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tabbedtabby · 4 days

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good luck, babe! | chapter 2

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)

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When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.

You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?

You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.

You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.

After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.

“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.

“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.

You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.

You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.

“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.

“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.

“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.

“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”

You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”

“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.

“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”

You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.

“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.

Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.

“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.

Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.

You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.

She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.

Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.

Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.

“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.

“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.

“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.

“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.

“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.

Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.

You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.

Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.

Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?

After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.

This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.

“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.

“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.

Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.

You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.

Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.

“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?

“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.

“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.

“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.

“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.

“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.

“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.

#mean girls #mean girls x reader #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george 2024 #mean girls 2024 x reader

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whydoeseveryonewanttobangchan · 1 year

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🥃 Guess I’ll have to find something else to do with my mouth… 🥃

✎ Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

✎ Genre: Smutty smut smut smut

✎ Summary: Chan did not want to go to karaoke night, but good god is he thankful he did.

✎ CW: !!!Sewerslide joke!!!, drinking, swearing, random hookup, public makeout, oral sex, unprotected sex (please don’t fuck a stranger without a condom), rough sex, nipple play, choking, teensy daddy kink

✎ Word count: 2,804

✩ The song is Lovesick by BANKS, listen if you’d like 😈 ✩

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Ice meets upper lip when Chan throws his glass back to get the last drops of his drink. He hasn’t been working on this one long, but the whiskey’s been watered down by the melting cube — it may have come watered down from the bar, to be honest.

Regardless, it’s his fourth drink and he’s buzzed enough that it doesn’t matter. And on top of that, he’s bored.

“Want another?” Minho shouts over the loud backing track and off-key, wailing vocals.

“Naur, I’m about ready to head out, I think,” Chan yells back.

They swore karaoke night was Tuesday, but apparently, it’s Wednesday. Chan just wanted to go home; Minho convinced him to stick it out. But the lights are too bright and the singers are too drunk and he’s never been more ready to leave a bar in his life.

Minho’s still nursing drink #2 and scanning the room with his dark eyes. It’s the usual crowd, and Chan lost interest in meeting anyone new around the same time that one guy absolutely butchered Someone Like You by Adele. And this rendition of We Don’t Talk About Bruno has him ready to blow his brains out.

“Oi, I’m gonna get some air,” Chan says, gesturing toward the door with his thumb. “Meet me outside when you’re ready to go, yeah?”

Minho nods in reply and turns his attention back to a group of girls huddled by the stage.

Chan pats his friend on the shoulder and heads to the door — and sweet relief for his eyes and ears — skillfully weaving through the crowd as he goes. His hands meet the cold metal of the push bar but pause as soon as he hears it.

“Please call me your baby, baby, baby.”

It’s a new song, a new girl. Your velvety voice quite literally stops him in his tracks.

“Look how long that you have kept me waiting.”

He turns around, almost in a trance, and moves in the direction of that beautiful sound.

“Oh, I know your love before I kissed you.”

Chan joins the crowd circling the stage. He’s not the only one absolutely transfixed right now.

“And now you have only made me miss you.”

It’s not only the way you’re singing, it’s everything about you. The way your long hair drapes over your bare shoulders, the way your hips sway back and forth with the slow beat, the way you’re gripping that microphone…

“Come get me. Come love me, baby, come love me.”

The magnetic pull between you is impossible to fight, and Chan’s pushing through the crowd to get right up to the stage now. It’s not dense, but moving past bodies requires some effort and even more apologies, and he’s not nearly as smooth with it as he was just a minute earlier.

“Ooh, aah, cause I'm lovesick, and I ain't even ashamed.”

His dark eyes travel up your bare legs, and he’s not ashamed either. Any anxiety he would’ve felt in this moment of obvious adoration has been numbed by the alcohol.

Luckily for you, the lights are right in your eyes and you can’t see any of your audience, including the handsome stranger whose gaze is fixed on your thighs.

“And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets.”

Warm blood rushes to Chan’s cock, filling it up and stretching his jeans in seconds. The thought of you in his sheets…

“Would you be down to spend all your time with me?”

He absolutely would. And he stands there, almost eerily still, for the rest of the song. Head entirely empty of everything but thoughts of the siren in front of him.

“Cause I'm lovesick.”

You finish the song smoothly, but you have no idea how your friends convinced you to get up there in the first place. You’re nowhere near drunk enough for this, and you have every intention of immediately booking it to the bathroom to hide.

Lights dim as you take a tiny bow and step off the platform. You set off on a clear path to the restrooms before a big, broad stranger cuts you off.

His coffee-flavored eyes are wide and his lower lip is clenched between his teeth, and he just stares at you. It’s so intense, and if he weren’t possibly the most beautiful human you’d ever laid eyes on, it would be incredibly unsettling.

“Uh, excuse me…” you say, attempting to walk around him. But he grabs your wrist.

“I’m sorry, I… uh,” he stutters, staring down at your hands. Even he’s surprised at his urgency. What the fuck is he doing?

“I’m so sorry. I’m Chan,” he says, his firm grip on your arm disappearing before he continues. “You were, you are… wow.”

Eyes meet again, and his cheeks are flushed. But after that performance — and whatever the hell this is — yours are, too.

“Oh, thanks. I’m y/n,” you reply, finishing just before the next singer starts his assault on your ear drums.

You both wince, and his big lips turn down into a scowl. But his expression softens again when he not-so-slyly glances down to your chest and back up.

“You’re really beautiful, you know?” he asks, his husky voice straining to be heard over the music. “You here alone?”

Chan’s trying his best to feign confidence, but his heart is pounding. He hasn’t done anything like this in so long and you’re so sexy and he’s so… dizzy.

“Wow, straightforward, huh? I’m with friends,” you say, gesturing over to the huddle of girls by the bar, ready to pounce at the slightest signal of distress. “Very protective friends, clearly.”

“I can see that,” Chan answers. He rotates his hand in a small wave, but their expressions don’t change. No points to be won there. He’ll have to charm you on his own. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I don’t think you need another, honestly,” you say with a smirk. And you’re right. He’s speeding down the highway, two miles past tipsy and about to get off at drunk. But he’s also at his most confident. And that means he can say something sober Chan would never.

“Hm, you may be right. Guess I’ll have to find something else to do with my mouth.”

Your eyes narrow at him. He has this dumb smug look on his face while he waits for your reaction. The smirk only depends as more seconds pass.

“I guess I can get that drink at yours?”

Bingo.

“Shall we?”

Three texts, two attempts at calling an Uber, and one sloppy backseat saliva-sharing grope session later, you’re stumbling over each other up the stairs to Chan’s apartment.

Your hands haven’t left his body since you got in that Uber, and the same goes for his. Now you’re pulling at his hair, his shirt, his neck — anything to keep your mouths attached and get closer to privacy, to a socially acceptable place to be this feral.

Feet finally reach flat flooring and you shuffle to Chan’s apartment door. He has no clue where his keys are right now but he doesn’t particularly care. He’s focused on trapping your body between the door and him, pressing his palms into the wood and pushing his thigh between your legs.

