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dwobbitfromtheshire · 4 months

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It's that time again when I clean out my draft folder. Found this. Here's a treat.

Eddie was learning how to play basketball in order to understand the game and in order to understand why Lucas wanted to play so badly. He was learning it from Steve Harrington, the man who pulled him out of hell and who was now his friend. He now knew why everyone liked Steve so much now. He was more than just the popular jock with the good hair and the rich parents. Steve Harrington had the biggest heart of anyone he had ever known, and Eddie was grateful to be able to call him his friend.

Now, here they were in the school gym, getting hot and sweaty as the two of them played. Robin and Vickie were sitting in the bleachers, with popcorn that Robin had insisted on bringing with them. Steve was winning, of course, which was no surprise to anyone, especially Eddie. The man was talented, and all of this workout had left a strange familiar heat in Eddie's stomach that he refused to acknowledge. It grew stronger when Steve pressed himself up against Eddie. He couldn't deny it anymore when Steve displayed a jock move when the game was over and slapped Eddie's ass. Oh God, Eddie wanted him to do it again and he could feel his cock twitch in the ridiculous tiny shorts. He didn't expect what came out of Steve’s mouth. Didn't they say good game?

"Good boy," Steve whispered.

And suddenly, Eddie was letting out a loud, breathy moan that filled the gym. It couldn't possibly be mistaken for anything else. He couldn't deny it anymore. He also liked men, and he was very much attracted to Steve Harrington. With wide eyes, he turned to look at Steve and the others. Robin's mouth had dropped open, causing popcorn to spill out, and Vickie had a hand pressed to her mouth. He couldn't look at Steve, though. He wouldn't. He squeaked and ran towards the locker room, ignoring Steve calling his name. He didn't bother changing, just gathered his clothes and ran straight out of the gym.

"Eddie!" Steve called.

"Bye! Gotta go!" Eddie squeaked out.

When he stormed into their new house, Wayne was just getting home.

"How was the game?" Wayne asked as Eddie brushed by him.

"If anyone asks, I left town!" Eddie shrieked.

He went into his room, slammed the door, and locked it. Eddie crawled into his bed and screamed into his pillow as he clutched his teddy bear. A knock came at his door and he shut his eyes tightly.

"It couldn't have been that bad," Wayne said through the door.

"Believe me, it was!" Eddie yelled. "I kind of just want to take a nap."

"Okay, I'm here if you need me," Wayne said.

Eddie clutched Jelly Bean tighter. Yes, his teddy bear's name was Jelly Bean. He was a kid when he named him, and he happened to love jelly beans at the time. Eddie sighed and drifted off to sleep. When he woke up, he momentarily forgot what happened. Eddie shuffled into the living room, still holding Jelly Bean. Wayne was sitting on the couch, watching TV. Eddie plopped down next to him. He was watching MASH reruns. Eddie turned Jelly Bean toward the TV when Radar came on with his own teddy bear.

"Oh, Steve came by with a note for you," Wayne said and handed him the piece of paper.

Eddie's eyes widened as everything came crashing down all at once. Shit. Was this Steve telling him that he didn't want to be friends? Well, that was an irrational thought. Steve would never do that, and Eddie knew that. Still. . .he couldn't help the thought that lingered at the back of his mind. Eddie opened up the piece of paper, his hands trembling.

"I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

That's just like him. The sweet bastard. Eddie groaned and tilted his head back.

"Did something happen? Did you and Steve get into a fight?" Wayne asked.

"Something happened, but it wasn't a fight," Eddie said and sighed. "I have to tell you something."

Wayne didn't hesitate to turn off the television and give Eddie his full attention. Suddenly, he was nervous.

"You can tell me anything, son, you know that," he said.

"What if I told that I liked women. . . and men?" Eddie asked.

"Would it upset you to know that I already figured that out?" Wayne asked softly.

"What? How?! I didn't even know!" Eddie exclaimed.

"My eyes may be starting to go, but I still got them. You're not exactly subtle. . . Except towards yourself, apparently. I've seen the way you look at Steve," Wayne said and paused. "I've also seen the way you look at Tom Selleck when Magnum PI comes on. You had your tongue nearly hanging out of your head."

"Well, his thighs are right there! It's hard not to look at them," Eddie scowled and then softened his face. "So, this doesn't change anything?"

"You still my nephew?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah."

"Then nothing has changed. I love you just as much as I've always had," Wayne said. "You're my boy."

Eddie grinned and nestled his head onto Wayne's shoulder, cuddling into him just like he did when he was little.

"I love you, too."

"You getting a little old for this, ain't you?" Wayne asked as he turned the television back on.

"Jelly Bean says no."

A couple of days later, Eddie invited Steve over to his house to talk. Wayne had left for work a while ago. Steve smiled at him like he always did, except this time Eddie was aware of how his heart raced at the sight of him. He pulled him into his bedroom and closed the door behind, turning the stereo down on low. For some reason, he was really paranoid all of a sudden about people listening in. Eddie threw himself across his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was surprised when Steve copied his actions.

"How have you been?" Steve asked.

"I've been good," Eddie paused. "I came to a conclusion about something."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not the quickest on picking up on things, especially on things like this. I'm a slow learner in that department," Eddie said. "I didn't even know about myself, or I didn't want to know."

"Know about what?" Steve asked.

"That I like men and women not until. . ." He trailed off.

"Not until what?" Steve asked.

"Not until you slapped my ass!" Eddie exclaimed. "It just freaked me out, man, and I just ran. It felt like I was on full display."

"It freaked me out at first, too, when I realized it," Steve said.

"When you realized what?" Eddie asked.

"That I liked men and women," Steve said. "I didn't even know that you could do that."

Eddie realized then they had both turned on their sides, and they were now gazing into each other's eyes.

"I'm not sure why I ran from it. I'm so open-minded about so many things," Eddie said.

"I think it's just hard for anyone to open up, especially to ourselves," Steve said. "And it's just easier to run away."

"I don't want to run away anymore," Eddie whispered. "Especially not from you."

"I don't want to run away from you either," Steve said.

He reached over to take Eddie's hand that was lying between them and interlaced their fingers together. Eddie smiled.

"Can we take this slow? I really want this to work," he said.

"Take all of the time that you need," Steve whispered.

Eddie moved closer so their noses were now brushed up together. They didn't say or do anything else, just laid there and gazed into each other's eyes. Eddie never felt more freeing than he did at this moment. He wasn't just open with himself. He was open with Steve, too. This was it, no more running away for Eddie Munson.

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littlexdeaths · 1 month

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strange love - s.h.

king steve harrington x loser fem reader

everybody wants to know, if we fucked on the bathroom sink…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: underage drinking (everyone is 18+), mean!dom steve, steve is a major asshole, public sex, light degradation kink, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, steve makes reader cry, some good ole’ angst

a/n: this is a reworking of my first steeb fic i ever wrote on my old account. i hope you enjoy xx. and thank you to @stveharringtn for looking this over and hyping me up. ily cherry 💕

based on strange love by halsey

word count: 2.4k

You shouldn’t have come to this stupid party.

And you wouldn’t have, if Steve hadn’t practically begged you to make an appearance. It was only going to lead to more heartbreak for you, having to watch him flirt with every girl in the room. The night would end with you going home alone, wondering why you weren’t good enough to be on his arm.

Despite all that you go anyway, your heart severely outweighing the logical side of your brain. You even made sure to wear your best dress, hoping it would capture his attention. But the male didn’t glance your way the entire night, and you felt utterly defeated.

Why you didn’t leave after an hour of being ignored is beyond you, a small part of you still holding out hope. Leaning against a wall in the hallway you watch with disdain as your classmates drunkenly grind on each other. It was one of the last parties of the summer before college classes started, and everyone seemed to be making the most of it.

Everyone except for you.

“This was a stupid idea,” you mumble to yourself, glancing down at your drink with a deep sigh. Swirling the now lukewarm beer around in your cup, no longer interested in people watching. Drunken laughter pulls you from your sulking, watching in utter annoyance as Tommy attempts a keg stand in the middle of the living room.

A large crowd has surrounded him, giving you the perfect opportunity to find Jonathan and leave.

However, feeling a piece of paper being slipped into your hand stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes searching for the source of the note. A familiar flutter starts in your lower belly as you catch sight of him, the male now halfway up the stairs. You quickly unravel the crumpled page to find a few words written in his messy script.

You immediately crumple the note in your palm, downing the rest of your beer before you make your way up to the second floor. Despite the large and somewhat confusing layout, you navigated the dark halls with ease. As you knew the male's house far too well now, having found yourself in his bed more times than you liked to admit.

This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was only meant to be a one time thing. To get back at your cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Troy. After finding him tangled in the sheets with Vicki Carmichael at a party quite similar to this one. All because you weren’t ready to have sex with him. As much as it stung, a bigger part of you was incredibly relieved.

Something never fully cliqued with him, and deep down you didn’t want him to be your first. Troy and Steve were very good friends, and played basketball together. So it seemed fitting to ask Steve to be the one to take your virginity. Telling yourself it would royally piss Troy off, knowing you’d give it up to Steve and not him. But the truth is you’d always secretly had a thing for Steve for years.

That was your real reason, not that you’d ever admit it.

Steve was more than happy to fulfill your wish, not knowing your motive behind it. But what neither of you expected was that he would keep coming back for more. Once he had a taste of you, he couldn’t get enough. You had him wrapped around your finger, without even realizing it. However you both made a promise to keep the whole thing a secret, any plans of revenge now being thrown out the window.

Now that you weren’t dating Troy you had gone back to your quiet loser status, which you much preferred anyway. But Steve couldn’t have that ruining his reputation, so instead of arguing you went along with it. Agreeing to a secret friend with benefits relationship, despite knowing you’d want more. Feelings aside it didn’t stop you from hooking up with him multiple times a week, which brings you back to the present.

Your breathing was labored, partially due to the hand covering your mouth. You could hear the bass of the music from outside the bathroom door, so there was no need to be extra quiet.

But with Steve it was a necessity… especially in such a public place. Where anyone could press their ear to the door and figure out what was happening.

You found yourself bent over the bathroom sink, Steve fucking into you with such a ferocity it made your knees wobble. He had barely let the bathroom door shut before he was on you, tugging your panties down your legs. Tugging his shirt over his head, not bothering to take off his jeans in his impatience to have you.

“God you’re such a little tease you know that? Wearing this fucking dress, getting me all worked up.” He growled in your ear, whimpering against his hand as he pounds into your soaked heat.

The male is gripping your hip so hard you know he’ll leave bruises behind, but the harsh action only turns you on more. Knowing how desperate he was to have you, made you putty in his strong hands. Your own hand drifts between your thighs, finding your bundle of nerves and encircling it with your fingertips.

Glancing into the mirror in front of you, you watch his face as he continues to ram himself inside you. His honey brown hair sticks to his forehead, no longer styled in the perfect swoop he had it in before you entered the bathroom. His dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watches you intensely.

“Hm, look at how pathetic you look honey… letting me use you like a whore.” He grunts, leaning in closer and tugging on your earlobe with his teeth, “But you like that don’t you? You like being my whore?”

You find yourself nodding, unable to speak. Partially due to the hand still covering your mouth, but you knew even if it wasn't there it wouldn’t have made much difference. The male had fucked any logical thoughts from you at that point.

But you can’t deny the way your body reacts to his words, your walls tightening around him at the mere mention of belonging to him… and him alone. Something Steve doesn’t miss either.

“That’s cute baby…” he chuckles, letting his lips graze along the exposed skin of your throat. “Glad she knows exactly who she belongs to.”

Tears of pleasure blur your vision, mascara streaming freely down your cheeks. Your fucked out reflection stares back at you as he continues to pound into you from behind. Hooded eyes drift to gaze at him once more, seeing how his mouth falls open in a moan as you continue to pulse around his cock.

His sun kissed skin was beautifully flushed, his days spent as a lifeguard at Hawkin’s community pool were treating him extremely well. It made you want nothing more than to leave a trail of dark bruises along his freckled neck— effectively marking him as yours.

But you knew that couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. His reputation as the town’s local biggest player was far more important to him than you could ever be. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe.

You watch in awe as his head tilts back, exposing more of his throat to you. His adam’s apple bobs as he moans, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and taste the sweat that’s coating his skin in a glossy sheen.

Steve just looked so pretty like this, on the edge of release. While you had witnessed it many times now— part of you still was so mesmerized by him.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, continuing to rub your clit faster. You cry out against his hand, the whimper of his name now muffled by his palm. Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm crashes over you. But Steve doesn’t let up his pace, your knees almost buckling as he fucks into you harder.

“I know you can cum harder than that honey, do. it. again.” He growls lowly in your ear, dropping his hand away from your mouth.

Quickly knocking your own out of the way to continue rubbing your overly sensitive clit. You’d barely come down from your first high before he had you hurtling towards another one, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with acute precision.

Your eyes meet once more in the reflection, a cocky expression crosses over his features as you feel yourself falling over the edge again. Gripping the counter with both hands, biting down harshly on your lower lip to stop the scream that wants to escape your lungs.

In your euphoric state you don’t notice the way Steve’s eyes watch you possessively, pride filling his chest knowing he’s the only man who has ever seen you like this. The only man to ever make you feel this way, and he planned on keeping it that way. Selfish as it was.

