabbing for the popcorn bowl placed on the coffee table.
You miss the way Eddie visibly swallows, and the way his fists tighten on the material of his jeans.
“Um, no you didn’t.” He mumbles, as his longing eyes burn holes into the back of your head.
“Yeah, well he did.” You take a sip of your Pepsi, washing down the kernels of popcorn stuck to your tongue. “Do you think he’ll wanna go all the way?” You ask Eddie before taking another sip.
His eyes widen into saucers before he begins wiping his clammy palms against his clothed thighs.
You’d never talked about sex with Eddie, maybe about some girls he thought were cute and vice versa, but never sex.
Ahem, he clears his throat before he speaks. “I don’t know, but he’s a guy so I wouldn’t put it past him.” His doe eyes, usually so full of light now droop like one of those precious moments dolls.
He begs the universe for you not to look back at him, he knows as soon as you do you’ll be able to read him like a book.
You’ll know you’re breaking his heart.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready though.” You say, before grabbing another handful of buttery popcorn.
“Then you shouldn’t do something you’re not ready for.” Eddie says with a deep breath of relief.
“But I mean, I kind of want to just get it over with, I don’t buy into the bullshit of ‘waiting for the right one’ it’s such horse shit, and is only a thing because of the patriarchy.”
Eddie so badly wants to say: I’m the right one, lose it to me.
But he could never put his heart out there like that, to inevitably be stomped on. He knows you’d never purposely break his heart, but he also knows he’s in love with someone that couldn’t possibly feel the same way for him, and that’s just something he has to live with.
Even if that means sitting on the sidelines while boys come and go. He knows he’ll always be your number one…well until you fall for some douchebag after high school and realize Eddie’s just your friend, and is eventually replaced when you decide to get married and have said douchebags, douchebag offspring.
But he’ll place that in a box in his mind to deal with later.
1970
You lost your virginity to Billy the night he took you to the drive in.
Those feelings of being wanted and loved, although just for that night sent you on a high you thought you’d never come down from.
Your freshman year, you went on lots of dates, slept with lots of undeserving guys and although those feelings never followed you home, you felt as though it was worth it to just feel them if even for 5 minutes.
You were playing a dangerous game, especially in a small town where word of your promiscuity would travel faster than a forest fire.
And although Eddie had begrudgingly heard the rumors in the locker room and in some of his classes, he never looked at you differently, never judged you.
He’d stick up for you every time, although that led to plenty instances of him getting the shit kicked out of him. He already had a target on his back, being the freak and all, but he didn’t care, no one was going to disrespect you, not in his presence, anyway.
His feelings never seemed to fade, his heart still beat for you no matter who you gave yourself to.
Of course Eddie wanted to be your first, but you were right, it is a social construct in order to make women more subservient to men, Eddie was a feminist afterall.
“Aw, did you wait here for me?” You ask as your hands clutch your trapper keeper to your chest.
Eddie was leant up against the brick wall of the school, the right sole of his shoe was flush against it, knee bent as his skin protruded from the hole in his jeans. A lit cigarette dangled from between his lips, a habit he had just picked up from an older boy that lived in the trailer across from him.
“Well duh, now that that asshole you were seeing isn’t driving you anymore, I thought we could walk together.” He mumbles before taking a puff of his spliff.
“You’re so sweet to me.” You smile before snatching the cigarette that now blazed between his ringed fingers, you take a quick inexperienced puff before passing it back.
He smirks while taking one last hit of his cigarette before tossing it to the floor and stomping it out for good measure under his beaten and written on converse. He’s glad the action has given him a chance to get a good look at you as you walk ahead of him, it was his favorite thing to do when you’d both go on mindless strolls.
“You look pretty today.” The compliment slipped so easily from his lips.
You turn around to meet his eye, walking backwards rather uncoordinatedly.
“You look pretty, too.” You say with a wink, before turning back around.
Eddie was none the wiser that day, when your face flushed for him the very first time.
1971
“Eddie! Put me down!” You shriek as you kick and flail, the water from the pool splashing around and creating tiny waves for the other swimmers.
“Never!” He says ironically before throwing you into the far end, his maniacal laugh can be heard from under water.
“You’re such a dick sometimes, Munson.” You say as you swim to the steps, hoisting yourself up and out of the community pool.
You’re in a little red bikini and the way your hips sway has Eddie mesmerized.
You sit on one of the lawn chairs, drying off under the beaming sun.
“Hey, is this seat taken?” Your eyes shoot open, falling on two round pools of honey.
“Um no, not at all.” You say as you give the boy a shy smile.
“I’m Steve.” He says as he takes a seat in the chair closest to you.
“Hi, Steve.” His name felt like sex on your tongue.
Eddie watched from the pool as you and Steve got acquainted, he wanted to punch himself for practically pushing you into the arms of another guy.
He couldn’t sit here and watch you laugh at this asshole's jokes, he had to get out of here.
1972
“Why am I so hard to love?” You cry out, mascara running down your face, as your head is placed in your best friend's lap.
“You’re not hard to love!” He says before tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear, and thumbing a tear off the side of your cheek. “You just keep picking the worst douche canoes available.” He says with a small chuckle.
“I thought Steve was different, he really acted like he cared about me, ya know?” You sniffle as your manicured fingers play with the fringe of Eddie’s jeans.
“Yeah well, those jock assholes will tell you anything to get in your pants.” Eddie says with a tick of his jaw.
“You’re right, I should become celibate or something… I’m just so tired of letting these assholes take from me, without getting anything in return.” You murmur with another sniffle.
Eddie liked that idea, you being celibate.
For your own good, of course.
1973
“Oh my god! Can you believe we’ll be out of this shithole soon?” You eagerly say, as you walk up to your best friend's locker.
The glum look in his eyes does not go unnoticed by you.
“Hey Eddie, what's wrong?” Your eyes examine the slump of his shoulders and the bloodshot red in his eyes, although that could be from him smoking during lunch, but the puffiness underneath tells you otherwise.
He slammed his locker before making his way towards the double door exit, not even stopping to take a second look at your stunned face.
You run after him, launching yourself between Eddie and the door of his van.
“Eddie, talk to me, what happened?” The urgency in your voice makes his eyes begin to water, again.
“I got my draft letter yesterday after school, they’re sending me to fucking Vietnam.” His eyes don’t meet yours, they can’t or it’ll make this all so much worse.
“Eddie, I’m so sorry.” Your lip begins to quiver at the thought of Eddie in a foreign place, getting bombed and shot at. “Ed’s, I-I…” you’re not even sure what to say, how to make him feel better, you couldn’t even if you tried. For the first time since you’ve known him, you were unable to comfort him.
“I gotta go.” He says before smoothly stepping around you and getting into his van, his wheels peel off leaving tire tracks on the tarmac.
You knew Eddie wasn’t mad at you specifically, he was mad at the situation. You and him had talked about running off together and getting out of this podunk town so much it had become a common topic when you two would hang out. You had agreed to get an apartment, you’d go to college while he got a good paying job with his diploma. But that dream quickly went down the drain when he got his draft letter in the mail.
All he wanted was to be with you, wherever you both decided to fuck off to, but now you’d be going alone, and he’d be sent off to a war he could potentially die in.
Class of 73’
“Give it up for the class of 73’!” Principle Higgins shouted into the mic, sat on top of the wooden podium.
You and Eddie's eyes had met a handful of times during the ceremony and every time they did, a lump would form in your throat at the idea of this being it for you two.
Everyone clapped and whistled as you threw your green tasseled hat into the air with Eddie and the rest of your classmates.
You make your way into the crowd of parents and friends ready to congratulate their new graduates.
“Congratulations sweetheart.” Uncle Wayne says, while wrapping you up into a grizzly bear of a hug.
“Thanks Wayne.” You say with a bashful smile. “Where’s eddie?” Your eyes scan the crowd as you look for your favorite curly headed freak.
“Oh he’s around here somewhere.” Wayne softly smiles as he gives your back a small pat. “I'm gonna go talk to Ms. Duvall right over there. I’ll see you later, kid.” He says with one last heartfelt smile.
You nod your head in understanding before you go right back to scanning over the herd of people.
“Hey you.” The same voice from that day under the oak tree, calls out from behind you, well you had to admit it was a little more manly now.
You turn around quickly on your heel, eyes meeting your favorite pair.
“Hey.” You say with a bright smile, your heart begins beating a mile a minute, with feelings settling into your stomach that you weren’t quite ready to assess.
“We did it!” Eddie says before grabbing the back of your head, fingers sliding through your hair as he pulls you into a warm hug. The side of your face resting on his chest makes your stomach flutter so hard you think you might puke from the nervousness he’s is stirring within you.
These feelings were too new and they scared the shit out of you.
“So you ready for New York?” He asks with a melancholy smile.
“Honestly? No, not really.” You say muffled into his chest before you pull away to look at him.
You weren’t ready to start a life without your best friend.
“When do you leave?” His hand continues to slide through your hair, making your stomach flip upside down.
“In a couple days.” You murmur before swallowing hard, now unable to meet his eyes.
“You’ll have a good time, meet some cool people.” He’s trying to pretend his heart isn’t breaking but the look in his eyes is not lost on you, your heart is breaking too.
“I couldn’t ever meet anyone as cool as you.” You whisper as your glassy eyes now meet his.