Lips are past swollen at this point, and he’s focusing on your neck now, sucking and biting any spots that aren’t already coated in his spit. However many hickeys he’s already left on the delicate skin there — it’s not enough. And there aren’t nearly enough on your chest.

So, he heads there next, fondling one breast over your dress and nipping at your collarbones. Even if you’re only his for tonight, he’ll make sure you remember him every time you glance at your reflection for the next week.

One of your hands runs through his dark curls and the other grips the doorknob, trying to will it open. Keys are still an afterthought, though. His unoccupied hand is headed under your dress, between your legs.

He presses four fingers flat against you, and your head tips back against the door with a thud. He’s happy to discover that your panties are soaked through, and he can’t wait much longer to taste you.

If you two don’t tumble through that doorway soon, he’ll just have to take you right here in the hallway. But he’d prefer to have you laid flat, spread open, and writhing on his kitchen table. Time to find those keys.

Fingers fumble through his pockets, and of course he finds everything but what he needs. Phone, ID, cards, receipts, a condom, and more fall to the floor in his frantic search. Then, finally, keys. Fuck it, he’ll get the other shit later.

He makes quick work of unlocking the door and twisting the knob. The weight of your body pushes it open, and his hands reflexively go to your waist to keep you upright as you make your way to the table.

Chan swipes the miscellaneous papers and dishes to the floor and lifts you onto the cold wood. Lips reattach and he reaches for your pussy, slipping his fingers under the wet fabric to feel your folds.

You relax into his touch and slide your hips closer to the edge of the table. He drops to his knees and pulls you forward that extra inch to yank your underwear down your legs and onto the floor.

He sloppily sucks on your inner thighs, leaving a trail of red, swollen flesh on his way to your cunt. Once he gets there, he spits on you and dives right in to taste the combination of liquids on your sensitive skin.

Chan’s plump, pink lips are slick and saliva runs down his chin while he spreads your folds and dips in and out of you, savoring the flavor on his taste buds.

He locates your clit and prods it with a pointed tongue before flitting up and down. He alternates between targeting the sensitive bud to elicit more nectar out of you and lapping at your folds to indulge in the results of his hard work.

Chan has every intention of making you come with just his mouth, and the way you’re gripping the table and trembling and moaning makes him think that’s happening soon. And like clockwork…

“Hey, I’m… gonna…” you pant, trying your best to speak between breaths.

He doesn’t reply. He only grips your ass cheeks harder and buries his face further into you, and that’s enough.

Walls flutter around his tongue as you hit your climax, and you cry out loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He suctions his mouth against you to catch any additional arousal you have to give. It’s so sweet and tart, and he truly cannot get enough.

Your supporting arms give out and you collapse onto the table, satisfied and twitching from the aftershocks. Oh, but he’s not done with you. Not by a long shot.

Chan unzips his pants and reaches under his boxers to play with his thick cock. This is exactly what he pictured when he first laid eyes on you. Head thrown back, chest rapidly rising and falling, thighs parted, cunt dripping. What a beautiful sight.

“You want my cock, baby?” he asks, still stroking himself behind the fabric. He loves the reveal, so he’ll keep his length hidden for now.

You lift your head and lock onto his eyes.

“Please, show me.”

“I don’t know if you can handle it,” he teases.

You scoff at that pretentious shit.

“Try me, daddy.”

“As you wish, baby girl.”

He drops his underwear and unveils his veiny erection. It is impressive, but it’s even better that he knows how to use it.

His hands grip your hips, and he pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. He can’t hold back a throaty moan the first time his whole cock disappears inside you. It feels so fucking good, he forgets where he is for a second.

“Fuck me,” you hiss.

And then he’s back on Earth, pounding in and out of you at an unrelenting pace. Your legs wrap around his hips and your back arches off the table as you shudder beneath him.

Chan reaches for the straps of your dress, pulling one then the other down over your shoulders. He works the fabric down past your chest, freeing your breasts to bounce up and down with each thrust.

“Fuck…” he groans. How the hell are your tits perfect, too? The hardened peaks are just begging to be sucked, bitten, claimed.

He sacrifices a steady rhythm to put his lips on your skin again. His large frame descends so he can catch one taut nipple between his teeth. The bite isn’t too hard, but he’s pulling at the sensitive nub every time he rolls his hips.

You manage to pull enough air into your lungs to speak between moans, but he’s not sure if he heard you correctly.

“Say that again?” he urges.

“Ch-choke me.”

“Oh, fuck. Absolutely,” he growls.

His cock throbs inside you, and if he weren’t so excited about making you come again, he would’ve finished right then and there.

His huge hand engulfs your throat, pressing your neck down into the table.

“Smack me if I’m too rough, ok?” he says.

You respond with a half-hearted thumbs-up, too focused on the fire in your abdomen to think about much else.

He resumes those merciless thrusts in and out of your cunt, closing his hand around your neck just enough as he goes. He has no idea how he’s lasted this long and — as much as it pains him — he has to close his eyes in an effort to hold back his own orgasm until you find yours.

His field of vision is dark, but the sound of his balls slapping against wet flesh is hard to tune out. He can barely catch his breath and you’re whimpering and he can’t do this anymore. Good thing you can’t, either.

“Chan, I’m… don’t stop. Fuck, I’m, ohhh…” you cry.

“Me too. C-cum. Cum for me.”

He tightens his grip on your throat and jerks into you with one last powerful thrust. A choked sob escapes from your tortured throat and your walls clench around his cock, holding him there while he spills himself deep inside you. Your name is the only thing on his lips.

His fingers leave your neck and rest softly on your collarbones. His chest drops, and he lays his head on your breasts to try to catch his breath.

It takes a few minutes for the tremors to stop, but you both recover as best you can. Chan pulls out of you and disappears down the small hallway to get a towel for cleanup. You still haven’t moved when he returns, and a sly smile spreads across his lips.

“Oi, all good down there?” he chirps.

You respond with the same weak thumbs-up from earlier, making him giggle. God, he hopes this isn’t just a one-night stand.

He does his best to clean the mess, wiping his saliva from basically every inch of your skin. The towel can’t do anything for the tiny bruises, though.

Hickeys litter the flesh from your jawline all the way down to your inner thighs. And then there’s the thin outline of his long fingers on your throat. He really did a number on you, and he can only hope you won’t be too mad.

“So, still want that drink?” he asks.

“Hmm, maybe. If you’re up for it,” you mutter.

“Of course, what’s your poison? I have beer, whiskey, scotch, gin…” he says, padding over to his well-stocked alcohol cabinet.

You interrupt before he can reach the end of his list.

“I was thinking of something… else,” you purr.

He turns on his heels to re-route for the fridge, trying to remember what he has in there.

“Sure, like… watuh? Soft drink? Juice?”

He’ll run to the store for whatever it is if it’s not here. He’d do absolutely anything to get you to stay the night.