The blissed out look on your face is the thing that finally breaks what little composure he had left. The male burying his face in the crook of your neck as he paints your inner walls with his release. Stilling his hips at your deepest point, in an attempt to keep his cum buried inside you.

Steve’s secret way of marking you as his.

As both of you attempt to catch your breath, the sounds of the party carry on as if nothing happened. When Steve finally releases your hips, you grip tighter onto the counter to support yourself. Knowing your knees were far too wobbly to keep you upright. A soft whimper leaves your lips as he slides out of you, suddenly feeling empty. In more ways than one.

The male is quick to tuck himself back into his jeans, roughly pulling your panties up your legs. You can feel his cum beginning to pool in the lacy material, the dirtiness of it makes your body feel hot. You let out a shaky breath, turning to face him as he finishes tucking his polo back into his levi’s.

“Wait a few minutes before you come back downstairs, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s slipping out of the bathroom, running a hand through his tousled locks.

The door closes softly, and that familiar feeling of shame washes over you again. You shouldn’t be surprised by it at this point, as your little hookups always ended the same way.

With Steve thoroughly pleased with himself, and you all alone.

You can’t stop the moisture from flooding your vision, carefully sitting down on the edge of the tub. Gripping the hem of your dress in your fists as you ruin whatever makeup was still left behind. Shoulders shaking as silent sobs rack through your chest.

In that moment you made a promise to yourself, you wouldn’t let any man— especially someone like Steve fucking Harrington make you feel this way again. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

You continue to let the traitor tears fall for a while before returning to your feet. Glancing back in the mirror you barely recognized yourself, your usual bright eyes were dull, bloodshot and puffy. The little makeup you had done was now smeared across your cheeks. With a frustrated sigh you attempt to collect yourself before returning to the party.

Cleaning the black streaks from your face, adjusting your rumpled dress until you looked somewhat presentable. Taking a deep breath you finally leave the safety of the bathroom, descending the carpeted stairs on shaky legs. No one pays you any mind as you make your way back into the sea of people.

But what you find in the living room feels like a punch straight to the gut.

Steve is on the couch, another girl already straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat. His large hands that were previously gripping onto your hips were now splayed across her bare thighs. Inching higher and higher up as she tangles her fingers in his hair. You can only stand to watch for a moment longer before bolting out of the room and into the kitchen in search of another drink.

Thankfully the room was almost empty, except for a familiar brunette who was sipping on a can of Pepsi. You don’t say anything to him, grabbing an open bottle of vodka off the counter and bringing the rim to your lips. Enjoying the familiar burn as you greedily gulp down the clear liquid at an alarming fast rate.

Jonathan looks at you concerned, immediately rushing to your side in an attempt to grab the bottle from you. You quickly dodge him, shoving him away with a dirty look.

“Jonny stop! I’m having fun, see?” You roll your eyes before dramatically taking another large swig. Your best friend had seen you drink plenty of times before, but never like this. He knew you well enough to know there was clearly something wrong.

Before you can go back in for another drink he grips onto the base of the bottle, wrestling it from you with a grimace. Before slamming it back onto the counter, making you wince slightly at the sound of the impact.

“That’s enough now. I think I should take you home.”

His tone is stern, but laced with worry. You find yourself pouting in response, a small hiccup leaving you as he sighs. The only reason Jonathan was even here in the first place was to be your ride, he hated these parties. And he especially hated Steve Harrington.

But he was your best friend, and he would’ve done anything for you. And right now anything consists of getting you home before you do something stupid, “Fine dad… take me home then.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes at your childish behavior before wrapping his arm around your waist to help guide you through the house to the front door. The vodka you had just chugged was definitely starting to take effect, as you stumbled alongside him. Now suddenly a lot more grateful for his help.

What you don’t notice in your tipsy state was a pair of honey eyes watching you both from across the room, jaw clenched in jealousy as Jonathan helps you out into the warm summer night.

#the freak writes 🫧#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #king!steve harrington #king!steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington fanfic

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neroushalvaus · 8 months

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Okay but I can not be the only person who has this experience: The first time I read Les Misérables, after Javert jumped in the Seine, I was convinced Jean Valjean would jump after him and save him. I remember reading Hugo's description about that point of Seine – "Men who fall in there do not reappear, and the best swimmers are drowned" – and thinking hah. I know this game, Mr Hugo. Good one, ol' Vicky. Sure thing, no man is powerful enough to fight against those rapids. We all know that means Jean Valjean will do that soon! We have been here before!

And then Javert just. Fucking drowned.

#i felt cheated #javert #valvert #les mis #otp; jämäkkä syleily

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rustboxstarr · 11 months

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🥀First times for everything🥀

Summary: Just some good ole' fashioned grinding my guys

Pairings: Virgin!Eddie x Plussize!Reader

CW: kissing, groping, smut, grinding, cumming in boxers 😈, slight miscommunication, new relationship, reader referred to as fat by herself because what is so wrong with that? it's an adjective!

Word count: 3.9k

A/N:This was supposed to be a blurb, I very obviously failed..

Check out my other works!

You strolled down the hall adjoining the cafeteria with an arm laced with Robins as you laughed about a previous endeavor in class, Jason had been told to shut it after talking all class and almost peed himself when he wasn't excused to the bathroom with a pass. The early June weather didn't feel as if you had just left spring, it felt like you were in the pique of august in some exotic country judging by the sun blazing down on you, allowing your body to break out in a light sweat whenever you were outside too long. The temperature was up in the three digits category every single day, so automatically baggy jeans and t-shirts turned into shorts and the occasional crop top. Today was that day, you had gotten a few stares, but that was inevitable being a fat girl wearing shorts that barely covered your ass and naturally weighty breasts on display under the white halter top, you would like to think it was a modest amount of cleavage, unfortunately that was only the case for you, for others you looked like you might have been trying too hard, there was no way you were going to care however, it was too damn hot outside to dress any lighter than this. You were pleasantly surprised that the shorts hadn't been bothering you but you dismissed the fact of no chafing due to the short walks between classes and cool air blasting through the school leaving your thighs dry and smooth as they rubbed together when you walked.

“Oooh, loverboy is here” Robin grabbed your attention and drew it down to the end of the hall to see your boyfriend leant up against the lockers, black t-shirt with some band on it you couldn't read from so far away and a simple pair of green cargo shorts. “oh and he’s waiting by your locker, how cute” Robin grinned sarcastically. You rolled your eyes at her antics, “Oh I just realized you never told me if you.. you know” she widened her eyes excitedly, “Jesus Robin, you are too invested in other people's lives” that was not the answer she was looking for and that was made clear when she shook her head expectantly. “If you must know” you rolled your eyes again “No Eddie and I have not had sex”. You stopped in the middle of the hall, pulling her to the side so you wouldn't arrive where Eddie was, mid conversation.

“Why not dude? What on earth are you waiting for?” she was undoubtedly exasperated with the situation, you were together, you had talked about sex with Eddie and she had heard from Steve that he had briefly ventured into the subject so what was the big deal?!

“Everyones not sexcrazed teenagers like you and Steve, humping like bunnies” you sneered “Ew when you say that it sounds like you mean were fucking each other” she pulled a face. “Obviously not, I just mean, Steve dates anyone in sight” you gestured to yourself, as if saying he even dates fat girls “-and you and Vickie seem to be how do I say this?” you pondered “Horny as fuck” you grinned. “So are you and Eddie” she drew her eyebrows up dramatically as if she knew something you didn't. “We don’t know that, for all I know Eddie isn't even ready to do that stuff” you explained. “Welllll” Robin bounced on the balls of her feet “I mean, he’s a 19 year old guy, they're all horny fucks. He might just be waiting for you to tell him you're ready” that was in fact the case, but you didn't know that.

“I feel like if he was he would say something” you raised your eyebrows as you began treading slowly down the hall again, “You realize you haven't told him you're ready” she rolled her eyes out of your view “I think he would know I’m ready” you countered.

“Sure, because boys are so well known for their knowledge of the female species, Eddie!” she held her hands out as a greeting. Eddie frowned slightly at her dramatic hello “Hey.. Robin” he answered her cautiously. “Alrighty well I’m gonna head to History, I’ll leave you too lovebirds be” she smirked earning a sneer from you as she began walking. She turned around behind Eddie's back to face you and made a lude scene in the hall, pretending to thrust into someone from behind while making awfully exaggerated faces of pleasure. Your stare at her drew Eddie's attention making him look behind him, Robin stopped abruptly and spun around to speed walk to class.

“Hey” you smiled, stretching up to place a peck to his lips which he happily returned. “Only have a few minutes, I have history too” he explained as you opened your locker to switch out your books “But I wanted to ask, um Wayne, is uh out tonight, if you want to you know come over, we don't have to do anything!” he was quick to stress that fact “but I just thought it might be nice, watch Tv without a 60 year old man hovering around us” he grinned “and uh we got the AC going so it'll be cool” he brought his hand to the back of his neck to scratch and it with the pads of his fingers.

“Yeah, I’d love to, I’ll just tell Steve I don't need a ride and I’ll go home with you yeah?” you closed your locker, limply holding your math textbook between both hands resting on your stomach. “Yeah sounds good” he smiled down at you, as you met his eyes you saw his attention was brought further down, to your boobs which were now firmly pressed together from the way you were holding your textbooks. You felt slightly awkward under his gaze but the moment only lasted a second or so before he cleared his throat and looked back at you “I’ll uh, be in the parking lot when you end” “Can’t wait” you grinned as you pecked him on the lips again. Before you could draw back Eddie's hand was quick to grab at your neck to hold you to him for just a few seconds longer. You swallowed as you drew apart, “Ok, bye” you forced a smile and quickly walked away. God could you be more awkward??

–

“You ok?” Robin asked as Eddie folded himself into the wooden chair next to her. “What? Oh, yeah all good” he smiled but Robin only squinted at him, a slight smirk played on her lips as she leant back, waiting for the class to start. As casual as she could be she commented “Cute top Y/N wore today right?” she was trying very hard to fight the smirk, it was proven even more difficult as she turned her head to the side to see Eddie with raised eyebrows, he coughed “Uh, yeah, didn't- didn't really notice it” he tried explaining away. Robin only nodded, silently laughing maniacally in her head.

–

“Welcome to my humble abode” Eddie grinned as he swung through the door gesturing you to enter first, you chuckled “I’m familiar with it”, both of you slipped off your shoes and dropped your school bags to the floor. “So uh” Eddie clapped his hands together before holding them firmly behind his back, trying not to rock back and forth with nerves “What do you want to do, we can watch a movie, listen to music in my room and uh…” he wasn't sure how exactly he had planned on finishing that sentence. “Make out?” you grinned “I-I mean, only- only if you want to” what was his issue with just saying one word once when he was talking, shut the fuck up Eddie, why are you so nervous, shes your girlfriend you idiot.

You looked up at him through squinted eyelids, tilting your head to the side “Do you want to?” you had kissed before, sure, indulged in a little tongue, sat next to each other on a bench and awkwardly facing each other but never close to each other, not in someone's bed. “Only if you want to” he deadpanned now, head tilting down to look you straight in the eye, wishing he could understand what was going through your head. You were about to repeat his words back to him, or even say you wouldn't mind it, but maybe if you were clear with Eddie he would be clear with you so you opted for saying it right out “I want to” Eddie's eyes widened. “Do you?” you asked slowly, voice slightly firm “Y-yes, yes” he was nodding vigorously “I want to” you giggled at him “Well come on then” you slipped your palm into his, letting him stumble with you to his bedroom. Before you had a chance to sit down Eddie asked “Music?” trying to avoid your gaze. “Yes” you stated looking him dead in the eyes before grinning “But I’m picking”.

Eddie clambered onto his bed as you went through music collection. How was he supposed to sit, in the middle against the headboard? To the side so you could sit next to him? Should he lie down? Would you be comfortable with lying down or would he seem like a creep? Was he supposed to be on top? Fuck he was getting in his head, fucking relax. He chose to sit in the middle of the bed, resting against the headboard, this way if you wanted to you could.. sit in his lap.. or next to him, he made sure there was still room for you.

Just as he was trying to relax and calm his nerves he looked over at you bent at the waist to read the backs of each cassette. His heartbeat rose and an audible gulp was heard through the room as he noticed you. With your particular position your shorts had risen up your hips, wedging between your thighs, seam pressing at your puffy cunt and giving him a clear view of half your ass. He tried to look away, find just one other thing in the room that could catch his interest but it was impossible, his eyes snapped back to you, he rolled his eyes back as if just the sight of you alone was giving him pleasure, which, it was. He took the opportunity to sneakily and quietly adjust himself, forcing his now hard cock to sit straight and under the hem of his boxers, that would definitely make his little issue less noticeable.

You stood up only a moment later, popping in the A side of the cassette Whodini, Escape. It was a surprise to see Eddie actually had Hip-pop in his house but judging by the size of his collection it seemed reasonable. You rocked your head from side to side with the beat of the music as you turned to Eddie, who sat fiddling with his rings in his lap. Now it was your turn to freak out about the sitting position, you pushed it down and took a breath. You weren't necessarily that excited about sitting on top of Eddie, you were heavy, what if you were too heavy? What if he didnt like you sitting in his lap? But you chose to power through, climbing onto the bed and swinging a leg over his and settling on his mid thighs. Eddie's wide eyes stared up at you, it was unbearable, you didn't want to think you did something wrong so you just quickly attached your lips to his.