He smiles albeit a weak one, but he wishes those words were true.
“You staying celibate through college?” He joked, giving your arm a little nudge.
“That’s the plan, but who knows.”
The implications set Eddie’s stomach ablaze in the most painful way.
If I don’t find someone, fall in love and replace you.
Fuck the government for choosing him to fight in a war he didn’t even believe in. He could’ve been getting ready to leave with you, maybe even get the chance to finally tell you how much he’s been in love with you ever since he sparked up a conversation under that big oak tree.
There was no way he could tell you that now, he’d hate himself forever if he knew there was any chance you could’ve been his for all these years. It’s too late for him now.
You had stayed with Eddie that night, your stomach was in absolute knots just thinking about leaving him, you needed one more night with him, if this was the last chance you’d get to ever see each other again, you needed it. Just for tonight.
You spent most of it in each other's arms, crying and replaying your favorite memories and then crying some more.
He had confided in you, told you that if he died while overseas he’d die a virgin.
Eddie was never open with you about girls that he was seeing, you had assumed he’d had sex with at least one. The shock on your face was enough to make him want to cower away in embarrassment.
You’d both thought about making love to each other that night. You so badly wanted to be his first, get to have him in that way before life ran its course, but you just couldn’t. You knew it would make leaving each other that much harder, and fuck was it already so hard.
1974
College in New York was chaotic to say the least, life was so fast paced, it had taken so long to get accustomed.
And with your new fast paced, busy life, it left it close to impossible to sit down and write letters.
You and Eddie hadn’t spoken in almost a year.
Then there was Brendon, a guy you had met in your economics class. He was nice, he treated you better than you’d ever been treated but it just never felt right. It was almost as if there was a wedge, something in between you two making it impossible for you to fall in love. Someone.
August of 75’
You had gotten a rather urgent call from your grandpa, glumly notifying you that your grandma was sick and only had months to live.
You’d taken the first flight out back to Hawkins.
Your grandparents were all you had, you couldn’t stay in New York knowing you’d never get to see your gram gram again.
You had worked so hard these past two years, but in the end you had decided family came first. You would take a year off from college if it was required, just to help your papa after gram passed.
Walking out of the airport and into the warm summer sun of Hawkins was bittersweet.
This is the first time you’d be here while Eddie wasn’t. There wasn’t a moment that passed where you didn’t think about him. You questioned whether he’d be mad that he didn’t hear from you after all this time, or even care at all.
More than anything you hoped he was okay.
You never kept up with the news and what was going on over there. It was too much, too real.
September of 75’
Your gram had passed three weeks after your arrival back in Hawkins, you had done your best to stay by her bedside as your papa got things arranged for her eventual funeral.
You were numb for the first couple days until you had eventually broken down and sobbed for a good hour and a half.
The thought of losing Eddie made the tears fall even harder. You loved your gram but you were in love with Eddie, you knew that now. If he didn’t make it, you didn’t know how you’d handle it. How you’d ever move on.
You could kick yourself for not writing to him, at least to ask if he was okay.
What if he thinks you don’t care about him now? You’d hope he’d understand that college was so busy for you.
21st of September 1975
Grams funeral had been lovely, a celebration of her life with her closest friends and loved ones.
The funeral house was a quaint little tudor style home. Her pictures had been displayed beautifully among a table of red roses.
You cried when the funeral director had closed her casket for good.
25th of September 1975
You had spent your morning and afternoon cleaning your grandparents house. Your papa left on a fishing trip, said he couldn’t be in this house any longer.
You understood how he must be feeling, stuck in a place that holds so many memories of you and the love of your life, that would be hard for anyone.
You decide to order a pizza and watch a movie after your warm shower.
You slip into a pink nightgown that sat just above your knees before making your way towards the bathroom to brush your hair and teeth. Just as you were flipping the light switch off and walking out into the hall the doorbell echoed throughout the house.
They sure do deliver pizza fast
You thought to yourself as you counted the money in your purse that had been sitting on the entry table.
“Wow, I just placed my order ten minutes—” the words die on your tongue as you swing the door open. Standing there on the front porch in a Black Sabbath shirt, blue jeans and shorter hair than you were used to, was Eddie.
Your Eddie.
He looked almost as stunned to see you, as you were to see him.
“Hey, I thought you’d be back in New York by now.” Eddie assumed as his eyes took in the expanse of your body.
“No, I uh I decided to stay.” You utter as you nervously play with the hem of your pink gown.
Your action pulls the dress up higher on your leg, exposing more of your upper thigh.
Eddie’s eyes shoot down to the area before looking back up at you.
“I came by to give my condolences to your grandfather.” He says with a sad smile.
“Oh yeah, he won’t be back for a couple days.” You respond, finally dropping your gown before smoothing it out with nervous hands.
“Well, my condolences to you.” He says with a far off look in his eyes.
This man standing here is so different from the Eddie you once knew. His posture is immaculate, his arm and legs stiff as stone and the brightness of his eyes now dull and almost nonexistent.
“Do you wanna come in? I ordered pizza and I was gonna watch a film.” You say with a hint of desperation.
“I uh, I shouldn’t. I should go.” Eddie says before he begins to walk away, he stops in his tracks and shoots a glance back at you.
“Why didn’t you write to me?” Eddie’s face is so stoic you can’t tell if he’s sad or just curious.
“I wanted to, Eddie. I was just so busy—” you begin but Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore.
His black boots carry him back to his van. He can’t stand there and listen to how you’ve moved on, or had the time of your life in college and forgot about him.
2 days later
You had been beating yourself up for what felt like days.
He had every right to feel the way he did, to be mad and angry. You couldn’t blame him for that.
But you’d be damned if he didn’t at least know these feelings you’d been harboring for him.
You were both home now, nothing was holding you back from finally confessing to Eddie that he’s who you want.
You decide to bake a cherry pie, before getting ready and heading over to forest hills.
You would get on your knees and grovel if it meant Eddie would forgive you. Just because you didn’t write to him didn’t mean you didn’t think about him everyday. You couldn’t count how many nights you’d lay in bed touching yourself to thoughts of him, you hadn’t even gone all the way with Brendan, you couldn’t. Not with Eddie at the forefront of every thought you had.
You pull up to the familiar trailer, not much has changed aside from far less beer cans littering the ground.
You walk up the steps, pie in hand as you knock one, two, three times on the dingy white door.
“One sec.” A familiar voice calls out from the other side.
The door swings open, Eddie is standing there shirtless. The only article of clothing on his very toned and muscular body were his old Hawkins high gym shorts. You were pretty sure he’d never actually worn them in high school.
His face looks even more stunned than when he showed up on your doorstep a couple days ago.
“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was hard and impossible to read.
“Eddie, please just let me explain myself. Can I please come in and talk?” You held the pie out to him as if some kind of peace offering.
“Is it cherry?” He says with absolutely no emotion.
“It is.” You confirm
There’s a long pause before his voice gruffly retorts
“Fine.” He moves out of the doorway allowing you to walk through, your bodies barely rub together as you pass but shockwaves are sent throughout, you could feel them all the way down to your toes.
You set the pie down on the yellowing countertop.
Eddie digs in the cabinets for a knife, two plates and two forks.
The gesture makes you smile to yourself as you sit in the little two seater kitchenette.
Eddie cuts the pie, setting your plate in front of you, while he takes the seat closest to the telephone hanging on the wall.
“So go ahead…” Eddie says with a mouthful of your cherry pie.
“I’m so sorry Ed… I had almost no time for anything, New York is so fast paced and chaotic, I really had no time… but I thought about you constantly.” You admit as you lightly stab your pie with your fork.
“I thought about you, too.” Eddie whispers, your eyes find eachothers before he looks away, taking another bite of the pie. “This is really good, thank you.” He says with another mouthful.
Usually you would be disgusted by a man talking with his mouth full of food, but with Eddie you couldn’t help but find it endearing and cute.
“Yeah, it’s the least I could do.” You say before finally taking a bite of your own.
“So how have you been?” You were almost afraid to ask such a question, after everything he’s gone through, everything he’s had to see.
“I’ve been good, just getting back into the groove of being home, ya know.” He says with a smile that has yet to reach his eyes.
“Yeah, I do.” You murmur before standing up and walking to the sink to wash your crumb filled dish.
Once it’s dried and put away and you’ve repeatedly gone over the spiel in your head about how you want to confess your undying love to the man seated a couple feet away, you turn around, eyes meeting him as you realize his chocolate browns have been on you this whole time.
“Eddie, I need to tell you something…”
He stands from his seat, bringing his plate to the sink, carelessly dropping it in before he turns back to face you.
It’s like he’d grown a whole foot, he was towering over you now, looking down at you with those doe eyes you’d so often thought about.
“What do you need to tell me?” He whispers as he steps closer to you, his black boots kissing your brown wooden clogs.
The words almost die in your throat at his close proximity and how fast your heart is hammering in your chest. You wonder if it could be heard from his place in front of you, surely if he stepped any closer it would be.
“I’m in love with you, Eddie.” Your eyes dart across his handsome face meanwhile biting at your lip out of nervousness as you wait for him to say something, anything.
He exhales a deep breath as his shoulders drop into a relaxed state.
“Fuck,” he huffs before pulling you into a tight hug. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you, sweetheart.” His voice is muffled by your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder.