You don’t reply, and he turns again to meet your eyes. But your gaze is pointed down, aimed directly at his dick. He takes a second to process.

“Wait… you want…” he trails off and instead uses his pointer finger to gesture toward his crotch.

That same sly smile spreads across your lips this time. Jesus Christ.

Rehydration mission abandoned for the time being, he strides back to the table and climbs on top of you, propping himself up with palms placed on either side of your head.

“Ready when you are, baby.”

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azfellandco · 8 months

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Hi friend this ask is a request for you to wax lyrical about Crowley slowly dying of a poisonous dose of laudanum, because it seems That Scene is still on all our minds. <3

Godbless (they said agnostically). This is going to be a mess of a response because I have been working a lot of overtime and am pretty sleep deprived, and also because there are a lot of angles to this.

First off: you're so correct to point out that laudanum is an analgesic and not literally a poison, because I think this slots in so nicely with the pattern of stuff we see Aziraphale consume and why (food and wine, for sensual pleasure) and stuff we see Crowley consume and why (alcohol for numbing and six shots of espresso to brace himself, and now laudanum, a medical grade numbing agent, at a dosage that would have killed Elspeth had he not intervened).

To really get into this I'm going to have to talk a little about something I have a lot of approximate knowledge about: Victorian era medicine. Why I find poison sexy (maybe compelling is a better word here) is partially tied up in the Victorian era and this exact subset of knowledge, which I am going to disclaim right now as not very precise. I research stuff primarily to regurgitate it in fiction, and not for complete factual accuracy.

First off, let's take a moment to admire Crowley's prognosticative abilities once again.

Antiseptic is 25 years off, germ theory is held in disdain by the western world, but here's Anthony "that went down like a lead balloon" Crowley just trying to be helpful to this guy covered in blood.

Antiseptic was not in common medical and surgical use until the 1850s. It was pioneered by Joseph Lister, who actually worked at the University of Edinburgh, which was kind of the place to be in terms of medical breakthroughs of this time period. Before the advent of washing your hands and sterilizing surgical equipment, something like 2/3rds of surgical patients died either on the operating table or of infection afterwards. Medicine during this time period was difficult, dangerous work with a high risk of complications, and surgery was haunted by death and disease. Dr. Darymple would have administered laudanum to a patient and then strapped their limbs down and put something in their mouth so they didn't bite through their tongue before cutting into them, and even if he was a good surgeon they might have died a week later from gangrene or sepsis anyway.

It's in this world that laudanum and opium more generally got romanticized by literature and poetry. The Victorians loved opium, but the symbolism of the poppy, from which opium is derived, has been sleep and death since the classical world. My go-to example of the blending of these themes (poppies as sleep and death symbolism and this time period's interest in the classical world) is The Garden of Proserpine by Algernon Charles Swinburne, of which I will include an excerpt below:

No growth of moor or coppice, No heather-flower or vine, But bloomless buds of poppies, Green grapes of Proserpine, Pale beds of blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes Save this whereout she crushes For dead men deadly wine.

The symbolic connection between opium (and thus laudanum) and sleep and death is my strongest association with either drug. The poppies = death association is used all the time even in the modern day. See this song, Flowers, from the musical Hadestown:

Lily white and poppy red I trembled when he laid me out "You won't feel a thing," he said, "When you go down" Nothing gonna wake you up now

Poppy symbolism is doing a lot of work in this song, actually, drawing a line between virginity and death, and the flower imagery standing in for both Euridyce's sexual relationship with Hades as well as her death but I disgress.

This is my personal context for laudanum and opium. I think it's encouraged to read the sleep and death connection into both of these medicines, both by the artistic tradition that arose contemporaneously with their use and by continued references back to it in the modern day. I am thinking of the scene in Inception where the opium den they visit is full of people who go to be drugged in order to dream their lives away as just one of many other modern day examples. Opium is sleep and sleep is death.

So while the laudanum is not literally poison, I think there is cultural context in which it is possible to read it as symbolically poison, regardless of whether Crowley's not-actually-human body should be able to withstand it. I think that it is compelling to read it as such, given the above-mentioned pattern of Crowley's habits of consumption.

I've seen a lot of posts about how the next time Aziraphale and Crowley see each other after this flashback is the time Crowley asks Aziraphale to bring him holy water and Aziraphale refuses on the grounds that he won't provide Crowley with a suicide pill. While I think this says more about Aziraphale than it does about Crowley (Crowley has never struck me, by behavior or attitude, to be the kind of person who would kill themself, whereas for Aziraphale one of the worst things that could happen would be losing Crowley) there is something there, something in that tartan thermos, something in the idea that Crowley would drink his death.

There is one more angle to this, and this is going to be a bit of a reach. I once read an analysis post in another fandom about the symbolism of poison as a choice of weapon. This line will haunt me until my grave: "a man stabs, a woman poisons". Just as a sword is a phallic symbol, poison (to me) is a feminine coded way to kill another person. For more context, please read The Laboratory by Robert Browning, a poem about a woman procuring a poison to kill her husband's lover, written by another Victorian poet. Crowley dying being discorporated by self-administered poison compels me for all the reasons mentioned above but also for gender reasons. Nonbinary icon.

Crowley dying being discorporated by self-administered poison feels like it is in conversation with two events that happen chronologically later but narratively earlier: the "suicide pill" conversation and Crowley trying to wait out the apocalypse in the bar after the bookshop burned. For all intents and purposes he seems to have given up at that point and only pulls himself together because Aziraphale appears to him and proves he isn't gone gone. It makes sense as an exploration of Aziraphale's anxieties (the suicide pill convo), and the extent to which they might be justified (Crowley drinking as the world ends). It's interesting it's compelling it's symbolically rich it's consistent with characterization choices in the show.

I think realistically Crowley would keep from Aziraphale that he was in pain until he physically couldn't do so, because it would threaten the wall they've had to erect to keep each other safe to do otherwise, but in a scenario where Crowley was hurt, properly hurt, Aziraphale would find a way to excuse them because he would not stand for Crowley suffering.

Just...

The idea of Aziraphale gathering Crowley close in the dark graveyard, feeling him stumble, Crowley who is so bright and brave and beautiful reduced to clutching to Aziraphale and the pair of them trying to will him back to health the way they can choose to sober up, and failing... Crowley because by this point he's too weak, he waited too long putting up a front for Aziraphale, Aziraphale because of conflicting magic or because he's too anxious, his own personal moment of the gun shaking in Crowley's hands during the bullet catch, where he knows what he has to do but he can't do it, can't trust himself not to make it worse.

And then Crowley's body going cold, Aziraphale holding it and crying because despite knowing it's just a body and that Crowley can get another one, he failed to protect him. Crowley died for someone and Aziraphale couldn't prevent it. And the things they don't say to each other, all rushing in to fill the silence left by Crowley's stopped breath. Aziraphale whispering to him, kissing his temple, part of him wondering if he'd ever be able to do this if he wasn't already gone.