Eddie closed his eyes with a sigh, releasing the tension in his shoulders. As your hands grazed his arms and settled on each side of his neck Eddie drew his hands up to hold lightly at your waist. The kiss lasted a few seconds before you drew back to look at him, you didn't really get a chance though because soon enough Eddie leaned forward searching your lips again, with gentle movements you got him to settle back against the headboard and pecked against his lips. As you kissed him again you felt Eddie's tongue poking slightly at your flesh, nonverbal asking you to part your lips, you did, and you almost swooned when you felt his tongue graze yours, cinnamon gum tasting at the tip of your tongue. A low groan spilled from Eddie's lips as he grew more brave and licked more of your tongue. It was as if both of your bodies just knew and molded together, tongues swiping at each other with growing confidence and force. Eddie's hands began to grip harder at your hips making you notice it more, you chanced it and grabbed his right hand.

His grip immediately loosened, thinking he might have held you too hard but gasped when he felt you guide his hands to your boob. He muttered a “fuck” against your lips as his fingers pushed into the soft skin. His grip on your hip went back to its former strength as he palmed at you desperately. You hummed against him at the feeling and continued kissing him. Relishing in the feeling of Eddie's greedy hand altering between squeezing harshly and simply holding you.

He couldn't hold it in anymore though, he was straining desperately against his boxers and he needed some sort of release. You made a shocked whine when his hand left your boob to find its place on your hip again. Eddie forcefully pulled you flush against his chest, moving you from his thighs to sit right down on his clothed cock. You let out a loud gasp as you felt his hard length pressing right against your covered cunt, you parted your thighs to open your lips up to sit firmly on him, allowing his previous adjustment to sit deliciously pressed to your clit. Eddie's hands instinctively pushed over your shorts as he moved his hands from your hips to grab a hefty handful of your ass, causing you to push down on him. You let out a low moan at the feeling, desperately kissing his lips again to taste him.

When Eddie pulled you towards him with his grip still firm on you over the denim, you pulled away from him. Wide eyes staring down at him in surprise. Eddie's lips curled into a slight smirk and adjusted his footing on the bed, to push you up against him with his knee as his hands encouraged you to grind against him, his hands pushing you back and forth until you got the memo and began grinding against him. One hand left his shoulder to grip at the headboard behind him, supporting you in grinding against him in a particularly hard stroke as you watched Eddie's mouth fall open and his eyes flutter closed at the sensation. You forced your hips forward again, a long stroke where you could feel your clit hit slightly past the ridge of his head earned a loud groan from Eddie as his head fell back, hair brushing lightly against your hand.

With each movement of your hips, slowly but each stroke daring longer and longer Eddie groaned beneath you, suddenly you missed the touch of his lips against yours so you bent down slightly to capture his plump flesh in a light bite which turned into a kiss. Eddie grasped desperately at the fat of your ass as he timidly licked into your mouth. The long strokes ran faster as you found your position above him and confidence overthrew your nervousness, you hungrily grinded against his cock, the seam of your shorts perfectly placed against your clit as the first thrust of his hips forced it harder into the delicate nub.

With that first thrust you couldn't help the loud slightly pornographic moan that fell from your lips, it had Eddie slowing his tackle on your mouth to watch in awe as he thrusted again, swallowing hard at the sound of a second moan. With the release of his lips you closed your eyes, your head rolling over on your shoulders to face the ceiling. Eddie stared at you, his mouth falling open as he watched your face intently. He thrust his hips again, harder this time to hear a now proper loud sultry moan echo in the room. Had you opened your eyes you would have seen the surprise and excitement on is face at your reactions, but you were too focused on revelling at the fact that your clit was being treated with perfect friction with each passing second.

His hands went back to forcing you back and forth over him, the efforts of his knee, his hands, your hips and his hands moving you back and forth made you move faster and faster against him. Unabashedly your moans picked up to short and high pitched with each force of your hips. Eddie groaned as you purposely pushed your weight down on him and it distracted him from watching you. He went back to falling against the headboard with his eyelids shut but eyes rolling to the back of his skull beneath them.

His groans of delight turned into deep moans when the pace picked up to impatiently fast, rubbing over his dick as quickly as you could. Not only was he getting some much needed relief but soon he felt the relief turn into active pleasure, his eyes flew open in an instant, fuck if you continued like this he was going to cum in his jeans. Jesus christ he would look so pathetic if he couldn't even hold it when you were simply making out. Was this making out? You weren't even kissing him?-

On the other side of the interaction was you, eyes squeezed tightly shut as your mouth dropped open to an exaggerated ‘o’ simply in the moment and not caring one bit that you might complete, it wasn't even the possibility, you knew that with only another minute you would come. And you chased that while picking the pace up once again averaging four strokes with each second, tits bouncing as you pushed yourself down on him.

-Would you be grossed out if he came? Would it be weird? Fuuuuck he was clenching his stomach now, willing his body to slow down, but he couldn't when you felt so damn good. “Shit” it was the first word you had said since walking into his room, and it snapped him right out of his overthinking “- Eddie, I’m gonna cum” you whined. “Wait really?” hang on, if you were cumming, he could too right? “Yeah” it was an answer to his question but it came out as a long moan as you rocked against him. Well that was all the answer Eddie needed and he relaxed, he was shocked that it was even possible but he forced you to rock faster and faster, now fully accepting the pleasure it was causing him. You moans came out louder and louder, almost like high pitched squeaks with each thrust.

They grew shorter and louder, building up to the inevitable orgasm you were experiencing, you repeated a string of “fuck, fuck, fuck” until finally Eddie heard one loud scream of a moan as your head became even heavier on your shoulders forcing you to almost fall onto your back before Eddie reached up quickly to hold at your back, one hand tightly wrapped around your waist while one splayed between your shoulderblades. Your hand moved from the headboard to grip at his shoulders as you rocked through your orgasm. Eddie had been so fixed on watching you that he hadn't even realized he too was at the brink of the edge “Mother fu- SHIIIIIT” he groaned as he curled in on himself, his forehead finding support against your cleavage as his body portrayed the action of a dry heave. He felt the thick ropes of cum shoot out of his slit to paint the inside of his boxers and create a sticky mess.

You were now panting heavily as a hand found its way to slither through his curls and hold you softly against your boobs while Eddie shook beneath you. When you finally came down from your high, only 15 seconds after the fact, you became aware that Eddie was still seemingly cumming. You watched in shock as he groaned beneath you and shook uncontrollably until finally what must have been a whole half minute he stilled and heaved heavily. His heavy breathing forces your hand on his shoulder to follow up and down.

You giggled at him as Eddie moved from your tits to fall back against his pillows, a light sheen of sweat holding his bangs to his forehead as he panted. “Jesus, is this how you normally are?” you joked “Gonna get me pregnant if you cum that hard, probably break the condom” Eddie's eyes opened to look at you through a frown of confusion “I don't know” you answered sheepishly at your weird joke, but Eddie only burst out into a loud laugh, it was intoxicating and led you to join in as well.

The laughter finally died down “I have actually never cum that hard in my life, so no need to worry” he joked. “I’ve uh never actually uh done this before” he gestured between your bodies “Or anything really” you couldn't help the snort that left your throat, Eddie went back to frowning at you “I’m, I’m sorry” now you couldn't help that the loud obnoxious giggle “no no really I’m sorry” you breathed, why was this even funny you had no idea “I, uh, I kinda figured, you didn't really make a move” you explained.

Eddie pulled a face “Hey, I didn't make a move because I wanted to be respectful of you” he argued “I didn't know if you were like, ready for stuff like this yet” he explained. “Oh that's so sweet” a squeak bubbled up behind your lips as you fought hard not to laugh again “What is so funny?!” Eddie asked exasperatedly, you instinctively went to cover your mouth as you scrunched your face up “It's not funny I swear” you told him after taking a deep breath. “Well it seems to be for you”, you looked at him with a much needed serious expression “It's not funny, it is really sweet, it’s just that, I dated Steve” Eddie shook his head desperately, while blinking profusely with his eyes closed “Sorry, dated? I thought you said you went out like one time” Eddie stressed the one by holding his finger out. You grabbed it and laced your fingers with his. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew I’d scare you off, and I really wanted you to ask me out” you gave him an apologetic look “Robin, kinda told me to wait with that whole thing, she said you'd be insecure”

“Fucking Robin” Eddie scoffed, with a roll of his eyes before he they suddenly zoned in on you again “Wait, so how experienced are you?” he asked. “Well I’m not a virgin” Eddie's face fell at that “But!” you interjected before he could say something “If it helps, I’ve never cum that quickly or hard with Steve, or ever really” at that fact Eddie's face broke into a grin “That does help actually” you smiled at him.

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Note

honey!! number 11 on the prompt list is so steve coded, don’t ya think??

it so totally is 🥰 11. back hugs

steve h x gn!reader. good ol' pining besties <3

****

"Robin," you say. "You're overthinking it."

"Signals, Y/N. People have signals. A hand on your wrist, a secret smile. Signals! Now: was Vickie sending me signals? We have to explore all possibilities. But mostly, the answer is probably no. She just wants to hang."

"She asked you to brunch. People our age do not go to brunch."

"Brunch is classy!"

"Brunch is a breakfast date," you scoff. "Brunch is I want to get a cat with you."

"Well, I think—" Robin groans, glancing over your shoulder. "Oh, God. Heads up. Loverboy, twelve o'clock."

Before you can turn, you're being swept into a warm hug from behind. Steve's cheek presses to yours, his chin tucked in your neck. The tip of his nose is cold from outside as it brushes your jaw. Your heart haywires.

"Steve!" you squeal, his arms around your waist. "What're you doing?"

"You're gonna love me," he says into your ear.

Already do.

"Am I now?"

He walks around to face you.

"Yup," he says, popping the 'p'. "Look at these."

Steve holds up two slips of paper. Tickets to Bruce Springsteen at Soldier Field.

"Holy shit!" you cry, and throw your arms around him. He catches you with a laugh.

"These must've cost a fortune! How did you get them? I thought they were all sold out."

Steve shrugs. "I know people. So, interested?"

He knows it's all you've been talking about (and lamenting over when the tickets sold out in three minutes). Bruce Springsteen is one of your favorites.

"You didn't—Steve," you say in awe. "You really didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Consider it an early birthday present."

"Then I want you to come with me."

"Wh—me?"

You scoff. "Who else would I bring?"

"Someone who actually knows Springsteen songs?"

"You know enough of his hits. I mean, if you really don't want to go..."

"No!" He shakes his head. "No, Y/N, obviously I'll go. I just didn't want you to be embarrassed when I'm the only person there who doesn't know Glory Days."

"Well, that's why we're gonna listen to Born in the USA everyday until the concert," you grin. "Get you prepped."

Steve groans. "Can't believe you're giving me homework."

You turn to put the tickets in your bag. Steve crowds you as you do, chin on your shoulder. He's always affectionate with you, loose with his touches and pets.

Robin looks at you, brows to her hairline.

"It's fun homework," you say, ignoring Robin with all your might. "We can listen to the tapes in your car 'cause you've got the fancy sound system."

"That why you're friends with me?" Steve asks, arms curling around your belly. "Just for perks?"

You grin. "No comment. But the concert tickets have definitely moved you up to best friend status."

"Where was I before?"

You pat his cheek. Steve pretends to grumble for another moment before slipping away. Instantly, you miss the warmth of his embrace.

"If you're done clinging to Y/N," Robin starts. "The new releases need to be shelved."

Steve throws her an eye roll but goes, giving you one last smile. You return it sheepishly. Robin watches you like a hawk.

You finally relent when Steve's far enough away.

"What is it now, Robs?"

"Signals," is all she says.

"Concert tickets is not a signal, Robin."

"Oh, it's something. Steve's music taste is whatever's on the radio."

"Not true! He listens to Queen and Fleetwood Mac and AC/DC and—"

"Because of you." Robin huffs. "It's you, Y/N, it's all for you. And you're both so deeply in denial you think it's just friendship things."

"He's just..." You watch Steve stack the videos on the shelf.

The enamel pin you got him a few months ago is on his FV vest. It's a bumblebee that says bee mine! You'd thought it was cute and fun and that Steve would like it. He wears it everyday, even if it doesn't match his outfit at all.

You look at Robin, your heart in your throat.

"Signals?" you ask quietly.

She nods.

"Now you're getting it."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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rosewaterandivy · 8 months

Text

10. a kiss is not enough

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

W.C.: 4.5K

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), real-talk with Nancy Wheeler, idiots still being idiots, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: Holy shit, I can't believe we've come to the end (or is it 👀) of this series! When I started this, I had no clue how many people would respond to Trouble and Steve's idiots-to-lovers story - but I'm so glad that they did! This series will always be near and dear to my heart, for a variety of reasons, but primarily for the people it brought into my life (here's lookin' at you, babe!). This isn't a goodbye from Trouble and Steve so much as a see you later - don't hate me too much! Poetry excerpt from John Keats. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Trouble’s playlist from Steve: trouble will find me

Steve's playlist from Trouble: rebel without a clue

previous || epilogue

Now, May, Finals Week

“Just think about it, kid,” Hopper says on his way out your classroom door. He’d requested a meeting during your conference block, when normally he’d amble in under some pretense just to shoot the shit.