You pull away, grabbing his face with your small hands. You look him in the eyes before you begin speaking—
“I’m so sorry Eddie, I’m so sorry for everything. I should’ve known that you were it for me. It just took me a little longer, but I promise I’m here now.” Your foreheads meet as tears run down your cheek, “I’m here now.” You repeat.
“I love you so much, princess.” He whispers before he’s pulling you into a tender kiss, that soon grows more and more needy.
He slips his tongue into your mouth and they simultaneously glide together. You can taste the salt from the tears that have fallen onto both of your lips. It makes the kiss that more meaningful.
“You still celibate?” Eddie asks after breaking the kiss. His smirk tells you he’s joking, but you don’t care, you need him. You’ve waited too long for this.
“I didn’t have sex in college, not even once.” You admitted before kissing his lips again, “I’ve been waiting for you.” The longing look in Eddie’s eyes flash to something that could only be described as hunger.
Without another word, he’s picking you up by the back of your thighs, your legs instinctively wrap around his muscular hips. He’s so strong, the throbbing between your legs gets even worst at the thought of him fucking you just like this.
Eddie made his way down the hall to his old room, you took a glance around noticing most of his things in boxes meanwhile more of Wayne’s things have moved in.
“Are you moving?” You ask curiously.
“Yeah, I got my own place. I’m moving in tomorrow.” He says before softly throwing you on his mattress. “Wayne sorted it out for me while I was…away.” You notice the stiffening of his body immediately, as if even thinking about where he’d been causes such inner turmoil.
“C’mere baby.” You murmur with a saccharine grin, his eyes light up at the pet name, causing your insides to flutter.
He slots himself between your legs, his muscular arms now fisting the bed while your head lays caged between them.
You can feel the way his body slightly trembles.
“It’s okay Ed’s, it’s just me.” You whisper into his ear sending shivers down his spine.
“Just you is a big deal to me, sweetheart.” He smiles before rubbing the tip of his nose against yours.
“I want you to make love to me, Eddie.” You say as you push his shorter hair back to get a better look at the face you've missed for far too long.
He groans before dropping his head to your shoulder.
“Fuck, I want to baby, I really do. But I-I have no idea what I’m doing and you’re you, ya know? I’m gonna make a fool out of myself, and I just can’t do that, not with you.” He lifts his head up to study your face before he begins gently rubbing his nose on your cheek, he places light kisses to the area before he places a sweet kiss to your lips.
“I don’t care, I want you… you don’t even have to do anything, I’ll do it all.” You say before placing kisses of your own across his face. “I need you, Eddie… I’m so wet for you, baby.”
“Jesus, you tryna kill me, woman?” He playfully snarks before blowing a raspberry into the side of your neck making you giggle and squirm away. “Okay yeah, I'm ready.” He admits as his beautiful doe eyes meet yours, he holds your chin between two fingers before sweetly kissing you, again. “I’m so glad it’s with you, sweet girl.” He whispers into your lips.
“I love you.” You whisper back
“I love you.” He feels like he’s in a dream, like one wrong move and you’ll slip through his finger, again.
“Lay on your back.” You bashfully demand, you weren’t used to being the one in charge when having sex, but for Eddie you’d do anything.
Eddie gives you a pointed look as his eyebrows raise high on his half concealed forehead.
Your feet hit the brown scratchy carpet before you’re turning around to give Eddie a little show.
Maybe stripping for him will give him a little more confidence, or it’ll probably just make him really horny… either way was fine with you.
Eddie continues gawking at you in wonder, still a little clueless as to what you were doing.
Such an innocent boy.
You begin to remove your blue jean button up vest, slowly unhooking each one by one.
Eddie catches on after the first button, a devious smirk slowly forms onto his face as he lays back with his head on the pillow. He dramatically swings his hands behind his head and crosses his legs as he enjoys the show.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, sweetheart.” He beams with a wink.
You finally get down to the fifth button before slowly opening it and exposing your bare breast to him.
His eyes widen with shock and his body stiffens along with the member in his gym shorts.
“Holy shit.” He whispers before sitting up to get a better view. “You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?” His cheeks burn with excitement and nervousness. He flicks his tongue out to wet his pink plump lips before beckoning you closer to him.
You step between his spread legs and look down as Eddie is now eye level with your tits.
He’s only seen boobs in magazines and movies but yours are by far the best. He had a feeling when he used to watch you in that red bikini when you both would hit the community pool during the scorching summers that they were nice. He remembers the way your nipples would poke through the fabric and the way they’d bounce when you’d run away from him.
“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks as if you didn’t just beg him to fuck you.
“Of course.” You purr back.
Eddie quickly brings both hands to your tits gently massaging them before running a calloused thumb over the hardening bud. The action forces a moan from between your lips making Eddie’s eyes shoot up to yours. He wants to pull that noise from you as much as he can.
“That feel good?” He breathily asks as if he can’t believe you’re letting him touch you like this.
“Feels really good, ed.” you whimper before he’s grazing his other thumb across your peaked nipple making an even more erotic moan leave you.
Your body slightly jerks when you feel Eddie’s wet lips encapsulate your nipple, you look down to see he is already looking at you, looking at your reaction to the way he’s making you feel.
Your eyebrows furrow as you vigorously bite at your lip. The sight in front of you is a scene straight out of your wet dreams, the wet dreams that would play on an instant loop in your twin size bed in your muggy dorm room across from your god fearing roommate.
Eddie continues to lick and suck as his confidence grows, every thrash of his tongue sends a searing shock of electricity to your cunt.
You need him now.
“Lay back for me Eddie baby, let me finish the show.” You whisper as your nails softly scrape against his scalp making him groan with his mouth full, he pulls off with a pop leaving your nipples peaked and cold from the wetness.
“Yes ma’am.” He snickers before scooting back to lay in his previous position.
You completely remove the vest from your body, throwing it towards the end of the bed but it slips off and onto the floor.
You’ll worry about that later.
You begin making work at removing your matching blue jean bell bottoms, slowly inching them down your legs as teasingly as possible for the flustered man who lays just inches from you.
Once your jeans are around your ankles, you make hasty work at removing them before kicking them off somewhere to be dealt with later.
You stand there in your pink cotton panties as Eddie’s eyes travel along your body. He adjusts himself in his shorts before his eyes fall to your last garment of clothing and then back up to meet yours. You know exactly what he’s asking.
So you shove your thumbs in the cotton fabric and remove them albeit much faster than your jeans.
You stand upright before kicking your panties towards where your jeans haphazardly lay.
Once you’re fully exposed to Eddie he darts up on his elbows as his eyes take in every inch; from the patch of hair between your thighs to the soft skin of your legs to the way your hips curve. His aloof disposition is such a stark contrast to the way he’s losing his fucking mind on the inside; he’s on cloud nine, he’s thanking a god he doesn’t even believe in for allowing him to be here and alive for this moment, a moment he’s thought about way too often.
You slowly saunter up to the foot of the bed, ready to straddle Eddie’s lap before he’s placing his hand out to stop you. “There’s no fucking way I’m lasting more than thirty second if you’re on top.” He huffs with a self deprecating smile.
“That’s okay, we can go again later…you’ll eventually learn how to hold it, it’s really not a big deal plus this is about you anyway.” You smile reassuringly before he nods his head for you to continue.
The way you said ‘we can go again later’ alone almost made him cum, so he knows he doesn’t have a fighting chance in hell to last while you're bouncing all pretty on his cock.
Nevertheless, you straddle his waist, the hardness in his shorts already hitting your exposed clit so nicely, you couldn’t help but whine.
“Fuck, this is almost too much.” Eddie whispers before his hands shoot down to your waist as you give his lap an experimental drag of your core, along the soft cotton of his shorts.
“Are you sure about that?” You smirk before your hands fall to his painfully hard cock that is far too clothed for your liking.
You sit back on his thighs, dragging the material down his legs. He begins thrashing around trying to kick them off so desperately, you can’t help but to giggle.
“Oh is that funny?” He says in a stern voice that has you clenching around nothing. You definitely want to dive into that Eddie in the future.
Or right now.
“No, sir. I’m sorry.” You pout with a swift bat of your lashes.
Eddie’s jaw tightens at your words, he doesn’t know why that is turning him on so much but Jesus Christ, is it.
Finally, you look down to where Eddie’s cock lays against his lower stomach. He’s way bigger than you expected and so pretty, the prettiest one you’ve ever seen.
It twitches before your hand slowly moves in to grab it.
“Do you think you could last if I got a little taste of this perfect cock?” You whisper into Eddie’s ear, making the skin there tinge a reddish pink.
“I can barely last with your hand wrapped around me, baby.” He groans in pleasure.
“Okay, we’ll save that for later, too.” You wink, before you spit in the palm of your hand bringing the glob to Eddie’s cock as you stroke him, getting him nice and wet to easily slip inside of you.
“Oh my fuck-” Eddie grits before his eyes snap shut, the skin around them wrinkling as he tries to think of anything but your spit on his dick, as you rub him so expertly.
“I’m gonna put it in now, Ed…you ready?” You ask before he’s rapidly nodding his head, his eyes still held tightly shut.
You lift up, rubbing his wet tip against your already soaked pussy before it begins to breach your hole.
“Oooh fuck.” Eddie whimpers.