It would just be really good, okay. It would be really good.

#the resurrectionist #good omens #meta #i stayed up way too late to write this and now i am going to sleep #tw suicide #tw death

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ivesambrose · 1 year

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𝕽𝖊𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖚𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 🖤🔪⛓️

1. 2. 3.

As promised to the ones who were wronged and I mean it, severely wronged not a 'they were mean to me once' neither a 'I was the problem but I'm gonna pretend they're the villian of the story',

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ mention of bullying, abuse etc

"how badly are they gonna get fucked up after this."

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]

♦️ More pick a cards ♦️ Paid Services ♦️

Thank you for the tip 🌿

Picture 1

They were a bully weren't they?

A self righteous hero in their narrative. Someone who simply, "says it like it is." But the intentions are your downfall rather than just an act of care or 'tough love' making you second guess yourself constantly. Perhaps a gaslighter or even physically violent/would threaten you as well perhaps.

Some of you may have felt like you'll never be able to progress and move forward in your life and your plans. Some of you feel like a machine sometimes trying to prove your worth but it's never enough.

I keep hearing, "I wanna go. I wanna go. I don't belong here this isn't my place."

For you, rest assured you'll boldly venture into the unknown and succeed.

They however,

Can say goodbye to peace and balance in their life and their health. Constantly struggling internally to the point it starts showing on their face. I think some of these individuals peaked at a certain point of their lives (you know the ones who peak in highschool and think they run the show) I see them reminiscing how they looked like before or the attention they got before. I see them feeling stuck in one place and not being able to make progress. If this is someone who would bully you for your physical looks they'll have a severe glow down. If this is someone who cheated on you then they get a taste of their own medicine but worse. In some cases I'm seeing even more severe loss and maybe even trying to make amends with you because suddenly you're more successful or better off without them. I honestly see a lot of regret on their part but some of them may not have the guts to admit the same.

Picture 2

This may have either been a liar or straight up emotionally abusive and controlling. I do sense some of them have been physically or sexually abusive as well. The image I'm getting is someone treating you like their puppet or thinking they have a right over you.

Some of you may have felt or believed that you can't do better than this neither deserve better than this. They made your question your very worth and reality and you often took pity or emphatized and continued to forgive and go back to them.

I'm also seeing for some, that this could be someone who keeps you around for their convinience like you're their emotional crutch.

For you, there are is a light at the end of the tunnel you've walked out of.

For them,

Literal unseen disruptions that shake the very core of their ego, stability and power. Maybe even their career declining to nothing. Legal troubles as well and finding out that those they have trusted or considered their friends don't really care about them either. For someone so selfish and constantly stuck in their narcissistic victim mindset this would be a heavy blow and all I see them doing is throw a child like tantrum.

Picture 3

I believe you attract jealousy, envy, stalkers and maybe even people who need to match the effort you put for them but find an excuse to slack.

I believe that you are aware of your power, this awareness has come after years of being shunned, talked down on and made fun of.

You may have a list of people adding up (it's giving Kill Bill) who have literally just put you down, taken you for granted, betrayed you and it's all piled up almost because I do see a lot of you are rather forgiving or try to understand the other person.

Oftentimes you can care less because you know if someone does you wrong in any shape or form and it's unwarranted then may God help them.

I don't feel you actively seek vengeance.

You seem like a creative soul, perhaps you channel your pain into art or other things that can benefit you or others. But scars in your heart remain.

For you, I see recognition, fun and good money/stability in life.

For those who have wronged you or wish you harm,

Anxiety, the kind that feels like they are in the middle of a circus show and someone asked them to do the sword swallowing trick at gunpoint. Financial loss, having people backstab them or abandon them.

On a more personal note I see that you get the last laugh in this situation.

Few of you could also be witches? A handful of you I'm seeing. So your words could literally be hexes.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #PAC #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a picture reading #tarot readers #psychic readings #psychic reading

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ceilidho · 9 months

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Now I cant stop thinking about when Ghost eventually brings Soap over for dinner:

Gf all dolled up, looking at him all pretty, greeting him with the sweetest smile and he can’t stop his mind from wandering to the filthy pictures he has seen of you.

She cooked up something really good (babbling something about keeping her boys strong and healthy, she likes them well fed), it's A5 Wagyu steak (the best cut the butcher had to offer) obviously payed with Ghost's money. He rarely splurges on himself but when it comes to his gf and Soap he doesn’t hold back.

The dinner can go two ways:

1.Lovie seated next to Soap, across from him Ghost. Halfway through his steak he notices a slight touch to his knee, but he brushes it off not acknowledging it further. When that touch gets firmer and starts to wander up his thigh he definitely notices. His body shudders and he almost chokes on the food in his mouth (much to Ghost's enjoyment), his eyes fall on you shooting him a lazy smile and oh my god are your eyes seductive like in the pics.

2.You sitting next to Ghost with Soap across from him. Both men engaged in a conversation about their last Op. When you play the oldest trick written in the books: oops I dropped my fork let me get it from under the table. It helps that Soap is still not fully used to Ghost's unmasked face, so he doesn’t notice you diving under the table. What he does notice is something heavy on his thigh and two hands ghosting over his belt buckle. He visibly jumps a little, his gaze falling into his lap, where you look up at him all doe-eyed, head resting on his right leg, waiting for permission.

In either scenario, a gruff voice brings Soap to snap his eyes back up holding eye-contact with his Lieutenant(who’s completely ignoring your antics):

"Enjoying yourself, Sergeant?"

Anyway it ends with cream pie for dessert <3

(Please tell me off, if i ever cross your boundaries or make you feel uncomfortable it’s the last thing i want to do when sending in nasty thoughts)

you're very sweet to check in about my boundaries!!! don't worry though - as long as the comments aren't aimed towards me (which maybe would be a bit off putting) and they're just related to stuff I'm writing ahah, I don't really care. I probably should think about and then clarify if I have any boundaries on my pinned post, but rn you're totally good!

(nsfw below)

Oh my god that last option has my brain melting out of my ears. Especially if Soap's still half-unsure if they're fucking with him or not, or if this is a one time thing that they're including him on. He obviously doesn't want to blow his only shot if this is the only time he'll ever get to fuck you.

Also there's something so surreal to him about you being on your knees in front of him after he's been literally jerked off in the middle of the desert by the man sitting across the table from him. To photos of you. In any other circumstance, if Soap had met you first and this was just a dinner between the two of you, he wouldn't be half as nervous; he'd be so comfortable and needy while you fit his length down your throat, palming the back of your head and maybe trying to fit more than you can manage before backing off and apologizing 😔

With Ghost sitting there though, just staring at him (and Soap has a fairly good understanding of Ghost as a person, but even he has trouble really getting a read on the guy), he's not sure if he should just sit there motionlessly as you undo his jeans and pull his dick out or if he should touch you. He can't stop looking from your face pressed up against the bulge in his briefs back to Ghost's (no mask now that they're at home away from everyone, but his real face is so much more intimidating somehow in this context).