You nod, at a loss for words. It’s not like you needed yet another thing on your plate— waiting to hear back from admissions and not spilling to Steve or the gang was bad enough.

Yeah, you’d applied for grad school (even though grad students were the worst) and Hop had been contacted as a reference, which prompted his little visit today. Apparently, the district had approved a stipend and sabbatical for faculty furthering their education in graduate school.

“I’d like to recommend you,” Hop said matter of factly, sitting in a desk across from yours. “Maybe not for the sabbatical until you’re further along in the program, writing your thesis and whatnot.”

“I, uh–” you stumbled to find the words. “Cart, horse. I haven’t been accepted yet.”

He leveled you with a look, “Are you shittin’ me? Of course you’re getting in.”

You swallowed audibly and busied yourself emptying your desk for the summer, “Well, time will tell I suppose.”

“This isn’t—” Hopper paused in thought. “This isn’t about Harrington, is it?”

“Huh,” you nearly yelled, clutching the cardboard box for dear life. You had been so careful too.

He cracks a smile, “I saw the pair of you at graduation, you think you’re so slick.”

That brings a smile to your face, good ol’ Hop sussing out the goings on like he’d never left the force.

“It’s nothing.” You assure him, “We haven’t— We’re professionals, okay?”

“I know,” he nods, voice lowering as if he could spook you. “I’m happy for you, really.”

A small smile breaks across your face, “Yeah, uh, thanks.”

Finals done and grades posted, you’d never been so happy to get home. Had plans to pour yourself onto the couch and not move for 72 hours.

But life (and Steve) had other plans.

He was sorting through the mail, chucking envelopes into various piles on the countertop. The loft was quiet that afternoon— Eddie had a gig in Indy that evening and Robin was crashing at Vickie’s for the night. Steve hummed a tune to himself, the occasional slap of paper hitting the granite punctuating it.

“Oh hey,” Steve turns with a large envelope in hand, “This looks important.” Tosses it with freakish accuracy, the white paper landing with a thwack where your shorts had ridden up against your thigh.

Distracted by whatever drama was unfolding on TV— something about a crew working on chartered private boats— you mindlessly slip your thumb beneath the lip of the envelope and tear it open.

It’s only once you’ve pulled the papers from it that you glance to see what’s what. The university’s crest shines like a beacon, your thumb worrying over the topmost letter. Steve, the bastard, has stopped his mail sorting and turned toward you.

He leans lazily against the counter, a knowing smirk fixed on his lips. You scramble up from the couch with the papers, too nervous to see for yourself. “Here,” you say, thrusting the envelope and documents to his chest. “Can you—”

Pulling you to his chest with an arm, he brushes his lips against the crown of your head. “Sure, honey.” You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest— warm and familiar.

“You know,” he drawls, “The big envelope generally means something good, right?”

“I know,” muffled against his shirt.

He chuckles, hand coming up to cradle your head. Steve clears his throat, reads the opening of the letter in his best announcer voice. “Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that…”

The rest is drowned out by the rushing of blood in your ears, the tears pooling in your eyes breaking free to cascade down your cheeks. He squeezes you tight abandoning the acceptance letter and letting it flutter to the floor in favor of drawing you closer. Steve kisses you, licking your own tears into your mouth, your taste onto your tongue. And it’s so weirdly hot that your heart starts fluttering again, like you’re seeing him for the first time.

Because of course, just as things were going right something had to come and throw a wrench into things.

Plans for lazing in the early summer forgotten, the next few days saw you coming and going from the university campus for orientation, meetings with faculty, so on and so forth. As you were leaving the grad student mixer, a professor peeled off from a group of faculty to flag you down with a call of your name.

You turn, not recognizing them from the English department. She’s an older woman, has maybe a few years on your mother, and is swathed in a lovely linen dress— the cool elegance of minimalist style.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Holland,” she says shaking your hand. “I’m on the admissions committee and was very impressed with your work on Dante Alighieri.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“And you studied Italian as an undergrad?”

“Certo.”

That brings a smile to her face. “Perfetto,” she says with a perfect Italian accent and waves over another faculty member. “I only ask because there’s a summer intensive in Italy beginning next week that I think you’d be perfect for.”

Your mind reels. The new professor introduces himself and echoes Dr. Holland’s sentiments— a summer session of classes in Italy, in partnership with Università di Bologna, the oldest university in operation in the world. Scholarships that would cover the cost of tuition, travel, and accommodations for you to peruse.

What the fuck.

Vision swimming, you somehow come back to the conversation at hand. Dr. Holland presses a folder to your hand, “I know you were planning on taking the introductory grad school courses over the summer, but I hope you’ll consider joining us in Italy instead.”

You nod, gobsmacked and make your way to the car. Settling into the sweltering seat, you start the car and call Nancy. If anyone would know what to say in this situation, it would be her.

“That’s the thing,” you sigh, wine glass in hand as you slump on Nancy’s couch. “We’re not anything, haven’t discussed it. I mean, sure, we fuck like rabbits, but aside from that?”

She blows a raspberry and sips from her glass. “He’s in love with you, get over it.”

You jerk up, “Okay, maybe,” you allow. “But he hasn’t said anything.”

“And you won’t pony up to do it yourself?”

A scoff as you drain your glass. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Nancy laughs at that, loud and bright. “Unfortunately, yes!” She refills your glass before continuing, “Let’s be honest, you’re both hopeless when it comes to eachother.” She raises her brow before you can balk, “Full offense intended.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

She hums at that, head cocked to the side in thought. Her nail taps against the glass with a soft clink. A bite to her lips before she heaves a sigh, “Sometimes he just needs a push.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I am absolutely not telling him he’s bullshit, if that’s what you’re after.”

Nancy, to her credit, winces uncomfortably at the memory. “No, no,” a shake of her head. “Absolutely not, you would never.” She sets her glass down carefully, giving you her full attention. “What I’m getting at is this: do you want to be something with Steve?”

She lets the question hang in the air between you.

“Because if you don’t know Trouble, you should back away now.” A low warning tone. “You’re it for him, have been since he laid eyes on you, but you’re both too scared to do anything about it.”

You drain your glass to the dregs and hastily take your leave. At the sound of the door closing, Nancy grabs her phone and brings it to her ear, “Hey Harrington, I need a favor…”

Returning from a less than helpful hang session at Nancy’s, you find a post-it note left on your bedroom, door that reads ‘meet me at our spot on lover’s lake. - s.’

Prizing it from the wood grain, you make your way back to the kitchen to scavenge for something to eat, in an effort to soak up the remnants of wine in your system. Opening the fridge you spy another post-it stuck to the topmost shelf: ‘get your ass down here, i’ll feed you soon enough. - s.’

With a laugh, you let the fridge door fall shut and grab your keys.

He can see you now, just barley, even in the indigo dark. Wonders to himself, how are you even real? How is it that you’re mine? An explanation that won’t ever come.

You slip into the cool water of Lover’s Lake like a dream, with nary a sound. Steve stumbles after you on the piles of clothing you’d left behind—bunched up denim shorts here, a threadbare tank-top over there, the silk of your thong musky and damp.

Fisting his shirt to pull it up and over his head, it falls to the forest floor behind him, jeans shucked off and tossed elsewhere, boxers joining your lingerie by the shore. His patience is wearing thin as you wade further and further from him out into the lake.

Little minx, he smiles and takes a breath before diving beneath the waves. Arms cutting through the placid water at a quick pace until he’s occupying the space between your bare legs, and coming up for air.

One arm drags you near, lazily pressing you close, tight around the small of your back as the tide breaks around your waist, minute movements almost imperceptible— the slow roll of your hips against his.

Water shallow enough to tread and keep you buoyant. Steve kisses you slow and sweet, pulling you flush against his chest while you writhe under the water’s surface. Body slick and wanton and arching into his own.

His dick jumps when you lift yourself to drape your arms around his shoulders. A sharp breath replaced with a shaky exhale as he brings his forehead to rest on yours, dark eyes taking in the exhilarated flush of your body.

And Steve knows, under his skin and tucked into the cage of his ribs, near the beating of his anguished heart, that you’re the only thing left in this world worth worshipping. To keep you, and render you a flightless bird, to clip your wings, would be all for naught.

He has to let you go again, and so soon after you found him. From perihelion to aphelion before the moon’s full turning. The soft curve of your throat drawn taut as you glance upward, marvelling at the stars and planets in the northern sky.

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” Your voice is a husk, low and hoarse, in the dark. “Its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness.” Your eyes, once fixed on the sea of stars above, shift to him once more.

Closer to the shoreline now, and unbeknownst to you, Steve had gently waded you both inshore, until he could draw you toward the dock.

You let him walk you back until you’re flush against a mooring pole, wood rough against your moon-bathed skin. Body yielding to him as both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls you forward by the hips.

“S’okay, honey,” He mutters—right into your panting mouth with a sultry pull of his lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss from his lips that he laves and sucks to the column of your throat.

He ignores you, crawling his hands onto your hips to keep you from squirming. Works his thigh in between your legs for good measure. Once you’re settled, he moves one hand to your center a finger trailing up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto the spot that makes you keen, just behind your ear. You fist his hair in both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But Steve doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your neck and into your kiss-bitten mouth, he doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion lights a terrible match inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to a forest fire.

Calming breaths in and out. Steady head, steady heart. When you’re able to meet his gaze again, you take a moment to see him as he truly is: dappled in moonlight, forelock hanging in front of his eyes, his entire focus trained on you.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, scissoring them, pumping them in and out.

Steve sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive skin and lips, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching back into his hand, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

You shake like a leaf in his arms, not knowing if it’s from the cool night air or due to the man before you.

Instead of increasing his pace, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third. Your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean back with a whimper.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, so soft and low that your heart stills.

Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, his previous two fingers pushing inside gently. The third finger meets resistance as you tense up. “S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m…”

Your head knocks back against the wooden pier. But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear.

You blink owlishly, trying desperately to weave your threads of thought together. A shake of your head to rattle them loose. A sweet smile up to Steve, a barely there kiss to his lips.

Your eyelids are heavy, breaths heaving from your chest. Steve commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you.

You gasp and moan, arching your chest into his and pulled as taut as a bow sting—back forming a crescent-shaped arc, a sliver of the moon radiant in the inky blue reflection of the water.

“C’mon, that’s it, honey. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked collar, bristles on his cheek and jaw tickling your sensitive skin.

Coming back to yourself, you shiver bodily. And Steve looks at you as if you hold infinities in the palms your hands.

You reach for him reverently, desperate for his shape of beauty and noble nature. A dream realized, a wish granted, gentle and true. You feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination.

You whisper, "Missed you," eliciting a shudder from him as your palm grips him tenderly.

Relishing in the temperature of his body, you sigh. Spreading the beaded precome at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, head falling to yours.

“Missed you more,” He hums, eyes heavy-lidded and lustful.

Gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly and without haste, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could burst from your throat.

You whimper. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the gratifying sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re fearful to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, as water lapping against your thighs, holds onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you cry, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He moves in you, like a prayer.

A groan escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, lover… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his.

The two of you feel rooted together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. Your body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away, your shaky legs held in his secure grasp.

The black slik of night gives way to the earth’s rotation, stars and moon bending to the will of gravity. Splashes in its silent, dark depths as you broach the shore. A little shaky on your feet, but he’s close behind, sultry and brilliant like the summer morning quickly approaching.

Whispers and murmurs tucked between fervent kisses as you dress. Fabric sticking to damp skin as his hands roam. Frenetic movements as he backs you up against the car, the coolness of it causing you to shiver.

“You should do it,” he rasps against your lips. “The Italy thing, you always loved it there.”

“How did you–” you sputter.

You can’t see him roll his eyes, but you just know. “Nance, who else?”

The warmth of Steve’s body burns against you, a hand threading through your hair half-convinced the moon is hiding there, hanging like a jewel in the night. And you’re a mess when you kiss him. Your breath is warm and so sweet, and the center of his chest squirms like something alive.

In that moment, you love him but can’t tell him, not yet. You decide the sun that will kiss freckles to his face will do it for you.

The song of summer sings out as you load your suitcase into Nancy’s car a few days later. The trunk slams closed and your back is pressed against his chest, his arm hanging casually around your collar. It is the end of May, the first bloom of summer balmy on your skin.

Steve had not taken the news of Nancy driving you to the airport well.

At all.

A sponged necklace of kisses to your throat as the light creeps in. Sheets kicked to the edge of the bed so you’re tangled up in him. Skin already glinting gold in the summer sun. Twisting in his hold, desperate to glance at the time. “Steve,” muffled against the heft of his shoulder, “I gotta go, Nance will be here soon.”

The turn of his weight bearing down, trapping your body under his. A cruel circle of his hips has you shuddering. His breath ghosts along your skin, “Baby, baby please.” Nose trailing down from your sternum to the swell of your stomach. Pausing there for lips to lave kisses on the curves that trailed to your hips.

Eyes dark and heady with promise, “Just a taste.” Lips and mouth delving lower now, fingers parting the cleave of your cunt with a squelch. He hooks them back into his mouth with a groan. “Mmm,” he slurs, drunk off your arousal. “You taste good, sweetheart,” His nose bumps against your clit, “Like honey.”