You begin to inch your way down slowly so as not to overwhelm him. You’re trying not to go too fast, too soon.
Eddie brings the back of his hand to his mouth and begins biting on the skin as a distraction to what’s going on in his lap. He still can’t look down, or it’ll all be over before it begins.
You finally sink all the way down to the hilt, which has Eddie whimpering and cursing below you.
You study his face and how in pain he looks.
“Hey, do you need me to stop?” His eyes shoot open at your question.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” Eddie huffs as if he’s out of breath. “Please baby, please keep going…you just feel so fucking amazing and I’m trying here, I’m really fucking trying.” His eyes quickly shut, again.
“Ed’s, open your eyes for me…you’re doing so good, just look at me please?” You murmur as you move closer to his face, rubbing at his scalp like you know he likes.
“I can’t.” He whispers.
“Yes, you can.. just look at me, wanna see you when you cum.” That pulls a growl from the back of his throat.
His eyes slowly open as he takes in the sight of you stuffed full of his cock. You begin to move, slowly grinding before you’re bouncing your hips up and down on him. Your tits jiggle with every move and now it’s like he can’t take his eyes off of you.
Your movements get even faster as you lean down to capture his lips with yours. It’s so sloppy and spit filled, making you clench around him. He gasps into the kiss before his hands are moving down to grab at the soft flesh of your ass.
He begins snapping his hips up to meet your movements, making him hit that spot so perfectly.
“Oh my god…right there.” You moan as your face falls in between his neck and jaw.
You begin to whimper as your unexpected orgasm washes over your body. Eddie doesn’t quite know what’s happening but he physically cannot hold on any longer.
“Oh shit, shit- I’m gonna cum.” His head falls back into his stain filled pillow, he bites his lip so hard he’s almost positive he’s breaking skin, before a groan so deep it almost scares him, leaves his mouth. He wonders if he should feel embarrassed but the proud look in your eyes tells him otherwise.
He didn’t even get a chance to ask you where he could cum, he just filled you up without even thinking. That thought made his dick twitch even though it was beginning to soften.
“You did so good, baby.” You coo before allowing him to slowly slide out of you.
Some of his cum falls out of you and onto his spent cock, making his cheeks redden in what you could only assume is embarrassment.
“It’s okay, I’m doing this new trial of this birth control pill that just came out. It's supposed to lessen cramps during that time of the month but it also helps to prevent pregnancy… so we should be good.” You say before giving him a peck on his bruised lips.
You make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up before bringing a wet washcloth to clean Eddie, too.
His hips jerk when the rag touches him, making you giggle as he tries and fails to hide his bashful face from you.
You find it so cute how shy he’s being. You’ve never seen shy Eddie before, so this is a nice contrast.
He scoots over, making room for you to lay next to him, which you do after setting the cum filled rag on his night stand to be disposed of later.
“You’re fucking incredible, did you know that?” He asks before scooping you up in his arms and moving you closer to him. His arms wrap around your waist as his head burrows into your chest.
“Are you sure you're okay, Eddie?” You softly ask, not sure you want to breach the topic after you two have finally consummated your relationship.
“Of course I’m okay, why do you ask?” He looks up at you curiously, as if he’s surprised you’ve been able to read him so well. Although you always have been good at that.
“You just seem…different.” You whisper the last part before you feel him slightly tense.
“I’m-I just seen some shit, ya know? And it’s kind of hard to go back to your everyday life after witnessing some of the most horrific shit imaginable.” He can’t look you in your eyes when he speaks, he doesn’t want to see the pity that so often lies beneath the sympathy people have recently given him.
“I get that baby, I do…and I’m here, every step of the way, okay? Whatever you need, we'll do it.” You purr as your nails gently graze his back.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper into his hair before you’re both falling into a post sex sleep haze.
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October 1977
“Eddie, slow down.” You snort as your boyfriend eagerly speeds down Cherry lane, too excited to get to his mystery destination.
“Where are you taking me?” You ask, studying his face for any clues.
“You’ll see, just have some patience, baby.” He knowingly smirks, amused by your uncertainty.
Soon enough, you're pulling up to a light yellow single story house. It’s quite cute, with pink trim on the windows and flower boxes that sit on each window seal.
The grass looks like it’s been very taken care of, it’s almost too green.
Eddie flies to your side, opening your door for you.
You hesitantly step out, your black flats crunching on the orange and brown leaf riddled sidewalk. You’re still wondering where the hell he’s taking you or to who?
“Do you like it?” He asks with a beaming smile as his hand runs through his freshly grown out mane.
“I mean yeah… it’s nice.” You scoff, “who lives here?” You study the house again before looking over to Eddie for an answer.
“We do, sweetheart.” He gleams as he dangles a set of keys in his right hand, a huge satisfied smile adorns his face at your shocked expression.
“This is ours?” You blink at him as if maybe you’ve misunderstood. “Like, you bought it?” Eddie’s face just gets more and more excited with every fleeting moment you stand there in shock.
“Yes, we bought it.” He laughs before throwing the keys towards you. “Go check it out, baby.” You quickly catch the keys and make your way inside, body moving on autopilot as you’re still in shock.
As you look around you notice it’s a charming 1960’s styled, three bedroom house.
You stand in the doorway of the smallest room.
‘It’s perfect’ you whisper to yourself.
“That’ll be the nursery for babygirl.” Eddie says, sauntering up behind you to rub at your growing belly. “Do you like it?” He asks with a proud smile.
“I love it Ed’s, you did so good.” You fervidly muse.
“Let’s check out the backyard, I have another surprise for you out there.” He says before intertwining his fingers with yours and walking you through the house to the beautiful twin doors that lead you to an even more beautiful backyard.
Your eyes take in everything as you stand on the deck, this place is almost too perfect. You’re ready to pinch yourself cause you’re so sure you’re dreaming.
You look around and see a vegetable garden, next to that are gorgeous flower bushes. Whoever lived here before really loved this place as it was treated with the utmost care.
Your eyes continue to scan the yard before it catches on something that causes your eyes to water and your breath to hitch, it’s a big oak tree identical to the one you and Eddie met under.
But that’s not all, Eddie is underneath it on one knee, with a red box in his hand. The tears fall as you walk closer. Yes, this has to be a dream, there is no way this is my life, it’s too perfect.
Once you’re standing in front of your weeping future husband, you realize the ring he’s holding was your gram’s, a beautiful vintage opal.
You remember holding her hand as a kid and playing with it. You’d tell her how much you wanted one just like it, so you could be twins. You sob into your hand at the memory.
“Will you marry me, sweetheart?”
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Steve is pretty good at dealing with pain. Burns, scrapes, bites, bruises, he will just grit his teeth and get through it. It's almost like the more it hurts, the less he has to think about everything. But when he starts losing his hearing, there's no pain, nothing to shield him from his thoughts.
He's terrified. He already feels isolated, singled out in their small group, and of course he's concerned about not being able to respond, to live his life as he knew it, but what eventually breaks him is the smallest thing, the most insignificant, mundane thing.
He and Robin are sorting books in the Family Video and they have this unspoken ritual - whenever there is a theme song in the movie they're watching, Robin will hum it for the rest of the day, with exaggerated movements, directing the orchestra and everything. And Steve watches her one day and realizes - he will lose this. He will never hear Robin's voice again, her slightly husky and over the top renditions of whatever unlucky movie happens to play. He can't help it, his breathing becomes heavy and shaky and before he knows it, Robin is embracing him and he's trying to explain how scared he is, how he feels like his life is basically over, how he'll miss her silliness and they won't be able to talk on the phone when she leaves for college, he can't ever hear her hum anymore...
After an emotional evening and a pizza night with their favorite sitcom - with subtitles! - on, they go to work again, but Robin excuses herself for a bit, runs into the nearby store. When she comes back, she has a large sketchbook in her hand and a black marker. She starts scribbling along to the very faded melody that Steve is registering from the TV and when she hands her final work to him, he laughs and maybe cries a little. Maybe more than little.
What Robin drew for him looks like a mountain range. She created an axis for time and an axis for the "MUSICAL DRRRRAMA", indicating how intense the music is in each moment. And all of the intensity is annotated, not a single soud described, but rather how Steve and Robin still see their world, in all its silliness. "This part is mega sharp, reminds me of wanting to stab Tommy Hagan with a knitting needle", it says next to one peak. "Remember that really soggy and stale cookie we ate at your place because we were hungry? That's what it feels like" and "it's sooooo looooong and boooooring it's like Mrs. Click's class" and "the violin here is crispy. SPICY. Like the Chinese food we had last Thursday, it kind of never wants to stop burning".
It's then that Steve knows that he will be okay. There won't be phone calls, but there will be letters, so many letters with silly descriptions and drawings, nagging to practice his ASL and visits to check if he really did his homework. Robin will be better than him at it, of course she will, but even when they'll both be able to sign fluently, she will still hand him a new melody scribble now and then.
On Steve's first birthday without sound, she gives him a huge binder labelled "For my only schmuck: Steve's album". In it are tens of scribbles, all of the melodies they hummed together in the Family Video with fresh descriptions and inside jokes. And when she stands in front of all their friends, hands raised up like a conductor and under her guidance, the whole group signs "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STEVE", he realizes that sounds might have been overrated, because there were no words to describe this kind of love.