Ghost at one point going, "Not gonna thank her for all her hard work?" and Soap can only whine and pat the back of your head shakily after coming down your throat, your lips still a bit wet with him when you pull away.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #ghost x soap x reader

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 5 months

Text

Soup (leeminho)

So maybe going for a night run in the middle of a particularly cold december right after an exhausting day at work wasn't the best decision. Also going to sleep with your full head of wet post shower hair wasn't one of your smartest ideas either. But you were just too tired and too unbothered to blow dry it. Problem is you're now waking up feeling cold, with a pretty stuffed nose, a pesky headache and your whole body feeling all sore and weak.

You try to forcefully breathe out of your nostrils only to find them annoyingly blocked and achy, you reach out onto your nightstand to grab a few tissues and try to blow your nose as quietly as possible, considering your boyfriend is still fast asleep right next to you, his mouth open in a triangular shape, the softest snoring coming from it as his messy hair spread out on the pillow: "ah-aahhtchu!!".

There you go. All your best efforts ruined. Just like that. With a single loud sneeze that literally makes Minho jolt awake: "aigo! Oh god!", he blurts out, a shocked and confused expression on his face as he looks around him only to find you staring at him, mortified as you wipe your nose with a tissue, "I am so sorry, I did not mean to wake you, I didn't think I was gonna sneeze that loud", you mumble apologetically and he just blinks a few times, he pushes his hair back away from his face and nods, "it's alright. Are you okay?", he asks then, pulling the sheets up back over his body and resting his head on the pillow, you rub your forehead in little circles with your pointer finger and shake your head no, "I think I have a pretty bad cold. Feeling very achy and stuffed, my head is splitting", you list your symptoms in a low voice, still a little heavy with sleep.

He yawns loudly, pulling you close to him in an unexpected embrace, "mmh", he hums softly, then places his lips on your forehead, pressing the softest little kiss there which feels so tender, so intimate it makes you melt a little. If it wasn't for your body actually feeling cold all over you could have actually just liquify right then and there for attempting to take your temperature like that is exactly what your mum used to do when you were a kid and were feeling sick.

"You are a little warm, but not too much", Minho mumbles, hugging you even tighter, nuzzling in your neck and it feels so amazing to have him in your arms, so cuddly and soft and sleepy, your congested nose still managing to pick up the scent of his skin and his hair and his deodorant and you just wish you could stay like that until your cold goes away. But you know you can't. For Minho's sake you know you should stay away.

You brush his hair gently and try to nudge him a little bit, "I don't think you should stick to me like this babe, you might get sick as well", you whisper, feeling the need to blow your nose once again as you then pat down the mattress looking for the crumpled tissue you placed there somewhere, Minho giggles softly and only presses further against your chest, "mmh I don't care, give me all of your germs", he snickers and you can't help but laugh a little even while rolling your eyes playfully, "I'm serious Min, I'm feeling really gross right now, I don't want to contaminate you", you try once again, actually pressing the tissue up to your nose, "at this point in our relationship I reckon we shared basically every kind of body fluid y/n, do you think I give a damn if I get a runny nose? It's just a cold, your body is just acting up cause you're tired, I'm pretty sure you don't even have a fever".

Truth to be told you weren't feeling exactly ill. You weren't getting the shakes or cold sweats, you were just cold and achy and your head hurt because of your stuffed nose. But you still cared enough about your boyfriend not to want him to risk it, "Minho I'm like 2 seconds away to sneeze a hundred times and kick you out of the bed", you try once again and this time, huffing and puffing, he finally gives up and forces himself out of bed, "fine fine. I'll leave. I'm feeling hungry anyway, do you want breakfast?", he asks, stretching out his harms, his shirt riding up his sides and torso, exposing his abs and pelvis line which looks oh so great.

You tuck yourself further down into bed, pulling the sheets up to your chin and shake your head,"I don't really feel like eating I just want to sleep", you sigh, "okay, rest up. But you'll need to eat something later on, or else you won't be strong enough to recover from this terrible cold", he teases, crunching down at your level and poking your reddened nose, and you can't help but smile bittersweetly my at him, your heart aching a little.

"My grandpa used to say the same. I remember when I was a kid whenever I got ill my parents would drop me off at my grandparents so they wouldn't have to miss work and my grandma would knit woolen blankets for me and my grandpa would always make me egg drop soup and be all dramatic about how I needed protein and warmth in order to beat whatever virus I used to get in the winter", you reminisce, suddenly feeling so nostalgic as your eyes water a bit, thinking about how it's already been two years since your beloved grandpa passed away.

You stifle back a sob and press the back of your hands firmly against your eyelids, trying to stop them from letting your tears drop and Minho looks at you so softly, a gentle, sorry smile on his lips, "your grandpa was so right, I'm sure he was such a wise, caring man", you nod and beam at him, your eyes now feeling droopy and heavy, "yeah, he was. You would have loved him… ".

Knowing just how much Minho cares for his family and especially for his grandparents, you make sure he knows just how serious your words are and how sure you are your late relative would have actually adored your boyfriend," he would have loved you too, just like his own grandson, I'm certain",you add quietly and you can see Minho visibly swallowing down a lump in his throat, he blinks his shiny eyes upwards for a second, possibly trying to force back fresh tears, he clears his throat and smiles fondly at you, "I appreciate that. A lot. Now try to get some sleep yeah? I'll be downstairs".

You're not sure how long you have been asleep for but one thing that's strikingly certain is that as you slowly open your eyes and adjust to the light once again you realise there is actually no bright light to adjust to: your bedroom isn't pitch black but the sky outside your window is definitely dark blue and the pale yellow moon is definitely shining up there.

You grab at the pile of used tissues on your night stand, trying to find the box to get a new one, feeling a little disoriented as you find no old tissues. You pull yourself up a little and realise your pillow and your clothes and your whole room smells like fresh eucalyptus and menthol and your nose doesn't actually feel stuffy anymore.

You also feel pleasantly warm and rested, no trace left of your body aches, no more splitting headache. You rub your eyes until you can finally focus them on the essential oil diffuser steaming in the corner of the room that definitely wasn't there before, and the baby pink crochet blanket still spread out on top of your legs, that also wasn't there when you fell back asleep.

"Oh, you're finally awake. Hi!", Minho suddenly walks into the room, a pile of fresh loundry in his arms and a little srmik on his face as he sits on the edge of the bed, "are you feeling a little better?", he asks, "y-yeah. Much better, actually. Did you do this?", you gesture all around the room, pointing at the blanket and the diffuser, the clean surface of your nightstand, and he shrugs, "yup. You're a very heavy sleeper when you're sick. I could've vacuumed this whole place and you would have still been fast asleep. I think you only stirred like once, and you slept for a full 9 and half hours too", "9 AND HALF HOURS? WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN IT'S ALMOST 7 PM?", you shriek, looking at your home screen that reads 6.45 pm.