Breath stuttering in the cage of your ribs, you fist his hair in one hand and tug. Steve moans overtly, pupils blown wide while he’s face deep in pussy. “Steve,” Your voice trembles. He glances up, smoldering and glorious, drinking you up. “Ah—fuck,” before you’re overtaken again.

You’re desperate, and he can hear it in your voice. A quiver in your throat, you swallow thickly mouth falling open in a pant. His fingers work into you easily, dragging exquisitely along your channel—warm and wet, only growing more so with every thrust of his hand. You mewl, hips bucking up as he sucks your swollen clit.

Legs thrown over his shoulders, as he cants your pelvis forward, arm heavy against your stomach to bully you in place. “Sweet girl,” He coos, lips ruddy and wet with your slick. “Doin’ so well for me.” You shiver in his hold, sunbeams hazy with orange glow, the refracting light makes a halo to crown him and for a second you feel blind.

Then you feel something pulled taut in your belly. A chord stretching like a rubber band before it snaps. The wind up is excruciating, Steve’s litany of devotions falling in hushed murmurs from his lips. His fingers plunging up into the chasm between your legs, pulling away wetter each time.

He bends back down, tongue circling your clit at a dizzying pace. A third finger slides in impossibly, a keen igniting from your throat—high and whimpering. God, you’re so close. You babble, hands scrambling purchase against his dewy skin.

“Come,” he commands, “Come for me right now and I’ll fuck you through it, how you like. Then I’ll make you come again and we can go.”

“Oh my god,” you thrash on the bed, hair sticking to the sheen of your face, hanging on by a thread as his fingers drive into you, on a mission to break either the bed frame or your brain, both were fine. In a rush. Can’t quit now. A little bit more. Your entire body is folded against him, insides fluttering desperately, maddeningly.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” Steve promises, “You stumbling in there.”

The image flashes through your lust-addled brain, the telltale sign of him screwing you stupid— lips swollen, legs wobbly, outfit crumpled up, smelling like him and sex in front of all your friends.

“You want it, don’t you, want them to know you’re all mine?” He smears your wet around the sides of your cunt— spit, slick— up to your clit. And then he pushes you like a button, flicking the pad of his thumb upwards and grins at the way you jerk in time.

“Stevie,” you mewl, “Steve.” The syllable breaks, your panting comes out in choked babbling.

You drily sob out something broken, a tiny echo of affirmation as he keeps fucking into you like he could break through. He’s really abused your pussy this morning, maybe gone too far, but every time you come like this, it’s like he’s seeing something holy.

“Oh my god…!” It’s a small shout as you shatter, and it makes Steve’s spine light up as you rub your face further into the pillow.

“Praying to me, sweetheart?” but doesn’t stop those tiny, hard circles, doesn’t stop melting into your body, his dick pulsing as he ruts against the sheets. “You can keep doing that,” he urges, “I like that.”

So, you’re not surprised when the two of you stumble into a nearly finished breakfast, as predicted, in a terrible disarray, and Robin crosses herself before promising, “I’m getting you two a goddamn chastity belt.”

On the couch, Eddie clicks the remote to a new channel, snapping his ring-clad fingers with an offhanded, “A-fucking-men.”

As much as you tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t goodbye but instead see you soon, it didn’t stick. But the ache in your gut did—low and menacing, growling like an animal.

Eddie and Robin were easy, promises to stay in touch and bring back the best candy. Your parents were less so, tight hugs and dried tears on cheeks.

Steve, however, you needed to brace yourself for. Short of chaining yourself to Nancy’s car, you weren’t sure how you’d escape with your dignity intact. He was already kissing on you, soft and sweet, as Nancy slid into the driver’s seat while Eddie and Robin waved goodbye walking back inside.

You slip from his grasp in a flash, pulling him by the belt loops to knock hips. “Stevie, lover mine,” you sing, his palms cupping your ass as his hands slide into your back pockets.

Lover.

What a word.

You think about it every waking second—the way he stretches in the morning, how he sings in the shower, dances in the kitchen, smiles and beams at anyone who passes by—how good he is.

How you love him.

“Mm—” raspy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Feet walking you closer and closer and you’re pressed against him. Nosing along the column of his neck, nipping at the delicate skin there, watching as his throat bobs when he swallows.

Hands free themselves from denim confines, a thumb caresses the small of your back. Steve pries your hand from his chest, and brings it to his mouth, placing a tender kiss against your palm.

You hum as his lips brush your skin, observing as he meanders to the thin flesh of your wrist. Hazel eyes near golden in the morning sun as Steve looks to you, face open and fond. Lips featherlight when they kiss your thundering pulse.

Only then do you start to break.

You thought you were prepared. But it steals the breath from your lungs, levelling you to ruin, a creeping sense of hopelessness in its wake.

He’s quick to notice, crushing you to his chest and hand cradling your head. Soothing murmurs of “S’okay honey, we’ll be alright,” and the rasp of your name. Fingers brushing hair from your face with a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

And it is hard to leave him, but you can do difficult things.

Forehead bent to yours, back warm in the sun’s decorous rays, a searing tear-laden kiss and you’re off. Turned back in your seat to see him recede in the distance until he’s a mere speck on the horizon as Nancy tugs you forward.

All the goodbyes had all been said, save one thing lodged in the depths of your throat.

I love you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #the kids aren't alright rosewaterandivy #modern!steve harrington #teacher!steve

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look-how-they-massacred-them · 5 months

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Talia Al Ghul

Submission reason:

she was like a very fun and interesting complex character, but then 9/11 happened and she's middle eastern so they were like got to make her just plain ol' evil so they made her a bit of a rapist, amongst other things

This one writer, Grant Morrison, took her existing character and massacred it through a racist and sexist retcon. Morrison made her a rapist, removed a lot of her depth (haven’t read this specific run because of how badly it treated Talia, there’s better things out there so forgive a lack of details), and just made her character worse. Plus, the run had continued effects which made her continue in the worse state.

After Grant Morrison's run, she was turned into the person to SA Batman, every fucking adaptation and official material insists on having her conceive Damian without Bruce's consent. Not only that, they like to depict her as a shitty mom. They also had her sleep with Jason, you know, the teenage adopted son of her beloved, who she helped heal after he crawled out of his grave.

Racist writing and misogyny. General Grant Morrison writing

Everything about her was completey changed because racist wrier couldn't bother to check what exactly happened in older comics they decided to reference

Grant Morrison took a noncanonical story in which she and Batman were in a committed relationship and totally consensually got pregnant and adapted that into main continuity by having Talia drug Bruce and rape him. For no reason other than Brown Woman Bad.

she's literally made into racist caricature, also she used to be a fashion queen and now she only wears either some black catsuit or same green top and skirt most of the time

Talia is the mother of Damian Wayne. Originally, she and Bruce had him consensually. Her morals were grayer than Bruce's, but she was a good person. They changed it so that Talia r*ped Bruce to have Damian. Nowadays, she's a horrible person! She user to be torn between Bruce and her legacy as an Al Ghul, but look at how she is now! Eugh!

While the treatment of Talia's character has never been perfect and was always marred with racism, she was a complex and nuanced morally grey character who functioned as one of Batman's main love interests for decades. Then a writer named Grant Morrison (they/them) used her as a mom for his new character, Damian Wayne (who later became the fifth Robin), without bothering to read up on her, resulting in her turning into complete racial stereotype of a heinous child abuser and heartless, coldblooded assassin who had to drug Batman to have sex with him (ie she's a rapist too now). This massacre happened in 2006 and this has since become her default characterization. Increasingly, there have been attempts made to lessen the severity of it, but since this massacre is intrinsic to Damian's character, it's extremely unlikely she'll ever recover from it.

Propaganda:

Also before Grant Morrison ever even got their hands on her she also was repeatedly killed and resurrected in rapid successikn in an explicit effort to break her mind and brainwash her into being evil, which succeeded. This had no real lasting impact but I definitely think it adds to the character massacre complete picture.

TALIA IS AMAZING AND SHE SO INTERESTING AND FUN IN STUFF THAT HASN’T BEEN RUINED BY THE MASSACRE. SORRY FOR YELLING I JUST LOVE HER AND REALLY NEED TO GO READ MORE STUFF WITH HER IN IT.

Like many Talia stans I prefer for her to be depicted as a mom figure for Jason, it's fair for us to ignore canonical shipping from the company that allows BrucexBabs and who deaged Vicki Vale (the reporter they had Bruce and Dick competing to date) so they could ship her with Tim Drake

I'm an aroace but miss al Ghul can always get it

She's cooler than you

she's really cool <3

#look how they massacred them poll #look how they massacred my girl #talia al ghul #dc comics #dc talia al ghul #propaganda post

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geronimomo-spd · 6 months

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ok tails of the tardis the time meddeler littiraly made me cry :sob: they really focused on how much Vicki loved the doctor so much, i forgot how much she just… loved him 😭 god.

i do wish they actually talked about Steven's emotions, like actually talking about how he expirianced the horrors while being on the tardis and such, or at least, going the lovely nostalgia angel, at least talk about how the doctor littiraly saved him from decades of being treated like a human pet. but god, seeing the actual actors being their characters again in live action 😭 they just slipped in their characters so well

not their true wish to just meet the doctor again. 😭❤ its not often that William Hartnel's death hits me so strongly but here it really did

the last scene... the camera slowly focusing on Vicki's face as she hears the doctor laugh again GOODNESS ME I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

but littiraly, Steven seeing Vicki finally after all these years... and his first instinct is to just... ignore all the pain and suffering he suffered here... just to make Vicki smile as they recount the good ol days... that is Steven right there to me 😭

#doctor who #steven taylor #vicki pallister #dw #tales from the tardis #whoniverse #crying screaming throwing UP #classic who watchalong #OLD STEVEN IS SO GOOD YOU GUYS

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redwineconversation · 7 months

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Olympique Lyonnais Instagram Q&A

Blah blah standard disclaimers apply; @OL Comms Dept I do love a good Pumpkin Spice Latte with whipped cream and soy milk; I believe that if you do or say invasive shit you should be banned from stadiums (maybe THAT will teach you not to develop parasocial relationships!!); y'all know the speech by now.

To know this team is to understand them. This is how you get to that.

OLYMPIQUE LYONNAIS INSTAGRAM Q & A

Hey look I now know how to link to Instagram! World is truly ending.

Question: If you were stuck on a desert island who would you want to be with?

Danielle van de Donk: [to the social media admin] You.

Griedge M'Bock: With Amel [Majri] and Delphine [Cascarino]. We'll form a group.

Perle Morroni: With Delphine [Cascarino], because I think she's pretty competent in terms of survival methods.

Vanessa Gilles: No one.

van de Donk: She means Danielle van de Donk.

Gilles: I spend enough time with them.

Christiane Endler: Damaris, because that way we can speak Spanish.

Ellie Carpenter: Daan [van de Donk], because she's my best friend.

Maeline Mendy: Liana Joseph, because she's such a good friend.

Ferrite Belhadj: Alice Marques. She won't be very useful but we'll laugh a lot.

Alice Sombath: Vicki Becho, because she's the one I get along with the best. Even if we won't survive very long on the island, I think our last days will be fun.

Laura Benkarth: I would take my German teammates, because I can talk [in] German to them, of course. And then maybe Vanessa [Gilles], because she also tries to speak German sometimes.

#all good love stories start in the rain #danielle van de donk #vanessa gilles #perle morroni #christiane endler #Ellie carpenter #Maeline mendy #ferrine belhadj #Alice sombath #Laura benkarth #delphine cascarino #cascarino gets an honorable mention because I don't think people know that about her

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degreeofdisorder · 9 months

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red white & royal blue (2023) live reaction

CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS?

PRINCE OF ENGLAND'S HEARTS

THE AMERICAN PRINCE HENRY KDLFJSKGJDK

immediately grabbing a glass of champagne lmao

WHEN THE REVOLUTION HAPPENS lmao Henry my LOVE

alex is literally the dumbest idiot in the planet lmfao

oh he's DRUNK drunk oh my fucking god

alexander

I KNEW HENRY WAS GOING TO CORRECT ALEX ON THE composer

IN YOUR CASE ITS RATHER INEVITABLE I'm losing my whole ass mind dksjfkdjf

THEYRE SO STUPIDKSKFJSLFJSLGJDLGKDLGKDLGKDLGIDLFK

NOKSLFJDLFJDLFJDLFK

oh that was SO FUCKIN GOODKFKDJFKDJFKDJF

MAYBE HE CAN HOST THE CORRESPONDENTS DINNER NEXT YEAR - oh I'd be DOWN

not sunshine of my heart

ALEX'S SELF DEFENSE PILLOW

AND I ONCE SAW MITCH MCCONNELL EATING A BANANA

WHAT IF I SET MYSELF ON FIRE SJFKDJFLDJGKDJG

no one in their right mind would give you a gun

AMY'S DOG IM DUIGNKFJGLFJGKFJG

oh my fucking god

they're so fucking FUNNY

our first clip now here we are

alex is such an asshole I'm dying

god that is a PERFECT casting

"white, blonde and british" is a god tier of a line idc

THE FREESTYLE RAPS

VICKY SKFJSLGJDLGJDLGKFLF

IT MEANS YOU GOT GOOD TASTE ALEX

did alex just look at henry's lips WHORE

such a vast mental and emotional space in your head

awwww ALEX BABY

OH HE'S POUTING

NOT A SRRAWBERRY ALEXANDER KDFKDKGJDLGK

THEN KILL ME AND I WON'T HAVE TO GO

LATER SHAAN

WORKING CLASS CHIP OFF YOUR SHOULDER

oh?