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merakiui · 2 months
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time loop angst where floyd is destined to live the same day over and over with you, and he can't understand why that is. it's such an unremarkable day, too. just the two of you living life. it was fun the first few times, but now he's lost count of how many days have been lived in repetition and it's so boring. the only thing that makes it bearable is his little shrimpy. he's happy you're here with him, stuck in this insufferable time loop, otherwise he's sure he'd have gone insane from the repetition.
it isn't until floyd realizes that, outside of the loop, you're gone. you've been gone for years, and you're never coming back.
suddenly, the happy days aren't so pleasant. suddenly, he's forced to confront the very thing he's been avoiding.
the loop will end once floyd finally accepts it and moves on, intending to heal. he's been so stuck in his own head, unable to let go of the ghost of you, that he's put himself in this loop.
the worst part of it is that you don't know anything. the shrimpy he wakes up to every morning is so very tangible. you smile, you kiss him, you hug him. your heart is beating in your chest. you're breathing, alive in his arms like everything's okay.
floyd knows it's not right to stay in the loop, even though he desperately wants to. it'll only hurt him more, but goodness does it feel wonderful to embrace you after years apart. half of him doesn't want to move on. it's difficult to get out of bed when he's grieving. it's difficult to find the motivation to breathe and eat and do everything that often came normal to him before your passing. he has to try.
even when he feels stagnant, crushed and heartbroken, the world is always continuing in its usual current.
he has to try. it's all he can do. move forward and try even when it's a challenge.
the next time floyd wakes his bed is empty. he sits up in a dark room, the curtains closed to block out the sun. someone's been ringing his doorbell for what's felt like hours. he peers around the room. you're not here.
the loops's been broken.
floyd drags himself out of bed. the floor is covered in clutter: trash and dirty laundry and crumbs. he should clean that. you used to gently nag him when things got too messy, and he'd always listen. he's not sure how many days or weeks or months he's lived in the same t-shirt and sweatpants, so it's refreshing when he finally strips them off and showers. he doesn't think much. he moves on autopilot. the water feels nice.
the doorbell keeps ringing. floyd, simmering in his irritation, throws it open, ready to deliver a hard punch to whoever's stupid enough to stick around and bother him on this unremarkable monday morning.
jade stands on the other side of the door, holding a bag from the local bakery and a container of what looks to be homemade takoyaki. azul is just a few inches behind, fidgeting awkwardly on his feet. he's clutching a bouquet. it's a happy one, unlike the many mourning arrangements that were sent by friends and family in the wake of your passing.
floyd blinks at them, confused. "what's up?"
they stare back, owlish. azul clears his throat. "you... you're doing all right?" his tone is careful, treading lightly.
"you haven't been answering your phone," jade adds gently, cluing him in on one of the reasons for their concern and, thus, their arrival.
"oh. yeah, my bad. s'not charged. kinda forgot to keep up with it." floyd cards his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. "didn't feel like talkin' to anyone, so i didn't want anyone callin'."
"would it be okay if we step in? we've brought your favorites."
floyd glances into his apartment for a minute and then back at jade and azul. he steps aside, shrugging. "be my guest."
he's going to try. for your sake. for jade's sake. for azul's sake. for his mother and father's sake. for his own sake.
he's going to try. one day at a time.
sitting at the table, eating takoyaki and chatting about simple, mundane things, floyd feels peace for the first time in years.
he's going to try. one day at a time.
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harrysonlylover · 9 months
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The Joker And The Queen
In which Harry is a florist, has a crush on the baker next door and dreads his Birthday.
Trope: Florist!H
Wc: 3.2k
A/n: This has been in my drafts since Feb, so why not..
Main Masterlist
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Feb 1, a year earlier
The chime of the bell alerted Harry of a visitor, prompting him to spare a glance and shift his focus from the Lavender Bouquet he’s preparing. Its odor was enough to wake ‘Tom’, the street’s lazy orange cat and stand at the front of the shop inspecting the source of the smell, delicately detecting it with his nose.
The foreign tourist moved around admiring all the displayed plants from orchids to sunflowers, Jasmines and cactus, gypsophilia in all their mighty colors standing tall and proud itching for a bride to hold them. Small pots of Rubber fig, Snake plant and Succulent lay side by side near the sun in an order almost fit for a theater play, he placed them this way on purpose to give them love from the yellow shiny star and the buyers who are only ever interested in flowers.
He finished wrapping up the Bouquet with a pink bow tie and admired his work for a minute before snapping a picture of it with his polaroid camera and hanging it on the wall next to the other beauties.
The tourist got distracted with ‘Tom’ and their child who threw a rampage upon seeing the floof ball, eventually they both left as the cat strolled toward Harry rubbing up against his leg, sniffing the oh wonderful smell of Lavender he caught earlier.
“It’s okay maybe they’ve had a bad experience with cats.” He told the cute pet who seemed to not care as he yawned and stretched his paws before sliding in an empty pot to resume his nap.
Harry puckered his lips feeling like an idiot for conversing with a cat. Who spends their birthday selling flowers and comforting an animal. Is that miserable? It has to be the dream life in someone’s world.
What are Birthdays for anyway? He thought as he swept the floor from the fallen leaves and petals.
He ages everyday and every hour, with the marks of adulthood lingering around every corner, whether it be the loneliness he experiences, or watching little kids pick flowers for each other as he gets hit by a whiff of nostalgia.
Every waking day is a reminder that he’s not the little boy from Holmes Chapel anymore, he can’t for the love of god remember his hometown. It resides somewhere in his mind deep down, perhaps he can recall its plants, that would be much easier.
He never realized how far and lost he was in the adult world until he remembered his old life, mundane hobbies he maintained that were his entire focus. Now he wouldn’t even recall doing them.
His memory drifts away to his 10th birthday, his mom organized a small party in their apartment, where he only invited 3 friends (more like his only friends). That day is his favorite memory, the taste of the chocolate vanilla cake on his tongue as he goofed and danced around, then chased his friends with the Spiderman toy his mom got him.
Funny how things change he thought, he can go out now and buy himself that very same toy but he won’t get his 10th birthday back. He envies people who wait excitedly for their birthday and plan the entire day feeling joyous about saying goodbye to another year of their life.
He isn’t pessimistic really, not at all, he just finds it hard sometimes to delight in the same things as ordinary people.
Tom began snoring in the pot and Harry rubbed his head before watering the thirsty plants. The sun today is stretching along the coast with bluebirds roaming around town, announcing a wake-up call to all living things to witness this glorious day.
At least he loves the fact that his Birthday is a gift from nature, there’s this breeze that feels like summer and spring had an affair, it penetrates his nostrils combined with the fresh odor of flowers that he picks himself every other week. A gentle embrace of the sun is always present and he can’t help but stand at the front of his shop and bask his face in it.
For a moment or two the weather held his hand and showed him places he’d never been to before, quietly taking in the sound of by passers lightly smiling from sonder.
The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled him away from his daydream. He opened his eyes and balanced himself on the door having not been prepared for such a sight.
She stood in front of him wearing denim salopettes matched with a floral tee with her hair braided and tied using a pink bow (just like the one he uses for his flowers)
His body went numb for a few seconds saving in her broad smile at the front of his brain (he’ll replay the scene later on)
Her dimple got wider as she looked into his forest eyes struck by the sun, a tiny furrow appeared near his eyebrows but got overshadowed by his chocolate mop of curls.
“H—hi” he uttered shyly like a schoolboy swiftly moving the curls from his face, he can’t be daydreaming because his crush is quite literally in front of him.
“May I come in?” she asked with another one of her smiles that he melts for, he immediately moved inviting her inside his green haven, as he almost stumbled on his face due to a pot having been distracted with gazing at her.
He grew to know her as the lovely baker with the shop facing him, he even developed a sweet tooth because of his tendencies to drop by every other day for something she bakes.
“So how’s your day so far?” she questioned as she scratched Tom’s chin.
“Hmm pretty average I guess.” He placed his hands in his pockets awkwardly as he suddenly forgot how to act normally.
“Oh no, an average day for the birthday boy?” She exclaimed with a gasp, turning her attention to Harry’s face that turned tomato red.
His girl crush remembering his birthday was the last thing he expected. Usually she’d come in for fresh bouquets she purchases for her bakery. It was either Sunflowers, Hyacinth or Tulips.
Harry had a thing for solitude. Don’t get him wrong, selling flowers to people is somehow satisfying, but considering he is a stranger to the locals in this small Swiss town, he isn’t much of a talker. He likes to have his daily cup of tea in the morning, take a walk in the field located near his house, visit his friend’s place and then there’s her.
He never even had a sweet tooth, but after his unexpected craving for muffin one night (later on he’ll realize that it was just homesickness) , he found himself putting on his shoes and roaming the cobble streets of the town for shops that are still open.
Even though her shop was closed for customers, she opened the door when she saw a lost face outside, with a warm aura and not a good choice of words.
“Do you perhaps have a leftover muffin?” His words caused her crooked teeth appear with a smile that made him forget about any pastry in the world.
Ever since then he’d come up with any excuse to pass by and have a muffin to go, a cupcake, maybe coffee or even that delicious baguette that he can’t have breakfast without. It doesn't matter what he picks up as long as he sees her.