Minho giggles and folds a couple shirts in his lap, "I just told you, you're quite the heavy sleeper. Now, do you feel like having some dinner? Or at least drinking some water? I tried to make this room as humid and as less dehydrating as possible but you should definitely have some water", he offers and you nod assuredly, your stomach grumbling at the sole mention of food.

"Yeah definitely. Let me just freshen up and I'll be downstairs so we can have dinner together. I'm sorry I slept through the entire day, you must have felt so lonely and bored", you admit sheepishly, feeling grateful for he clearly got busy and made sure you recovered quickly and took care of the laundry you knew had been piling up and probably even prepared dinner, "that's okay, I finally know what it feels like when I'm jet legged as fuck and sleep all day and you're left on your own for hours on end, it's not fun but oh well, I can keep busy".

Once you had a nice warm shower and changed into clean sweats you hop downstairs, feeling very well rested and serene, and exponentially hungry as you walk into the kitchen to down your body weight in water and food, already smelling a delicious, somewhat familiar aroma in the air.

Minho places a lid over a pot and slides out a chair at the table for you, even helping you sit in it before filling up a tall glass of water for you, "so… I know it won't obviously taste the same as your grandpa's but I did call your grandma to get the recipe down, she was a great help and since she's out bowling with her chess club friends she says she'll call you tomorrow in the morning but anyway… Hopefully this is nice enough".

Your eyes shoot up as Minho stands behind your chair and serves you a steaming, deliciously smelling bowl of egg drop soup and looks at you expectantly: "you-you made my granddad's soup for me?", you stutter, your eyes already filling up with sappy tears, "I tried my best. Wouldn't say it's just like the one he used to make but it's my attempt at it".

Your throat feels dry and it's not your cold it's literally your heart sucking up all the moisture in your body and shooting it up to your eyes now fully streaming with tears as you grab into Minho's hands resting on your shoulders and kiss them repeatedly, holding firmly onto his wrists and his forearms until he bends down a little. You tilt your head back and he meets you halfway to let you kiss him over and over, "you are the best thing that has ever happen to me Lee Minho, God I love you, I love you so fucking much".

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ohbo-ohno · 8 months

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Really like the idea of reader and Johnny getting punished- they both did something to piss Simon off so now they’re tied together. Readers back is to his chest and their in a kneeling/doggy position, Johnnys hands are tied to the railing of the bed, (maybe readers as well), and their ankles and thighs are also tied together. Johnny literally can not pull out even if he wanted to.

y'know i post something overtly horny, just absolutely disgustingly kinky and sexual, and i think to myself "this post won't do as well as my other ones have" and then an hour later i get an ask that translates to me as "do more of that please" i love you all sm lmao

dom x switch x sub is like my fav throuple dynamic, i always feel like 2 doms and 2 subs is really hard to balance. but you've got that switch in the middle who can play whatever role needs to be filled.

a punishment for johnny is always orgasm denial. not even overstimulation, because that man overstimulates himself literally every time has has sex (which was a blast to write in chap 1 lol). you've got to fully deny him or he's not actually gonna feel like he's suffering at all

you'd probably go either way, but simon really loves to overwhelm you with so many orgasms they become painful. take this usually fantastic thing and make it a punishment yk?

with your ask - omfg?! that position has me vibrating. simon sticks a little vibrator to your clit, has the two of you losing your minds. johnny's got a cock ring on so he can't cum, is just stuck in the wet heat of you and the vibrations right against the base of his cock, while you can't stop coming, the merciless sensation against your clit and the thickness of johnny's dick inside of you sending you over the edge again and again. maybe simon comes up behind the two of you and fuck's johnny real hard, just to emphasize that he can't fuck you at all :/ groans whole he's buried to the hilt, thanks the two of you for being bad cause now he gets to fuck you with the fantastic feeling of the vibrator echoing all the way back to johnny's hole

i really wish i had more to add to this (and i might rb it later and add more) because the idea of simon punishing both you and johnny at the same time has steam blowing out of my ears

#asks and answers #bo writes #dlmliyh

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katyawriteswhump · 3 months

Text

The power of love, part 5 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Eddie POV

Robin spreads out a map they’d taken from the Harringtons across the blanket on Steve’s bed. She points to their current location.

“So, this is us. We’re away from the road but still waaay too screaming-in-your-face easy to find.” She slides her finger a few inches across the map. “This old loggers’ camp is deep in the forest and could be the perfect place to hide. However, it’s over seven miles and we might have to hike, if the track is broken up. Steve? What do you say?”

“What am I supposed to say, Robin?” Steve sits up against the pillows, arms folded. “Let’s get going.”

“It’s a loooong way for you, if we can’t drive, man,” says Eddie.

“I’m good. Jesus! Hiking is in her top ten least favourite pass times. Not mine.” Steve throws off the covers, pushes himself up. He repels Eddie’s attempt to help with a jab of his elbow then leans heavily on the wall. “When do we start?”

“Hold your horses, cowboy.” Eddie cranes over the map. “My beloved Pa had a few hideouts round this way—”

“Yeah, they must’ve been totally undiscoverable,” snarks Steve, “what with Al Munson being FOREVER IN JAIL.”

“If you’re feeling so much better, Dingus, THEN STOP BEING A BITCH.” That was Robin, now matching Steve’s glare. “Go on, Eddie. What’s your plan?”

They strike out for the logging camp that afternoon, planning to break their journey in a cave, which Eddie’s Pops had used a couple of times. They drive the first part of the trail, then set off on foot when the track gets too uneven for the Lincoln’s tyres. Most of the trail is uphill through forest. Steve, however, refuses any help, and insists on taking his share of supplies.

He says very little, walking close to Robin. She wavers between cajoling him into taking breaks, and an encouraging monologue. Eddie goes ahead, using a compass and some basic tracking skills Wayne taught him, while squinting at the hazy sun. And, obviously, he seeks the easiest path for Steve.

“You know I suck at directions, right?” he whispers to Robin, while Steve takes a ‘moment,’ sitting down. “Though I’m gonna blame Vecna—and the matter that Hawkins is now one big, fiery Upside Down doormat—for blowing the compass off.”

She bats a bug from her nose. “Ugh! If it’s any consolation, trail finding was never exactly my number one skill, either.”

“How about Captain America over there?”

“He literally never knows his left from his right.” Eddie’s rarely seen anything more loving than the look she casts Steve’s way. “I think it’s gotten harder for him. He’s had... uh, quite a few blows to the head in recent years. Never seen him like this before. I’m worried, Eddie.”

“Me too.” Eddie swipes hair from his brow, finding it slick with sweat. “Talking of Vecna-skewed compasses and Vecna in general. Should we also worry about his crazy-ass cravings for Lover’s Lake?”

“At this juncture, I’m hoping it’s all some kind of freaky coincidence.” She actually closes her eyes, as if offering up a silent prayer. “I mean, even when he’s outta his mind, Steve really, really loves swimming. On the other hand, if going near the lake actually made Steve better, and that’s why he healed so quick after his initial bat attack, then… then… Oh shit, I don’t even want to say it.”