NOT THE STICKERJSKFJDLGKDLGKFLGI

BUT WE WERE EVER SO CSREFUL DEAR

KMSMDJSKFJDLFKD

THAT'S SO FUCKING GOOD

holy fucking SHIT

THAT IS SO GOOD

NOPE YOU ARE JUST AS GHASTLY AS I IMAGINED

NOPE I'M HANGING UP ON YOU

oh my fucking god that was SO GOOD

can you just YEAH just make yourself at home kid

THEY WOULDN'T IF THEY KNEW HIM! L8R

fuck me nora is so hot lmao

OH THEYRE HANGING OUT

YO QUISIERA ENAMORARME PERO NO PUEDO

I cannot BELIEVE THE CINEMATIC ASS SCENE WAS SET TO GET LOW

oh that was supposed to be nora wtf that's why it was so poignant

OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK

in terms of coping I'm not coping

FUCK YOU JEFFREY

A DRINKING GAME SJFKSKFKDFJOD

FIRST 50 ROWS OF A GAGA CONCERT GAY

THE HAIR GRAB? THSTS SO SKFLDKFLD

DO NOT INTERRUPT ME

fuck nora is the love of MY LIFE

ew fuck off

oh my GOD he needs to shut up

okay I'm gonna die

AMYJDLGJDKFJFKGJFLG

NOT THE DICK JOKESJSKFJSKFKF

AGAINST A WALL

WHAT THE FJCKXKLSJFLSKF

WHAT THE FUCK THEY'RE SO HOT

I GUESS YOU COULD SAY I'M BISEXUAL

ARE THEY KNOWN FOR THEIR HOMOSEXUAL TENDENCIES

OH THEYRE SO SEXUWJAJGJDKG

AND SO AWKWARD ABOUT IT

I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLAY POLO

they're so fucking HOT

god those eyelashes are fuckin exquisite

oh okay that was obscene

there's TWO things I've been dying to ask you

it's my life - doesn't mean you have to accept it lol

henry what the FUCK

ALEXANDER WHAT

HENRY?

IM DOWNDJFDLFJLD

DEAR

TUDTNME YOU'RE IN GOOD HANDS

oh I can't breathe

oh okay I see it

oh shit okayb

oh that's so

HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT WHILE BALLS DEEP INSIDE HENRY

my god

I'm having lots of feelings

alex my fucking god

also henry is so quick to just cut right down to the chase I can't

IM LEARNING

ellen I will kill you

GET HER ALEX

GET HER ASS ALEEEEEEEXXXXXXXX

THE EMAILS

DON'T THEY HAVE NAPKINS IN TEXAS

the cgi is so bad lajdkdjfkfjfkfjfkfkf

love the romcom vibes

BUENAS NOCHES CABRON

EVER BEEN ON GRINDR - ONCE UNSUCCESSFULLY

oh my god they're fucking precious as hell

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

FUXKFJDKFJDKGJ

INKNEWNITKDLGJDKGJDLGJG

HENRUML

HENRY MO

GOOD MORNING

OH AND I TOLD MY SISTER

TECHNICALLY IM THE SPARE

THAT NO WAS IMMEDIATE

HENRY'S FACE

ellen's face of realization sjfldjfldjflf

oh that's

OG MY GOD

OGKDLGK NOT TRUVADA

I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY GIVE YOU THE NUCLEAR CODES

OG THEYRE SO FUCKING CUTEN

HENRÑWAS READING OLS

NOOOODJFKDJGKFJGKGJGKGK

alexander what's with that face are you in love or what

oh oscar no

y'all ARE a stupid idea

SHOWER TIME

I SERIOUSLY DOUBT THAT

oh my god alex

ALEXANDER NO

oh my god

HENRY'S FACE

AND IT FEELS SO RIGHT

I'm gonna fucking kill myself

I'm gonna rip my tits off

beatrice love of my LIFE

HENRY'S FACE

oh he's going OFF

alex my love

oh I'm gonna kill myself

NORA YOU GIANT GENIUS

lmao I'm sobbing lmao

I'm genuinely sobbing

PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME

god I'm shaking I'm sobbing so hard

I had to pause bc i got a headache from sobbing

HE DOES HAVE ONE KEY

I'm going to cry more lol

I'm going to dehydrate

yeah I'm going to fucking dehydrate

THE CHAIN IM KILLING MYSELF

I LOVE YOU I'LL BE AS PATIENT AS YOU NEED

go win and election

yeah I'm dehydrating lmao

god what is this marley and me I can't stop crying

DAVID

NO?

ALREADY?

ALREADY?????

ALREADYDJDJSJFKDJFLD

IT'S BEEN LIKE A MINUTE I CSNTB

oh my god I'm killing that fucking piece of shit

oh my god his address

ALEX AKFLDKFKDKFLFKF

ZAHRA

LIKE A COW IN LABOR

TOUCH ME AND DIE

HEY BABY

I'LL BEEAK THE SOUND BARRIER FOR YOU

I'm going to fucking kill myself

fuck me henry is so beautiful and so brave

they're fucking gorgeous and so married and so amazing

SPEAKING OF BOYFRIENDS ON STRINGS

OG godb

please do fly to the Maldives

this was such a miscast bc i can never look at stephen fry and not be absolutely smitten

OH HE HATES PHILIP SO MUCH LMAO

oh fuck you stephen fry

OH MY GOD ALEX

HOMOSEXUAL

THSKFJSKFJDLFKD

HENRY BABY

OSCAR

oh my fucking god they're so married

oh I'm gonkacry

THEIRJNSDS

OGNKTLDLS NO THE BIKES

DARLING

DO YOU THINK ANYONE NO5ICEDJDLGJDLGJDLGKDI

oh my god

my god I'm in tears

fuck

#rwrb livenats #rwrb spoilers

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ostianshadow · 9 months

Text

TOA Anniversary Munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: vicky (aka key or wkey)

Pronouns: she/her

Birthday (no year): jan 6

Where are you from? What is your time zone? french canadian. west coast best coast. pst.

Roleplay experience: idk since i was like 7? running around the neighbourhood w the boyz and gming our own little world of makebelieve… writing/online-wise, since around the age of 10-11 when we got a puter in the living room.

Got any pets? black kitty called cabbage i fostered and then adopted. she's no thoughts head empty and that's why she won over my other 16 foster cats. /hj

Favorite time of year: autumn-ish or spring. don't do well in the heat but sad makes winter bad.

Some interests and things you like: comics&webtoons, puzzle games (picross, sudoku, etc), ultimate frisbee, tennis, hiking, traveling

Some funfacts & trivia about you:

-prefer crepes to pancakes

-don't leave me alone with a box of ice cream sandwiches for the love of-

-past key has cumulatively drawn 500+ comic pages over the years (and misses it dearly)

-used to play ice hockey, played for bout 12 years. stopped due to injuries.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? ffxiv, zelda, tales of, undertale

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: ghost, haunter

How did you get into Fire Emblem? smash bros /j i think my bro acquired a copy of fe7 and the rest is history

What Fire Emblem games have you played? 6 through current

First Fire Emblem game: 7

Favorite Fire Emblem game: hrkkk probably 7 but super fond of sacred stones n path of radiance too

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳

lmao

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays?

- Awakening: mightve been chrom by accident n woulda been pissed about it. henry & gaius beloveds

- Fates: conquest- niles, birthright- azama, revelations- kaze

- Three Houses: was it claude or felix? idk but claude is def why i started w deer haha

- Engage: louis and lapis i married both that's my story and im sticking to it

Favorite Fire Emblem class: thief or mage

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? probably an archer, or mage. miss me w close combat

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? hmm… i wanna say deer but probably beagles

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? lyn. long distance pew pew goes brrrrr

How did you find TOA? kept seeing it on twitter from ol ferp mutuals and eventually caved

Current TOA muses: hector, matthew, azama

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? ewan. some days i think i could.

Have you had any other TOA muses? florina, henry

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? prickly, maybe. in general muses that allow me to explore… ewan is more outgoing than i will ever be, but lets himself feel petty or jealous. hector is brash, but struggling with an uncomfortable and unexpected weight on his shoulders. azama invites conflict like he needs it to breathe, while ive typically been averse to conflict. florina is timid but trying to grow stronger for her friends (and herself, she comes to realize). henry is… an oddball, idk how to describe what draws me to writing him. change of pace maybe? requires thinking outside the box with his unique worldview. i dont tend toward angst but matthew is a good output for it if im feelin it haha.

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? i think i like. when threads start to come together. yknow in stories when you can start referring to things that have happened? and you're like "woah wait i know what that's referring to!!"

when you manage to reach a shared history ig? i know im p slow re. writing but i cherish the bonds and overarching/intertwined stories my muses wind up with. people you meet touch your life in ways you might not immediately fathom…

Favorite TOA-related memory: lots of lock & key justice shenanigans… bunker … enjoyed unscripted a whole heck of a lot as well

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔 T-O-A. sounds fancier to spell it out haha

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day that you’d like to share? 😉 felix, ike, kaze, serra, sain, naesala, ingrid, eldigan, bramimond, lethe, shinon, kliff… not so much delusions as "might be fun to explore…" – and i wouldn't trade our current reps of the above for the world ✌️

#munday #arrives a day late w starbucks #the formatting is so scuffed *shakes moblr*#thanks neffi for the meme

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staygoldwriting · 2 years

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Hello there, hope you are feeling good today 💜

So, I did some thinking (surprising) and I decided that Steve is not book smart but people smart. Like, I am sure he is not even aware of how good he is at reading people (Vicky example) or sometimes he just doesn't have enough knowledge on things to read them properly (robin example) but I think that's why he is such a great Babysitter™ - teens are hard to get along with and he does that really well. Anyway I would like to request a fic with Steve where the reader listens to him talking about someone and how he thinks they feel or something like that and she calls him smart and Steve is just, shocked to say the least. Hope it's not too much have a great day or night! (Don't know your time)

Hi!! I am feeling well today, but very tired! I played in the rain for the first time in a while 💕 I hope you're well too, and that this fic makes you happy! As always, I had a blast writing it 🤗 Please show love and support, friends!! ❤️✨

Word count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff, meeting the parents trope, romantic Steve x reader

For @maltinonka 😘

🤔 Real Genius

“Okay, so remember that my dad likes football but hates baseball. If my mom offers seconds, always say yes, but take small portions because she’ll keep offering throughout the night, and she thinks it’s rude if you take too much. And also, my brother may or may not be nice, he’s sort of picky like that, and he’s heard a lot about you from the kids at Hawkins High, so just-”

“Y/N,” Steve said, turning to you and holding your hands. “I promise you that everything is going to be just fine. Don’t forget that I am a multi-talented and charismatic being,” he boasted, making you groan.

“Steve, seriously!”

“I understand, baby, and I’ll take this seriously, I swear. But I don’t want you all nervous and stuff,” he said, wiggling your arms around, making you giggle. He kissed your forehead gently, then walked up to your parents’ front door. When Steve knocked, your younger brother, Patrick, opened the door.

“So, meet the parents night,” he said dryly, looking Steve up and down.

“Hey, man, I’m Steve,” he said, nodding to your brother.

“Patrick. Come in. Don’t forget to take your shoes off.”

“Hello, brother,” you teased, giving him a small hug, which he returned.

“Y/N, hi, sweetie!” your mom said as she walked into the living room. “And you must be Steve, hello!” she exclaimed, pulling Steve into a hug.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N, you have a lovely home” he smiled, then winked at you.

“Oh, you are too kind! Y/N, your father is out on the deck finishing up the grilling,” your mom said sweetly, gesturing to the door. You two walked out to see your dad singing loudly to his music as he flipped burgers.

“Hi, Dad,” you said, startling him.

“Oh! Hey there, pumpkin,” he smiled, then looked at Steve. “And who is this strapping young man?”

“I’m Steve Harrington, sir, your daughter’s boyfriend,” he said, offering his hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington,” your dad grinned. “Do you grill?”

“I do every once in a while,” Steve smiled.

“Good for you! I can’t convince ol’ Patrick to learn. He prefers to listen to music and draw. Not like my tunes though! He listens to that new heavy stuff.”

“I have a friend who listens to that music, he’s a good guy,” Steve encouraged.

“It’s always given me the heebie jeebies,” your dad shuddered, making Steve chuckle.

-🤔-

As you all settled on the deck to eat, you all had normal conversation. Steve was right-- everything was flowing pretty smoothly, and your anxiety soon melted away. You did, however, feel bad for Patrick; every single one of your dad’s comments might as well have been “I wish Steve were my son instead of Patrick!” Everything about Steve was what your dad envisioned as the “perfect guy.” Little did your dad know, Patrick was sinking.

“So, Patrick, your dad says you like metal music?” Steve asked suddenly, making Patrick look up in surprise.

“Uh, yeah? I’m guessing you don’t,” Patrick muttered.

“I don’t usually, but my friend Eddie does, and he plays some stuff for me. Like, actually though. He’s in a band. And he’s pretty good, I like the songs his band plays.”

“What do they play?” Patrick asked, his voice and posture perking up.