Harry gets pulled back to the present with her smile that somehow has the ability to help him to think straight. He still hasn’t processed the fact that she knows his birthday date.
“I—uh how do you know it’s my birthday?”. An obvious blush creeps up his cheeks as he bites his bottom lip and hides his hands in his pockets to conceal the excited fidgeting.
“Remember when you forgot your wallet at my shop? Your ID slipped out and I swear I wasn’t snooping, it really did. My eyes landed on the date.” She explained with caution adamant to clarify that she isn’t a creep.
One thing about her is that she loves making eye contact, and he could barely survive her smile, let alone her coffee irises.
“I hope I didn’t overstep-“
“No! not at all. Thank you for remembering.” Only if he knew that she’s been counting down the days and marking the calendar to reach February.
The tension could be cut with her baking knife, and the best thing he could think of doing is scrambling to anxiously rummage the drawers in the shop, for the flower crown he made her.
It was crafted using dried tulips, jasmines, poppies and carnations with a hint of pink gypsophilia. It was anything but easy to make, but she doesn’t have to know that.
He showed it to her with an eager dimpled smile, and when her words got stuck in her throat, his hand shakily placed it on her head then fixed the loose strands of her messy hair.
“I thought I was the one supposed to get you a gift.” Her eyes shifted to the ground with an echoing laughter as his eyes raked her crowned head with admiration.
“I’ve been meaning to give it to you anyways.” He scratched his neck awkwardly , and stretched his beige cardigan up to his palms, feeling the country air swift inside his store and caress both of their bodies.
Even though no one is looking, not even the by passers who are enamored with the flowers, they are very much exposed to the orange cat who is judging their ability to communicate and maybe finally kiss?
“Thank you H, really.” Her whisper was barely heard but he was busy repeating his nickname she created in his head.
H.
He never really had a nickname, everyone called him Harry, just Harry. She always made the most mundane things appear as the most beautiful. Who would’ve thought his initial would sound so good?
“I made you something.. a huge cinnamon roll plate, just for you.” She poked his dimple loving how excited the news made him.
“With honey?!”
“Yes! The way you like it.” Tom was now standing between them, taking too much interest in the stubborn pair of idiots.
The last time someone had thought of him, and decided to give him something on his birthday as small as a cupcake was on his 18th birthday, when his mom cried and promised to always make him cupcakes on his day, even if he was leaving to another country.
The butterflies in his stomach, fluttered up to his heart, passing by his lungs and knocking the air out of them as he stared at the crowned girl in front of him with hearts popping out of his eyes.
Idiots in love, Tom thinks.
She finally broke the silence and leaned forward to his face pressing a long warm kiss to his cheeks. “Pass by at 11 for your gift. Happy Birthday H.”
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Feb 1, a year later
He’s laying on his stomach, his arms spread with soft puffs of air leaving his slightly parted raspberry lips. His skin is bare of clothing, it has always been his preference even if it gets cold.
The white sheets reek of gardenia detergent that is outpowered by the various number of bouquets distributed around the room and on the balcony. The curtains are swiftly dancing with the wind allowing the yellow star to sneak in and cascade a shade along his soft skin and lighten his chestnut curls.
Tom is lazily stretching on the carpet as he will continue to do so all day, but in a different room after he terrorizes the house in search for extra food and love.
The girl enters the bedroom with a tray in her hands, her steps are calculated to avoid waking her lover as her silk robe hugs her naked body. She’s been up since dawn to prepare the dough, it’s a secret recipe passed by through generations. Simply let the poor dough rest. But it wasn’t just that, she also had to pour her love in it, mend it well with her fingers and drizzle the honey on top that she harvested herself.
She leaves the tray aside knowing that Tom will not approach it as he recognizes the sweet scent and is aware that it is not for him, which he expresses by turning his rear side to his parents.
She climbs on their shared bed as softly as she can, admiring her sleepy boy who must be dreaming about cinnamon rolls. The blue duvet is slowly peeled off his body as she gently starts leaving kisses on his back. Although it’s usually him who does that, this time she’s one step forward ahead of him with honey drizzled on her lips that leaves its marks with every kiss.
He's a heavy sleeper but his nervous system is accustomed to her touch and kisses , so it is no wonder when he wakes up a few moments after her lips meet his body as the honey sticks.
“Happy Birthday honey.” She whispers against his neck, causing a huge grin to immediately form on his face. He doesn’t care if he’s barely awake or is trying to register his surroundings. She’s here, next to him and she’s wishing him a happy birthday.
“It’s the first of February?” He asks as he shifts on his back and pulls her body against him. He had a habit of not looking at the calendar or remembering the days unless it was her birthday which he will instinctually know, or if she has an important event.
Another small secret is that his disinterest in calendars or the names the of days only began after he met her as it wouldn’t matter what day it is, since he got to see her every day. It intensified when she became his lover.
Was it Monday? No maybe Wednesday? Why should he care anyway? It will begin with her and end with her. The love will radiate for days , months even years. So whether it be the 20th century or the 21st it won’t matter, she’s right next to him in this moment. Time has become irrelevant.
“Yes Birthday boy, I made you something..” Her face hovered over his, as his eyes adoringly shifted to the honey coating her lips. He pulled her in closer till their atoms touched as he began kissing over neck and face.
The honey trick. It was his really, but he didn’t mind her doing it. As an avid fan of honey, he had lots of jars in his house and much to his surprise, she liked bees and would occasionally participate in harvesting, but oh of course she would!
She’s his other half.
He began using honey to get her to be close to him at all times, by smearing it on his lips or fingers then touching her. It didn’t make her mad, she was covered in his love. What’s not to like?
When she asked him why he does it he simply said: “I want you to be sticking to me and honey is my ally.”
Tom interrupted their moment of love by expressing his disgust with meowing. According to him, the two idiots would have always found their way to each other, but that’s cat intel that he can’t share with the readers.
“So what do you want to do today.” She finally managed to speak after he took his time with the morning kisses along with ‘sticking’ himself to her lips.
“Spend it with you.” He replied without hesitation.
“You spend everyday with me.”
“Then spend it with you outdoors.” He shrugged before swiping his finger above her lip, catching leftover honey and licking it.
“Well the shop is closed today, maybe we could have a picnic in the field and I—“She stopped midsentence upon the feeling of something poking her thighs.
“H.. did you just get a boner.” She raised her eyebrows and delicately moved her fingers along his hips to rile him up.
“It’s a love boner!” He defends himself the best he can.
“I see.. maybe we should do something about it then..” His eyes gleam like a puppy waiting for his treat. He immediately surrenders his body to her, just like he always does while she pulls the duvet above them and they both sink in their love bubble.
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The shower is on.
She’s in there washing what their love caused, along with the sticky honey all over her body. Harry is still in bed, breathing in and out of his lungs trying not to get suffocated from his love for her.
He loves being under the water with her and lathering honey soap all over each other, which is why he has to do this quickly.
His feet pad across the floor as he looks in his drawer for the mini leather notebook. He can hear the water hitting the tiles and her humming in the background which motivates him to get this done.
He opens the notebook and looks at where he left off and opens a new page instead as he picks up his favorite writing pen.
‘February 1st 2023
Did I ever mention that she was the one to start it that night? Our relationship. I was too busy admiring and she was too busy planning, another reason why we fit like Lego pieces. I don’t make confessions that often, maybe to her every now and then but I must admit that I like my birthday now. It didn’t faze me before, it meant nothing but now it makes me look up to all the upcoming birthdays I get to spend with her. I don’t know how the poets do it… being able to describe love and all that stuff. If they were actually in love, then they’d know that it leaves you speechless with nothing to say or do. I worry that I do not say enough to her, but she then assures me that silence is our thing in her own way. That night when she kissed me, then invited me to her shop at night, helped me realize that I want her and need her. No, she did not ask me on a date, I did but if not for her simple gesture I would’ve been miserable for eternity. Once you get a taste of what’s sweet, you’ll never abandon it. That’s how I feel about her. Now, maybe the story of how everything progressed is for another time or even how we adopted ungrateful Tom, but for now she’s waiting.”
He places the notebook back in the drawer and throws the pen in there before his feet guide him to the wide bathroom, where her voice could be heard humming. He wondered if the bluebirds visit them because of her.
He fetches towels for them from the closet not forgetting to take a bite from the cinnamon roll that’s neglected on the tray.
He pops his head inside and calls her with her designated nickname.
“Honeyyyyy…?”
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Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @swiftmendeshoran @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @strwbrrydaydreams @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie
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koostarcandy · 1 year
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quiet love
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summary: a night where jungkook's actions speak louder than his words.
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: fluff <3!
a/n: i was going thru reels and struck inspo :] hope you like this :)) koo calls oc squishy here hope its okay ^^ this is sliiiiiightly(?) personal :] oktybyeeeee mwah ily and happy holidays (sorry im late)!!!