Their gazes lock, and Eddie knows they’re brain sharing: There’s a gate to the Upside Down in Lover’s Lake. If Steve’s somehow linked to it some evil-magic-juju fashion, then…

“You don’t seriously think he’s flayed?” Eddie little more than mouths the words.

Robin slices up a forbidding hand, so fast Eddie fliches. “No. Not that. He can’t be. Vecna isn’t in his head—he’d tell us, right? I mean, there could be a more physical link to the Upside Down and the hive mind, like with Will at various stages, but… No, no, no. We’re catastrophising, huh?”

Eddie nods keenly, which does little to dispel his unease. On the other hand, Robin is right. Nothing about Steve’s behaviour is shouting “flayed” or whatever. Including the teeny, tiny matter of Steve bringing Eddie back from extinction, though that remains totally unexplained. Yeah, it could be simply because death happens differently in the Upside Down.

Steve hauls himself up, hugging a tree. “What we waiting for? Bears to come bite our sorry butts?”

“There are bears out here?” Robin squeaks.

“He’s kidding,” mutters Eddie. At least, Eddie hopes he is. Steve still looks dead grumpy and serious.

They make the caves by sunset. They’ve got flashlights, and Eddie and Robin could’ve pressed on through the night, but Steve blatantly can’t. As soon as they arrive, he slumps down against the rockface, curls his legs up. He presses his face to his knees and rocks himself gently.

“You sure you’re all right?” asks Eddie.

“Next person who asks me that gets punched.”

Ooookay. No change in Steve’s mood then. Robin reassures herself there are no bear scratches in the cave then heads out to scout the route for the next morning. Eddie starts unpacking the bedding and cereal.

The air in the cave is cool and thick with damp. Eddie kinda likes it anyhow. Amid the must and mould, he inhales the faintest hint of charcoal. He pictures his Pa shacked up here, also on the run. He can’t help chuckle: I tried soooo hard not to follow in your footsteps.

Steve, meanwhile, is huddling ever more tightly in on himself.

Eddie’s tempted to light a fire, as he imagines it gets cold in caves overnight, plus it’s still only April. However, he fears the smoke, if not the flames, could billow out of the narrow entrance and be spotted from miles around. Maybe that’s where you went wrong, Daddy dearest.

“You want a blanket?” ventures Eddie, sitting down next to Steve. Not quite touching, though. “Anything to eat? C’mon, dude. We all gotta keep our strength up.”

He taps the cereal packet against Steve’s arm, startling him into looking up. The torchlight heightens the shadows beneath Steve’s cheekbones, making him look horribly pale and gaunt. Kinda ghost-like, though Eddie stifles a gasp of shock for a different reason.

Steve Harrington is crying. Though trying his darndest not to—gritting his teeth, swiping the tell-tale moisture from his cheekbones. “God! I’m beyond pathetic. No wonder everyone thinks I’m a total dud.”

Cereal cast aside, Eddie squeezes Steve’s knee then retreats like the coward he is. “What are you on about? You’re, like, the most popular guy in town.”

Steve’s scowl is angry, incredulous and broken in equal measures. “Was, man. It was all a bunch of bull, and… totally irrelevant. I mean, haven’t you seen enough? We need to move, to keep moving, to evade capture, to get ready to fight Vecna again. I can barely walk.”

“Oookay, let’s rewind and be kind, Stevie.” He gets away with that sneaky pet-name again. “You’re feeling down because you’re… I dunno, sick, hurt, tired. Where do I begin? Fact is, you’re not a superhero man, you bleed and bruise like the rest of us lesser mortals… but you are a freakin’ hero.”

Steve’s brittle laugh breaks on a sob, against which he clamps his jaw even tighter. Eddie further musters his courage and slings an arm around Steve, who tenses. Then exhaustion wins. Steve sinks sideways against Eddie and rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Soon, Steve’s shuddering breaths even out. The weirdest thing is that, despite how cranky Steve’s been all afternoon, this closeness feels disarmingly natural. That said, in the past forty-eight hours, they’ve had little choice but to become… intimate. Even Eddie's fizzing nerves soon settle.

“One thing’s for sure,” says Eddie, at length. “I’m more jealous than ever. I mean, Henderson’s respect for you must’ve skyrocketed and it was excruciatingly stratospheric already. I’m just the goon you brought back from the dead.”

Steve sniffles, lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder. “I didn’t do anything really, man. Basic CPR. I executed a move.”

“Yeeeah.” A silly grin tugs the edges of Eddie’s mouth. “With your lips, dude.”

Steve smirks, and… Woah! Eddie spots something he’d wondered if he’d imagined several times. Including earlier, when Steve collapsed against him on the way back from the outhouse.

That merest hint of… attraction? Of flirty fun?

Just as Eddie decides he’s imagining it—again—that spark reaches Steve’s too-pretty, too-sad eyes, and he says:

“That was kinda fresh of me.”

Eddie’s tongue flaps away before he can stop it: “Tell you one other thing for sure—if you'd asked permission to get all smoochey, for whatever reason, I'd have granted you a full-access backstage pass.” Then Eddie’s brain kicks in. “Aaaaaand, that was dumb. What with you being the straightest guy in the history of ever.”

Steve’s sparkle vanishes, and he turns his face to the darkness. “Go to Hell! Why does everyone always make such massive assumptions about me?”

“You’re not straight? I mean, I assumed… You’re you. You’ve got girlie mag centerfolds in your room!”

“You’re judging me on that?” Steve ruffles his hair and groans, sounding more wearily upset than agitated. “Look, man, I’ve not changed my room since sophomore year. In case you’re missing any of the plot, I’ve had other crap going on.”

“Yeah, but you and Wheeler! The way you look at her, and the way she looks at—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Steve sinks his forehead to his knees again. Nevertheless, Eddie’s arm is still around him, and he’s not shrugged it off. What’s more, it seems he does want to talk, even if it’s rambling and kinda hard to follow:

“I've been through stuff like this before, Eddie. Getting hurt and shit, hit so hard I black out and the doctors give me all these scary warnings. It’s weird, whenever I wake after being hurt, it feels as if loads of time has passed, even if it’s only been a few minutes. I always feel… shitty, of course, but also… a bit different. It’s confusing… Probably bullshit. It’s all bullshit.”

Different.

Eddie’s heart gives a little squeeze, which he kinda despairs of. Not before he’s given Steve a small squeeze, too. “What kind of different?”

“I dunno. Like.... this time around, I'm not so into Nance. Or maybe feeling so crappy this past day has given even my thick head perspective, and I can see it’s hopeless. I mean, I figured I was in love with Robin once, when I “came back” from being knocked out, and, of course, I do love her but... not like that. She gets me… better than I do, I guess. Talk to her if you want anything about me to make sense.” He yawns. “I’m soooo tired, man.”