“Well, Eddie’s favorite is Black Sabbath, but they also play Scorpions, Metallica, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Mötley Crüe, stuff like that.”

“I like Iron Maiden,” Patrick said.

“I haven’t heard much of their stuff, but I guess my favorite would be ‘Run to the Hills’. What about you?”

“It’s um, ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’.”

“Woah, that’s a commitment! I’m sorry, but I had to cut Eddie off on that one,” Steve chuckled. “Have you ever drawn scenes from it?”

“Yeah, actually, I have,” Patrick smiled.

“I didn’t know that, honey,” your mom said quietly but happily.

“I’ve seen them,” you commented. “They’re really good. I’m sure Steve would love to see them, Patrick.”

“Would you?” Patrick asked excitedly.

“You bet I would!” Steve grinned. “I suck at drawing, so it’s nice to see some decent talent once in a while.”

“Hey, I draw you pictures all the time!” you argued, play-hitting Steve’s arm.

“I rest my case,” Steve smirked at Patrick, who was looking as giddy as ever.

-🤔-

After dinner, Patrick showed Steve all his drawings, and Steve commented on every single one, asking questions and showing lots of interest. Some of the drawings were paired with songs, so you and Steve sat on Patrick’s bed as he played them, giving you both a slideshow with his drawings. Neither of the boy’s smiles faded, and by the end of the evening, Patrick had gained a new, not to mention incredibly unlikely, friend.

“Thank you for everything, Mr. and Mrs. L/N. The food was delicious and the company was wonderful. It’s been a pleasure meeting you both. You too, Patrick,” he said, mussing up Patrick’s hair.

“It was our pleasure, Steve, you are welcome back anytime,” your mom said, giving you both hugs. “I’m very happy Y/N has chosen you to be her boyfriend.”

“I guess same here,” Patrick smirked. “But only if you take me to a Corroded Coffin gig!”

“It’s 18 and over kiddo, so you’ll have to wait for next month’s show,” you said.

“Dude, it’s gonna be your 18th birthday next month?” Steve exclaimed. “Oh, that’s our plan, you, me, Y/N, we’ll go to Eddie’s gig and then we’ll have pizza and cake after, it’ll be a blast! You’ll love Eddie, right, Y/N?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” you smiled. “Whatya think, Patrick?”

“Are you guys serious? That sounds like the best birthday ever!” Patrick said, giving you a tight hug. He hesitated as he looked at Steve.

“Bring it in,” Steve smirked as he patted Patrick’s back.

“Well, we’re off. I love you guys,” you said, and walked out with Steve.

-🤔-

“I can’t believe you,” you said, kissing Steve as you got in the car.

“I told you, I’m a genius with parents.”

“No, with Patrick! I couldn’t believe how well you two connected.”

“He’s a cool kid,” Steve smiled. “And I could tell by the way he acted at first that he thought I was still some no-good varsity guy, so I had to prove him wrong. And I could tell that he and your dad aren’t the best of friends, but it’s only because, if I may say so, your dad hasn’t taken the time to get to know him. Your dad doesn’t realize that being a guy involves stuff he doesn’t do, which I totally get, when I have kids, I’d love to have a mini me, but if they’re different like Patrick, they should know it's alright. Patrick is a great kid, and I don’t feel like he’s told that often. I mean, did you see how he lit up when I mentioned metal music? He’s not standoffish, he’s just a kid who’s dying to share his interests, but he doesn’t know enough people who are interested in them!”

“You, Steve Harrington, are so, so smart,” you said, kissing his cheek tenderly.

“What?” he chuckled. “I’m not smart at all. You’re the smart one, Miss College.”

“Steve, you met my brother for the first time today, and within two hours, you’ve got him hugging you and sharing his hobbies and passions with you. He shared more with you today than he’s shared with me in his life.”

“Well, sure, he’s an easy guy to read,” Steve shrugged.

“No, he’s not. Baby, you’re incredibly emotionally intelligent. I can’t remember the last time you didn’t understand how I felt or I had to tell you what I needed. You are amazing at reading people!”

“Well, gosh, thanks!” Steve smiled. “I’m really flattered, thank you for saying that,” he said, kissing your hand.

“Of course, and I’m sorry I haven’t said it before,” you replied. “You’re the best.”

Steve tapped the wheel a bit and smiled to himself. At a stoplight, he turned to you suddenly with an incredulous smile.

“You really think I’m smart?”

“Brilliant.”

Steve smiled to himself and continued driving. He laughed to himself a couple times, clearly feeling very giddy.

“You know, you should tell Keith you think I’m smart. I always tell him I deserve a promotion because I can just look at someone and know what movie they’d like. If he heard it from you, he’d believe you.”

“Next time I’m there, I’ll definitely tell him, but don’t waste all your time on dinguses like him,” you smirked.

“Yeah, I’m too smart for him,” Steve said triumphantly. “But you should also tell Henderson. Knock him down a level, let him know he’s not always the smarter one.”

“I will be sure to tell him,” you smiled, then leaned over to kiss Steve’s cheek. “I love you, my genius.”

“I love you too.”

💜

Taglist: @alphashadows @tillkummer @mlle-ayka @fanficfanatic204 @gttrgrrl @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @efvyqrs @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @simpingoverfictionalppl @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @hollandcomics @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @elizabeth-or-lily @tooobsessedsstuff @srapalestina @hawkinshottie86 @munsongalblogs @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-tittie @middle--fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey

#staygoldwriting #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #stranger things steve #steve harrington x rea #steve harrington x fem #stranger things season four #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things

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panicatthediaz · 1 year

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Ghost That We Know

AN: So, I had a random thought two days ago which spawned a whole ass scene in my head. So here is said scene. This is 994 words of something, don't ask me, I'm not sure either. I make no promises on follow-ups to this, but I have ~thoughts~. This is not a Halloween ficlet, btw, just good ol' canon compliance :) Title after Mumford & Sons of all things.

My first Stranger Things fic/ficlet!

——

It was a fucking nightmare. It took months for the monsters to start coming through the gate, but now there were just too damn many, which is truly not the way Robin expected to go, but it seems her life changed course back in '85 when—

Well, that didn't really matter now, what mattered were the Molotov cocktails she kept having to carry despite already tripping on the uneven asphalt twice.

At least Vickie agreed to stay with the kids...

"You guys there yet?" Dustin questioned through the walkie. At least he didn't sound as exasperated as Mike. "The radio has been silent for a while."

"Great," Steve muttered, holding the axe that Hopper had given him before they split with a white-knuckled grip.

"We're almost there," Nancy replied, walkie in one hand, shotgun in the other. "We'll probably be radio silent for a while too. We'll let you guys know when we're done."

With Will's shout to be careful, the three reached their destination: a smaller, already-closing gate. That meant whatever monster had been waiting was already through. Why the fuck didn't they use the big, seemingly permanent gates? It didn't make sense to Robin.

The area surrounding it was charred, but there were no vines. There was also no one and no sound other than the trio's own breathing and steps.

Nancy held the shotgun at the ready, and Steve handed Robin his lighter, on top of the other two she was given by Hopper and Dmitri plus the one she'd gotten for herself.

She didn't think she would go through four lighters for this, but she was glad to have them all when the first demodog came running around the corner, mouth already covered in blood.

The monster seemed to freeze for a moment before screeching and lunging at them. It was bigger than the last few they'd seen, probably close to being a proper demogorgon.

Nancy's shot pushed it back, but they'd already lost whatever element of surprise they had; other monsters wailed in reaction to the shot, the noise surrounding them.

Robin took one of the bottles in hand, the lighter mostly ready. It took, maybe, just a handful of seconds for the whole lot of Upside-Down creatures to come running from wherever the hell they'd been hiding — everywhere, really.

She lit the cloth up and tossed the first cocktail.

And It was chaos after that; the blast of Nancy's shotgun, Steve's grunts as he swung the axe at whatever didn't fall to fire and lead, the sound of glass breaking and fire igniting as Robin kept throwing the bottles.

"How many of these fuckers came through?!" Steve shouted over the squelch of hitting another demogorgon. The curse that Steve surely let out was covered by the shotgun as Nancy shot another demodog.

"Hey, guys," Robin called out, looking into the bag she had over her shoulder. "I only got two left, so you better hope this is it!"

Steve turned to face her, mouth open to say something, but the sound of breaking glass and the blur of something slamming onto him stopped him short. So much for that being it.

Nancy took a shot at the demogorgon on top of Steve, making it snarl at her, and Robin tossed her second-to-last molotov cocktail at the monster. It staggered off of him, growling, but once again it launched itself at them.

Robin quickly stepped back, just enough space between her and the demogorgon for Nancy to shoot and for a line of fire to appear between them.

She turned to the window the monster had come from, where the fire was also coming from, but the figure standing there was hard to make out.

"Keep shooting!" The man shouted, gesturing wildly toward Nancy. Something about the voice was vaguely familiar to Robin, but the creature's wail after being shot kept her from dwelling on it.

Jesus christ, this one was resilient.

Steve stood up, axe in hand once again, and he swung hard at its neck. With another wail, the monster swiped an arm at Steve, who barely avoided the claws of the still burning monster.

The man cursed loudly and creatively, dropping the flamethrower before running up to the demogorgon and reaching to take the axe in a gloved hand. He swung in the opposite direction, hitting the other side of its neck, and—

Thump.

In the ensuing, deafening silence, Robin and Nancy looked around, expecting something else to jump at them just like this one bastard of a demogorgon had. But it remained silent.

The man stared down at the monster head he'd just chopped off, and Steve stared at him, just a few feet to the side. Everyone just breathed for a moment, the remaining adrenaline fading from their systems.

"Jesus," the man chuckled, breathless, as he shook his head. Robin definitely recognized that voice now. "God, that felt good."

Now that she could actually take a look at him, she could see he was wearing all black; black jeans, black jacket, shoes, everything. He had a bandana covering most of his face, and... swimming goggles protecting his eyes, maybe. She thought it was kind of ridiculous, but it seemed effective against the Upside-Down gunk that the big gates were throwing out.

"You guys okay?" He asked, looking at each of them in turns and pausing at Nancy's still-held-high shotgun. "I promise you won't have to shoot me, Wheeler."

"Eddie?" Steve was the first to snap out of the post-adrenaline haze. He didn't take his eyes off of the man. "What the fuck?"

The man took off the bandana and goggles, and yep, that was Eddie fucking Munson, alright. His hair was shorter, there was a scar poking out from the left side of his jaw, and that excited grin looked a little feral, in Robin's opinion. But there was no mistaking it.

"Did you miss me, big boy?"

Eddie Munson was alive.

——

@benjaminrussell @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @evan-bumpkin-buckley @dijkstraspath @werelamburrito @swiftiebuckleys

#Stranger Things fic #Robin Buckley #Steve Harrington #Nancy Wheeler #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Sorry I skimped on the action moment folks I wanted to actually write it but 🤷‍♂️#The thought was that he could as well have been alive the whole time #With the way the episode ended I figured it might be as likely as anything else #WeresWriting #almost forgot my writing tag oop

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theninjazebra · 9 months

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As someone who has watched too much tv for a long time i thought i should share with the group.

TV recs for the upcoming drought:

Some of these are harder to find, the tone and quality vary wildly, they're in no specific order. I tried for not too obscure, but not too obvious. Some are still airing, some are 20 yrs old. I swear I have a life.

Slings and Arrows. Early 2000s Canadian dramedy about theatre and shakespear. Fun without being shallow, aged ok, lovely performances, great writing. nuclear grade comfort watching.

Halt and Catch Fire. 2014 - 2017, US drama. Follows four characters through the 80s tech industry. First time I got the hype around Lee Pace. S1 is ok, but nothing special, s2 is a lot more interesting but kinda goes round in a circle. S3 and 4 and some of the best tv I've ever seen.

Somebody Somewhere. This is actually a new show, but has 2 seasons out if u want a gentle but never shallow comedy. Fills my sad gay heart with joy. And if want more new tv with middle aged gays Deadloch is streaming on amazon atm.

The Expanse. Finished recently. The sci fi I've always wanted. Big and scary and wonderful and pew pew pew space battles and adventure. Balances the grim with a surprising amount of hope? Has repeated themes of redemption. Also a whole book series should u need more.

This Is England. UK drama. A film and 3 mini series set from 1983 through to 1990. Grim, sad af, also funnyand sweet? And characters that I love. The start of my undying love for Vicky McClure. Big ol CW for violence, sexual violence, and era specific racism (esp the first film). Very good, but very hard tv.

Kingdom. 2014. Can be a pain to find because so many shows are called Kingdom. About MMA fighters having drama. Also families, mental health, addiction, etc. Excellent performances. Both a very dumb and very sweet, painful show.

Animal Kingdom. Legit only watched it because I was searched Kingdom posts and AK was out around the same time. Awful family having drama and heists. Adaptation of an Aussie film into a southern California TV show. Kind of a mess? but very compelling mess.

Obligatory Succession (Kardashians for annoying people, aka me. I am the annoying person. this is my perfect tv show), The Bear, (hospo stress and family grief show) and Severance (people talk about workplace horror, but tbh it also gives big mega church horror vibes too)- new shows that live up to the hype, esp if you like sad people. I don't think they really need recs, but i really liked them.

The Thick of It. 2000s UK political comedy? Tragedy? Though these days it looking fuckin utopian compared to UK politics now. Feels a bit like a partial villain origin story for Succession. I like how sad and broken hearted it is.