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"eat more, baby, i saw you skip dessert at the buffet. the cheesecake is all for you, promise."
your heart is practically melting, despite the freezing weather outside. your chest clenches slightly when jungkook remembers the tiniest of details when it comes to you, for instance, the buffet. being the holiday season, you've been nomming away (how jungkook describes it) at any christmas-themed food you see. naturally, you were growing sick and tired of sweet stuff, choosing to try out savoury things you usually never try out at the buffet you both usually go together for christmas lunches. on the way back, jungkook noticed your mood sliding down like snow going down a steep roof. he abruptly stopped at a bakery, promising to be back in 5 minutes.
now, your eyes have that sparkle when you have your favourite sweet things, much to jungkook's relief. you can get pretty moody when you don't have your dessert, which he learnt the hard way.
you glance at jungkook's focused eyes on the road, hand on the steering wheel and tattooed one holding your gloved one, absentmindedly thumbing your hand. you carefully give him a bite of the cheesecake, which he took happily. you let boney m fill the quiet and comforting atmosphere, spotting the familiar buildings which lead up to your shared penthouse.
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actions speak louder than words and you never thought you'd be able to live through the saying.
like right now, where you admitted to forgetting to stock up on milk and apologized profusely, knowing jungkook was looking forward to making the viral hot chocolate going around. he held your neck and pulled you in for a long kiss, pulling back to peck your forehead, saying he'd go and get the milk and marshmallows, telling you to pull up the grinch and the cookies he got from the bakery awhile back. you weakly protested, saying it was way too cold and dark out and that you could always try out the drink another day. he pulled on his puffy jacket and beanie, vehemently declaring he'd make christmas night better by going out now.
he was always the first to run out if an essential grocery item was out in your pantry, almost never letting you go with him because he preferred you staying within the warm and safe walls of your shared abode. he always lets you lean on him, even when doing the most mundane of tasks. jungkook's carefully stirring the hot pot of dark brown and warm chocolate, arm around your waist while you read the instructions. you lean back on him, sighing at the confusingly tedious task of making a cup of hot choco.
his arm slides up and goes around your shoulders, pulling you closer and leaving an array of kisses on the side of your neck, his silent way of telling you how much he loves this evening with you. he pours the warm liquid into your favourite mug, looking at you while you take the first sip.
"oh, it's so good, koo! not too sweet but not too bitter, it's amazing. here, have a sip, baby." you hold the mug between both your hands, positioning it right infront of his lips so he'd have easy access.
"thanks, squishy but i'd rather take it from here," he gently puts the mug away, cupping your face in his warm hands and kissing you sweetly. "tastes perfect to me," he mumbles, leaning his forehead against yours and wrapping his arms around you.
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"squish, i swear, the movie is great, my eyelids are just abit heavy right now."
you chuckle amusedly at jungkook's attempt to stay awake through home alone 3, his tight hold around you getting looser when he nods off. "come on, off to bed," you decide, slipping out of the burrito you were wrapped in when you said it was abit chill. it's 1.35 am now and sleep's slow yet steady hold on you is visible on both of your faces, laughing when you yawn together. jungkook's the first to get up, pulling you up effortlessly and letting you lead the way to bed.
you're the first to fall face first into your pillow, wordlessly patting the pillow next to you. you can feel the mattress dip, the covers being pulled over you and the lights are off. you shift so you can see jungkook's face, doe eyes looking straight back at yours. you thumb his cheeks, poking the dimple which peeks through. a tender kiss is placed on your forehead, followed by hands making sure you're in the warm confines of the blanket and get no hint of the cold winds outside.
jungkook maybe a man of many words, cheesy and loving but his actions will always speak louder for him.
he complains of keeping track of important days but you'll find a random strawberry cheesecake on your desk, a handwritten note celebrating 25 months of the first time you both took a trip overseas.
he's proud of you being confident in yourself, always full of compliments when you show up in the latest outfit for your night out. he ends up zipping you up in his leather jacket when he picks you up at 2.30 from the club, softly telling you that he'd rather take you home quietly than make a scene with the weird creeps looking at you from down the street.
he holds you close when the weight on your shoulders become heavier, knowing soft words cannot calm the raging storm in your mind. instead, he listens. he has you lean back on the couch while he massages your legs, his doting attention always on you.
sometimes, he has you accompany him in his late night gaming sessions, hugging his arm and finishing off his abandoned snacks. he fake winces in pain when you impulsively bite his bicep, saying it's his fault for wearing sleeveless tees around the house. he apologizes insincerely, tossing away his controller so he could get his revenge back by tickling you. it always ends up with him snuggling upto you, your adoring hands leading him to sleep.
just like how it is right now.
you cuddle up to him, rubbing his back with your hand while he simply puts his head on your chest, looking up at you to make sure you're comfy. you boop his nose and smile, eyes closing in content with your tender and warm lover.
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pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin ; @yoogijk
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silv3rswirls · 4 months
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this feeling
Summary | How could he go on? how could you do this to him? You can't leave him now, he'll make sure of it.
Warnings | explicit blood/gore, death, grief, cannibalism in the name of love and grief
Note | just a little something to get started writing again. granted this is pretty different from my other sweet home wips <3 thinking I'll start working on the Myeong request someone sent it next
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sweet home wips + masterlist
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This feeling? It was new, wasn’t it?
He had run back to your room the moment the monster disappeared. He had fallen to his knees so hard he thought he’d broken every bone in them. How? His lip quivered, how could this happen when he was supposed to be the one protecting you?
You had made it this far, even without him stalking behind you, you had proven time and again that you wanted to live. That you deserved to live. Now what? You were dead now because he wasn’t able to keep you safe from just two monsters? Two stupid little monsters- pathetic little beasts that seemed so mundane. Too easy to deal with compared to everything else. 
Why was there so much blood? Hyunsu tried to stand, but couldn’t. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe he was just upset to do anything by crawling with shaking hands toward your body. “Hey,” He called out quietly, “you’re still there, right? Say something.” His hands slipped in blood, his pants soaked as he settled beside you. “You’re still breathing,” he says in a desperate matter of face tone. How could you be gone completely? You still had to say goodbye, tell him that he did his best and that it was okay. You’d be better off, that he had to go on for you and every other predictable line.
He kneeled there, stomach in knots. Sick to his stomach, your dull eyes unfocused and staring away from him. Carefully he caressed your face, turning you to him and dragging his thumb over your cheek. He closed your eyes, brushing his fingers over your face. He was glad at least, that your face wasn’t split and bleeding like the rest of you was. He could take in your features, though not as bright as before.
He wet his lips nervously, what should he do? He bent down, hesitant at first, but sipping low enough to press his lips to yours one last time. What a shame the two of you had only gotten to kiss once. It had been a small, shy peck a few nights ago. “This isn’t fair” he muttered, whimpering as he thought about what to do next. He kissed you again, and again, more feverish each time. Just wake up one more time, let him love you how he should’ve. Let him cast his weariness aside and grip your skin with love and no fear.
He exhaled, running his hands over his pants and looking around again. Something was happening inside him. A swirling, spiraling feeling was poking his mind. Why was he feeling this way? Why was the horror of your body dulling in his eyes? Why was drool pooling in his mouth; why was he leaning down to drag his tongue over the gash in your arm? 
He shook his head, laughing at himself for a moment. Seriously? Now? Why was that thing inside his head talking to him? Saying nothing but everything at the same time. No words, just a feeling. A desire.
This feeling; had it always been in him?
This feeling, twisting and festering inside his stomach like parasites.
His eyes traced down to your stomach. There was a large tear in your skin, blood was still running slowly from him. He wondered if it had been that one, or the one in your chest. He moves down, he can’t help it. He takes a bite. Just one.
Then another, and another, until he couldn’t stop himself,
Its tenderness, its shellfish. It's good, it's feeding the thing inside of him. It's feeding the hole in his chest. He was blinded by desire, his fingers twisted inside you. Pulling you apart with care. He’s blind, his eyes are black, he’s lost but painfully aware. He felt disgusting, but what else was he supposed to do? You weren’t supposed to leave him. He was alone now, because of you. Nothing is going to let you get away. Not the blood, not the tearing of skin, or the labored breaths between crying and gnawing. He loved you so much, it was consuming him. The grief was devouring him, blinding him, pushing him to this. He wanted you, to be close now that you were gone. Why hadn’t be been able to before you were gone? Why couldn’t he of conquered his fears, why hadn’t this feeling come sooner? 
It's not enough. The taste just makes him hungrier. He needed more, his skin pressed to yours. His mouth was full, the lingering scent of you staining his being.
He looked at you one more time. How his teeth had shredded you so easily, the sensation of flesh sliding down his throat. The sight of blood sweeping away. Your blood; he had to lick up your blood. You had to say with him. This was love, this was how he would love you. Sitting there, kneeling in desperation. Worshiping the spot your body had fallen.
Blood poured from his lips, his skin stained as it dripped onto his clothes and the floor. His jaw was lax, chest heaving again as he tried to steady his breathing.  To love is to consume, but to consume is to devour and change. Did he want to change? Did he want you to change? Could anyone change any more?  It's gentle and tender, the way he licked the blood from your skin and covered you with his jacket. 
Breathlessly he lay there, looking over your body, to your face. “I’m sorry” he whimpered, “I’m sorry I hurt you more, I just couldn’t…I needed…” He couldn’t finish the thought.
He was hungry still. It's insatiable. Would it ever end?
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lactoseintolerentswag · 6 months
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Rise Characterizations Pt. 6!!!!!!
After the turtles and Splinter, here we have the girl Ever. She's pretty spunky, I had fun analyzing her for writing.