Outrageous Fortune. 2000s nz dramedy that is the source of my love of family crime drama. Aged badly in places, but still very good character drama. Also, for The Boys fans, Antony Starr at his absolute best. It's a big nostalgia fest for me now. Cheryl West is a forever fav.

Justified. 2010 - 2016ish. i'm lazy i'm not looking stuff up. Yes a cop show, yes a dad show, but also rock solid tv writing and timothy olyphant in a hat. I've watched it so many times, and every time it rewards. and yes, am watching Justified City Primeval atm.

White Collar. A dumb, total fantasy art crimes and capers show. Shit, but if you need to not think and also have Matt Bomer do a shirtless painting montage for vague plot reasons then oh boy there is no other.

Being Human UK. A ghost, a vampire and a werewolf share a flat. it's sweet and agonising and 10+ years later I still love these characters so much.

Legion. 2017 - 2019. Why make tv comic adaptations that are trying for realistic and boring? When they could all be like this? Why make anything that isn't as visually interesting as this?

Doom Patrol - same for doom patrol - superhero tv that cut out the boring bits and just went for the weird and painful. I read a couple of random doom patrols years ago and was so surprised and delighted and loved them. the tv show has the same effect.

The Boys. new, and still going, as far as I know. but two kiwi leads means under nz law i have to be a fan? also it's awful, pulpy vicious popcorn viewing. appeals to the shithead 12 yr old in me. yes, it's vicious anti corporate thing is deeply ironic for an amazon show, but considering amazon saved the expanse with no sense of irony at all I figure take all their money and keep yelling.

Preacher. Another comics adaption. The Boy's weirder, less obscene, more disturbing cousin. Tulip is another forever fav tv character.

Banshee. Continuing the tradition of heth and i starting dumb Dude TV and then getting overly attached. kinda pulpy trash, but if you can stomach the violence it's surprisingly good.

All Star Treks. I love them so much. They're so weird, and uneven, and dumb, and they're all the best and I love them.

One season wonders -

Trust. about the John Paul Getty III kidnapping. also about italian countryside.

State of Play. UK. the tv show, not the film.

I dunno. I could do a whole separate post for sit coms and brit coms and the weirder, more obscure shows and movies, but ffs this is so long.

#tv recs #see my justification is that i can draw while watching #this is my list so i doubt everything on it would appeal to anyone else #but some of it might #i fuckin love me some dramedy #i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about tv #as a medium and it's role in my weird life

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simply-eno · 1 year

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Superstition: A Short Story

Chapter 4. Ancestry’s Horror

The scene was red. William and Billy looked upon the sickly mess with horror and worry. Bits of the horses were spread out across the small, grassy field, and blood covered the muddy ground. They stood against the fence in silence; Billy tried to hold back the retching that inched up his throat at the smell of the iron in the air.

“What could have done this?” Billy whispered, his eyes welled with tears. The mare that had become more of a family pet than a workhorse laid in a pool of her own blood, her stomach ripped open and exposing her innerards. The two young colts were torn limb from limb, and their long faces shredded. “This isn’t the work of wolves, is it?” His voice was a shiver in the dawning sun.

“No,” William replied flatly. He stared hard, looking for any tracks, but in the bloody clay and dirt, he could find no identifiable prints. Wolves wouldn’t have ripped open the stomach of the mare and ate nothing. A mountain lion wouldn’t have torn the legs from the colts, but he couldn’t leave his son without an answer, and a lion would be a probable answer that wouldn’t bring upon too many more questions. “Likely, a cougar, boy.”

Billy frowned, and protest on his lips, but before he could say anything against his father’s answer, Gale came running up to them.

“Father!” Her voice was shrill with panic, and William sprinted the rest of the way to his daughter, when she collapsed into his chest in tears.

“What, Gale? What is it?” Billy asked, running to catch up with their father.

“The cows!” She screamed into William's chest, pointing towards the barn.

“Go back to the house, you two,” William’s voice was hard. “Bill, grab your brother, the rifles, and meet me by the barn. Gale, you and your sister are to stay in the house.” He waited for his children to be back in the house before he turned and jogged to the barn to find a similarly gorey scene.

The stench in the barn was fresh, and thick with an unusual musk: a mixture of manure, animal, stale hay, and rot. The small latch gates of the stalls had been ripped from the hinges, and one of the center support beams had been busted through; a cow laid beside it with large splinters of wood protruding from its side. Intestines of the poor, gentle beasts were slung over various rails and hooks, like grotesque party decorations. William’s stomach churned, and the back of his throat burned as he choked down the vomit that was climbing. It was unfortunate that Gale had been the one to find this gruesome mess. William had done his best to protect his girls from the harsh reality of slaughter, but this was worse than anything that even he had seen.

William entered the barn, stepping carefully over the viscera and pools of blood. He needed to see if there were any tracks left inside; this was clearly not the work of an animal, and there had to be something. Anything that would identify the culprit.

“Father!” Vicky’s voice called from the entrance of the barn. William spun around and walked quickly over to his sons.

Branch stepped off the train with her large carpet bag in her hand. The air of the city smelled of gas and smoke, and death. She hated coming to the city for her appointments with the old man, but she enjoyed her time with him. While the old man was not family, he was the closest thing that she could claim as such. He was waiting for her, his grimace twisting into a smile as he greeted her.

"It's good to see you again, Ahanu," Branch said, speaking in her native tongue. "You look well."

Ahanu chuckled as he pulled the young and beautiful woman into his embrace, but his smile and merriment at their reunion soon vanished as he smelled something upon her collar. He released the hug abruptly and gave her a slight frown; deep in his wrinkles and far in his eyes, he could feel the sense of something wicked and unnatural in his presence.

"What's wrong?" Branch questioned, seeing the look of unsettledness in the old man's face.

"Something is amiss back home for your husband."

Ahanu and Branch quickly hurried out of the train station and through the city. A shiver ran through Branch’s thick and sturdy body; the years of working the farm with her husband had strengthened her, but the unsettling fear made her weak.

They entered the small shop of oddities that smelled thick of dust and formaldehyde; jars of conjoined twin pigs and deformed demons of nature, feathers of unknown birds, semi-precious stones cut roughly, sprigs of herbs and sticks of sage, and such things that made the common Christian woman walk away quickly in fear, mumbling about witchcraft and heresy. The shop felt like home to Branch.

Branch ran her finger over the heavy wooden counter as Ahanu shimmied past the shelves, his hunched back knocking over a small bowl of bones. The knuckled pieces fell to the ground, and chill ran through the both of them as Branch moved to look closer at the unfortunate telling.

The deer knuckle had shattered, and the eagle sternum had turned to dust. Ahuna and Branch looked dismally upon the foretold deaths.

"What are we going to do?" Branch asked, and leaned down to pick up the pieces.

"We must speak with the father," Ahuna replied as he grabbed Branch by the shoulder and led her to the back of the shop.

The ethereal atmosphere seemed to suffocate Branch as she entered the small back room. The dim gas lamps flickered, causing their shadows to dance eerily on the wall. There was a small round table in the center, covered with the skin of a black bear, and three chairs sat covered in a thin layer of dust. A few paces behind the table was an inlet of the wall, and inside was a deer skull cleaned and sun bleached, feathers and large pieces of obsidian cut like gems were wrapped in leather, and hung from the jaw. Ahuna sat down and gestured to Branch to take the seat across from him. She carefully moved, trying her best to not disturb the spirits that she could feel gathering around Ahuna and the table.

“Sit among us,” Ahuna said, gesturing to the still air, and the third, empty chair moved back with a loud screech against the wood floor, and then jumped forward to the edge of the table. Ahuna grimaced, “you could be more polite.”

There was an ethereal chuckle, haunting in its absence of physical presence, echoing softly in Branch’s ear, and it sounded familiar. It belonged to a man that she had never met. She had heard stories, more like myths, of the man known as Father. He was not a paternal relative, nor any kind of relative that could be linked with blood, but he was Father.

“Branch, child of the whispering willow and the wind, speak now of your concerns,” the disconnected voice spoke; slow and deep, warm and welcoming, full of love.

“Father, harbinger of the plateau, chief of the river, and spirit to follow in the world beyond; my family may be in danger of a creature I have no bearing to stop,” her strong voice quivered, as if she were a small and timid girl begging for help. “I fear for my husband and my children.”

Ahuna looked over at the empty chair, carefully choosing his words.

“Father,” he spoke, confident in his voice, “the bones foretold of death, far greater than that of just family.”

The air shifted, growing even heavier, and the lamps flickered. Branch felt it hard to breathe, and looked nervously to Ahuna, who sat with his cold eyes fixed on the chair.

“We are not asking for mere guidance on the issue, we are asking for intervention on behalf of the people who cannot defend themselves against the unknown.”

There were more voices chattering now in the room, some whispered of death and danger, others wept without tears, and Branch fidgeted in her chair. Father’s familiar and warm tone quieted the others as he began to speak once more.

“And what is it that you would like me to do? Meddle with the lives of those that are not of my descent? Where are their prayers to me? Their begging for forgiveness, their pleas to my power? Branch, child of the whispering willow and the wind, this is not a matter that I can just idly get involved with. It would be best to let the matter rest, and the world will find balance once more.”

With that, the room fell dead silent, and the air no longer seemed heavy. Ahuna looked solemnly at Branch.

“What are we to do? If Father will not intervene, we stand no chance against what may be out there, preying upon my family.” Tears began to well in Branch’s eyes, but she stopped herself from crying. “I’ll not have my family murdered by ghost stories and fables.”

She stood briskly, and Ahuna reached for her hand, taking it gently in his aged fingers. She looked down upon the withered old man, and sighed.

“We have but one other option, and one that we both know may not have as peaceful an outcome.” Ahuna stood and walked over to the deer shrine, gently grabbing it by the antlers and pulling it from its rest. He placed it on the table, its black and empty eyes stared at Branch. The room filled with a heavy presence, like breathing through a damp cloth, and the smell of rot started to fill the air.

“An unpeaceful option is all we may have to protect my family. I will not lose everyone for the second time in my life,” Branch spoke stiffly.

William stood stalk still against the cold breeze that was blowing in the morning sun. His sons were chattering quietly behind him as he stared at the mess inside the barn.

“Papa?” Vicky’s voice whispered, “What did this?”

William shook his head and turned to face his two boys. “Go and get your sisters and pack up the truck. You’re all going to town.”

Billy opened his mouth to protest, but saw the look of fear and stern fatherly love in the older man’s eyes. He handed the rifle to his father and grabbed his younger brother by the arm, leading him back to the house. Vicky was less compliant, and argued with his brother as they walked, his protests lingered in William’s ears as he gripped tightly the butt of the gun.

The early morning slowly drifted to mid as William directed his four children on where they were to go when they got to the town. William handed Billy a 20 dollar bill and some small change. It would be more than enough to cover whatever expenses they would face at the inn and get them some fresh grub from a sit-down restaurant, if they wanted.

“Pa, what are you going to do staying out here by yourself?” June asked from the truck.

“Well, I reckon I’m going to kill whatever killed the horses and the cows,” William chuckled, trying to relieve their worried looks. “I’ll be fine, now when you get to town, go ahead and try calling your mother. The name of the shop that she does her appointments at is written in the bible, so make sure you tell the operator that.”

He kissed the girls’ foreheads and hugged his boys and bid them farewell down the road. He watched as they drove down the driveway and turned at the fork before he turned to the house and began his preparations for the long nights without his family by his side.

Our mother’s voice trailed off, listening intently to the night’s chorus of silence. Her green eyes flickered in the fire’s light, and then she snapped her head dramatically to her left hand that held the empty beer can.

“Perhaps, that is enough for the evening,” she spoke distantly.

My older brother groaned and sat back in his busted campseat, nearly falling over. “But, mom! It just started to get good!”

“What does Granny Branch mean by ‘an unpeaceful option’?” My sister asked, leaning forward in her seat and poking the fire with a stick, disrupting the bottom embers.

My mother mirrored her actions. “There are gods that are better left alone, and there are gods that are better off forgotten. Some will ask for a price few are willing to pay to protect even themselves, let alone others.”

The man sitting next to my mother stood up and grunted. He grabbed the beer cans and the butts of the cigarettes from each of us before motioning to the tents. The moon was high above us now, nearing midnight, and it was best that we got some sleep.

I laid restless in my tent, my sleeping bag suffocatingly tight around my face as I listened to the silence that surrounded the campsite. I huffed and pushed myself out of the cramped bag and unzipped the tent-door. Crawling out onto the dirt and into the night. I sat there in front of my tent and stared at the moon and stars. I could hear twigs snapping far in the distance and the sound of hooves in the soft earth moving further into the woods.

“Emmy!”

I snapped my head to the sound of my name being called from the treeline. My pulse started to pound in my ears.

“Emmy?”

I got up from my knees and stared hard at where the voice was coming from. I knew better than to follow the voice, and I wondered if I should wake my mother.

“Emerald.”

The voice turned sickly sweet, like saccharine wine, and I could see a pale hand reaching from around a tree.

“Emerald,” the voice called once more, sounding closer though the hand never moved from behind the tree.

“What do you want, thief of voices?”

“Emerald.”

#short story #horror #mild suspense #fiction #writing #long prose

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