April O'Neil Character Notes
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Language Habits:
Uses bae/aave, something she could have passed on down to Raph and Mikey as they also use bae/aave
Most notably uses "mm-kay" in place of "okay"
Uses a lot of filler language, interjections, or onomatopoeia. Think "mhm", "uh huh, uh huh!", "oh yeah!"
"Ah nuts" is her go-to disappointed phrase
Grits and or strains her teeth when she's frustrated
Uses her own name (the full "April O'Neil!!!!") as a battle cry, or brings her name as a motivator i.e. "the one and only April O'Neil will solve this case!"
The more worked up she the louder she tends to be, this extends to stronger emotions such as passion or panic
Over text uses emoticons
Refers to splinter as "splints"
Refers to the turtles as "the fam"
Refers to villains/antagonists through insults rather than their names
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Personality:
Adrenaline junkie, as she's often the first to jump into a fight. She also laughs in the face of danger, and was seen maniacally laughing and smiling the entirety of the gumbus episode
Jack of all trades. April has a lot of skills she's picked up from various jobs or personal adventures she's seeked out (like canoeing through the sewers in a hazmat suit and earning a crane license)
Wild and blunt. April is Loud, and rarely ever afraid to share her opinion. This can either make people draw back from her bluntness or be drawn in by her excitableness
Self-conscious. Despite her strong sense of self-esteem, April is still often motivated to impress the popular kids at school or at least fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as the weird kid, or associated with the weird kids
Persistent. April is always quick on her feet to hit back whatever comes at her. She has a good set of problem-solving skills that she's gained from all the skills she's picked up
Loyal. She's always willing to back up the turtles, and goes out of her way to keep Splinter happy with her company. Once she finds a friend it's hard to pry her away
Unlucky. Mostly in absurd or mundane ways. She has that whole curse with her birthday, but things don't often tend to go right for April O'Neil, which contributes to the disasters that cause her to get fired all the time
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Miscellaneous:
Code-named "yellow submarine" by raph
Tends to have information on wifi passwords, secret exists, and access to keys from all the jobs she's been hired and fired from
Has a preference for blunt objects as weapons (most commonly bats, clubs, pipes)
Uses the environment in a fight in general
She's been part of the "warren stone fanclub" since 2010, and keeps all her ids in her wallet
Likes unicorns and cats (as seen through her brief texts with sunita and her pajamas)
Loves laser tag
Can beat Donnie at video games (if he didn't use cheat codes)
"sherlock_corn" is her handle online
Lives in an apartment/flat with her mom (showed onscreen briefly), that has its own bathroom
Has a subtly mentioned interest in fantasy, as noted by Donnie she tends to download fantasy rpgs and freaks out over cosplay wizards
Just an end note to all of you who aren't black, some offensive tropes I would stray from is making April the angry black girl. This is one of the most common stereotypes of black women in media. I wouldn't mistake April's passion or loudness for aggression. It would be a disservice to dilute her lively character into familiar but ultimately harmful tropes in media.
I am in no way saying you cannot portray April as angry, this is a powerful emotion and it should be explored with black characters, but I am saying that should not be the base of her character. Because well that's not even April's base. She's centered around fun and thrill-seeking.
Wikipedia (yes I know, But they have proven to be more dependable these past years) has a good article on the angry black woman stereotype, so that would a good place to start research on what to Avoid. In my splinter post I also provided some links on doing research on writing poc.
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Anyway!!! We've ended our analysis trip of the main cast in s1. Next I'm thinking of picking apart our antagonists :]. Gonna take a break to work on my own fic, but stay tuned if you found any of my other posts helpful! It's been a fun ride with you all <3
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headkiss · 6 months
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omg peter and reader taking a walk on some little trail and they push one another into leaf piles and being love sick idiots <3
this is so cute!!! tysm for the request <3 i went the pining best friends route rather than established relationship, hope that’s okay! | 0.6k of fluff!
You and Peter have been friends for what feels like forever. He’s in almost every memory you have, as far back as they go. Your childhood best friend, your now best friend, the only boy you’ve ever loved.
Growing up across the hall from each other had its perks. A mother figure in aunt May, someone to walk to school with, a door that was always open for you.
You’ve spent so much time with him that it’s sort of impossible to imagine things any other way. Not that you’d need to.
Late September has a chill seeping into the city. Leaves changing color, hands hidden in jacket pockets, cheeks and noses bitten by cold wind. Fall surrounds you and you don’t mind one bit. Not when Peter’s beside you, too.
He’d come knocking on your door earlier (even though he doesn’t need to knock, as you’ve told him countless times) and asked you to go for a walk with him. Easy, like breathing or blinking, you’d said yes.
It’s nice to have someone to do these things with, to be mundane and quiet without a trace of awkwardness. All of this comfort and you’ve yet to tell him how you feel, how in love you are.
Peter walks close enough to you that your arms brush with every step, jacket against jacket, warmth seeping into your skin every time. When he walks alone, he’s quicker, strides full, earbuds in. With you, he’s learned to match your pace, to slow himself to stay next to you.
“You cold?” Peter asks, even when he’s the one with his cheeks pink from the breeze.
“Mmm, just my hands.” You tilt your head up to the sky, then towards him. “It’s a nice day.”
And it is. Despite the chill, the sun’s shining, the trail you and Peter are taking tucked away enough from the city that it doesn’t feel like you’re in it. Rustling leaves in the wind, fallen ones littering your path, the smell of fall in the air. Your favorite boy as company.
“Yeah, it is,” he says, eyes catching yours. Then, he reaches for the hand closest to him, his fingers curling around yours, and tucks your joined hands into his coat pocket. “There.”
You feel warmer already, his palm against yours, but you try to play it off. “How’s your pocket any warmer than mine?”
“‘Cause your coat’s a joke. I’ve got fleece-lined pockets, ‘kay? Way warmer, honey.”
“Leave it to you to be a nerd, even about a jacket.”
He shrugs innocently, shoulder to a rosy cheek.
Peter takes any excuse he can to be close to you, to touch you, and he knows what that means. He knows he loves you, and he’s not really hiding it. It sinks into everything he does. Walking closer to the road, letting you have the last sip of your shared milkshakes, going to see the latest horror movie with you when he hates the genre.
As much as Peter wants to tell you, he also wants this to work, to fall into place the way he thinks things will. You’ve had your whole lives with each other so far, and there’s the rest of a lifetime to go.
“Did you just call me a nerd?”
“You heard me, Parker.”
“Well, in that case…”
One second you’d been walking beside him, the next, Peter’s pushed you over into a pile of leaves beside the trail. It’s probably the most gentle push ever, but it’s enough to make you trip over your feet.
“Peter,” you groan, dragging out his name. “At least help me up.”
You hold out your hand, laying on your back, leaves probably stuck to your clothes and in your hair. Peter takes it—of course, he does—and with a tug, you’ve got him laying next to you.
“I always fall for that one,” he says, his hand still in yours, shoulders shaking a little with his laughter.
You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same, your noses an inch apart, twin smiles on your faces.
A lifetime to go, Peter thinks.
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haydenthewitch · 2 months
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The worst thing about having a chronic pain that isn't visible to others is feeling like your whining when you say, "i'm in pain right now."
i don't ever want the pain in my knees to be categorized as the same kind of complaint as "i don't want to go to work" or "its monday." I say "my knees and joints are hurting" every day because 1. my knees and joints do hurt everyday, and it fucking sucks and 2. i want to be heard by the pepole around me saying that i'm in pain so i can never be gaslit by myself, my family, or my doctor that i'm "not in enough pain".
but when i say "i'm in a lot of pain right now" and then continue to live my life (becuse i can't sit around all day, as much as i want to) pepole assume that i'm okay enough, so therfore it's not that bad. "i'm in a lot of pain" becomes just another mundane complaint.
the thing is; my pain tollerance is HIGH. i don't talk about it much on here, But i'm a type one diabetic and i have been that way since i was SIX YEARS OLD. i've been sticking myself with needles, pricking my fingers to draw blood, dealing with insulin and medical supplies since i was six. i know my body better than most 18 year olds do, so when i say that recently i've been a 9 on the 1-10 pain scale evry day for the past couple of months I KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT.
When i say "my joints hurt", i mean that i can FEEL bones grinding and clicking against one another. When i say "i've been sitting for too long and now my hips are fucked" i mean that walking becomes diffucuclt for me and sometimes i have to hobble down the school halways like how my grandmother walks. when i say "my knees are in pain" i mean that it feels like a liquid hot, searing pain in my joints that feels like a poker melting my skin off. WHEN I SAY I'M IN PAIN, IT'S NOT A MUNDANITY, ITS EXCUTRIATING AND I WISH I WOULD BE TAKEN SEROUISLY.
I cant stand for a 10 minute conversation, my knees would buckle. I might need a bench in my shower, becuse for the past few weeks i've been sitting in my shower floor to shampoo and conditon my hair. I can't sit criss-cross anymore or it will fuck up my entire day. I've resorted to taking a bathroom break in every single class every day so i can stand up becuse if i sit for longer than 30 minutes in one of those school desks every joint in my lower back and spine and legs starts screaming at me. i only feel comfortable laying down, fully stretched out, on my back. If i sleep wrong, i'm in pain from the molment i wake up.
ITS NOT A FUCKING COMPLAINT OR EXCUSE WHEN I SAY I'M IN PAIN. ITS MY LIFE.
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