Soon, Steve’s sunk so deep against Eddie, his head is in Eddie’s lap. Eddie drags a blanket up over Steve, then finds himself tentatively stroking Steve’s hair. He’s unsure if Steve is asleep or not. Either way, Steve sighs, kinda melts beneath his touch. Wherever he’s drifted off to, it seems peaceful.

Eddie tries and fails not to think on how trippy this is: I got Steve ‘King of Hawkins High’ Harrington asleep in my lap, and he just snapped at me for suggesting he was straight.

He also tries and fails not to worry about the whole Lover’s-Lake-giving-Steve-weird-juju issue. Steve just straight-up told him he’s been through near-death experiences before and come back different. Yeah, Eddie’s cheerleading for the GOOD variety of different. However, in Hawkins, and in life in general:

Odds are stacked in the favour of BAD different, Munson. As in FLAYED different.

No. He’s not going down that path. Robin would notice anything weird about Steve, and Steve’s not acting strange. He’s just… strangely sick, though it’s not that odd, really, after all he’s been through.

Yeah, right. And My Little Pony seahorses are gonna surf in on a tsunami of petals and save the day.

Man, it sucks being such a cynic.

He doesn’t notice Robin slip back in until she’s nearly upon them. “You two got cosy, then,” she whispers.

“I got a creeping suspicion he’s gonna break my neck in the morning for this.”

She wiggles her brows. “Oh, I dunno. His bark is totally worse than his bite.”

“I can hear you, asshats,” mumbles Steve. Robin’s brows shoot sky high. “I don’t want to be sleeping on his bony knees, but some moron forgot to bring pillows.”

Eddie strokes Steve’s hair into that warm groove behind his ear, and finally discovers he’s too tired to worry about anything much at all.

Part Six

...

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far.

#steddie #steve harrington whump #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #platonic stobin #stobin #stranger things fanfic #steve and robin #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hurt/comfort

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merakiui · 3 months

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oh my god… i just read ‘the most dangerous game’ on ao3 and while i was at the part of where jade pretends to be floyd while they… ya know 🥴

i was listening to phantom of the opera’s ‘medley : down once more / and track down this murderer’. and i just wanna you to know the heavenly experience i had cause OH MY LAWD

(~5:35 in the song, which is the duet/ trio between the phantom, raoul [love interest] and christine [main girl] )

and i LOVE how beautifully it connects. with reader’s confusion about their sudden flooding thoughts of jade. why they keep thinking about him even though they’re WITH floyd

while jade is going to the ‘point of no return,’ he literally cant go back. hes pretending to be his brother to 1. plant more jade shaped seeds in their head & 2. HES LITERALLY FUCKING THEM AS HIS BROTHER WHO HE KNOWS THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON. so yeah: he’s literally crossing the ‘point of no return,’ and he knows that. that this will either work out, or horrifically blow up in his face. but that’s only if you found out ☝️😲

my favorite part is that when christine sings about the ‘angel of music.’ the man [phantom] who was there in the shadows supporting her, yearning for her, loving her obsessively to the point it scared her (jade was much more discreet but that’s not the point)

a bit later in the song she sings ‘angel of music you have deceived me’ and i LOVE how it timed up when i read it. and she goes about how ‘she gave her mind blindly’

cause that’s EXACTLY what happened. jade played and deceived reader like she was a piece on a chess board. she literally let him into her mind because she wanted floyd so badly. he literally took over her mind as her thoughts slowly started contain less floyd and more of jade.

also, in the way he deceived her; jade never was going to help them with floyd, and made that ‘contract’ under false pretenses cause this was him making his attack. (ambush hunter, and you know that man was cooking shit up for months too, maybe it got sped up when reader wanted a job at monstro)

(this song also came again when reader and jade were in the ocean 🕺🏻💃🏻🕺🏻💃🏻 and ARGGHHH. i’m gonna lose my sanity im in love)

but also. the song before this is literally ‘the point of no return’ and reader the floyd part while listening to it was just spine chilling. but the icing on the cake for me was the medley 🤤

sorry for the long ask, but i just- i’m literally in love with your writing, the planning that goes into is just awe-inspiring. i love how you give us readers things at face value before revealing smthn HUGE but if you go back and reread you’re like ‘how the FUCK did i miss that’, or when everything gets packaged in a nice little bow (so coquette 🤭🎀)

any ways, just wanted to share this with you! keep up the great work‼️ (i’m foaming at the mouth for more jade)

:O :O :O :O !!!!!!!! AAAAAA THAT SONG AND THOSE MOMENTS FROM IT CONNECT SO PERFECTLY..... "plant more Jade-shaped seeds" omg that's so true. >_< he really did surpass the point of no return in that scene just to ensure you slowly but surely thought less of Floyd and more of him throughout the time you spend together. It was so high-stakes, too. Either it works wonderfully or, as you noted, it completely blows up in his face.

And you're right!!! Jade was never going to help you get closer with Floyd. He was willing to entertain and enable your obsession, but that's as much as he'll do. He's just in it for his own benefits and to hopefully twist your perception so that you might fall for him instead. He really was cooking that plan up months in advance. T^T what an evil eel... I love the Phantom of the Opera and its soundtrack,, <3 your ask reminded me of just how brilliant it is!!!! I need to listen to all of the songs again. >w<

Thank you for reading and enjoying tmdg!!!!! I'm happy you like the way I write. One of my favorite things to do is write scenes in which you can glean new information after a reread. >:D there are so many tiny details sewn into tmdg and topped off with a pretty bow!! Very coquette indeed!!!! (˘ ˘ ˘)💖

#sweet messages #i too foam at the mouth for jade... orz he's so !!!!!!!

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detox2retox · 10 months

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david and max's relationship through (mostly) david's pov: a camp camp post.

🚨DISCLAIMER🚨 as i am writing this, i have not seen the new special, so if anything is incorrect or outdated as of that release, plz disregard it. also, im writing this a bit late, so ignore any grammar/spelling errors. this is also transferred from twitter, as well as a bit headcanon heavy.

i believe david sees a lot of how he was when he was maxs age in max. yknow, stubborn and frustrated. david has also mentioned (or atleast implied) he doesn't have a very good relationship with his father (him referring to campbell as "the father he never had"). but then, of course, younger david had found a solace in camp campbell and started to look up at cameron campbell. david looked to campbell as a father figure the same way that he hopes max looks up to him; the difference though, is that campbell didn't care about david, but david really cares about max.

of course, david finds out how cameron really feels, but he didn't let that ruin how he felt about camp. so, he tries to be what he wished campbell was for him, but for max, in hope that max doesn't let his parents ruin his entire outlook on the world. he wants max to know that just because some ppl are bad, doesnt mean everybody is, and that he doesn't have to be bad either. he doesn't want max to completely change himself, he just wants max to be happy, and he knows that he never will be if he is stuck with his parents; so he's willing to be patient, for everything to work out for him and max, to help him.

throught camp camp, we can see the parallels of david seeing campbell as a father for so long because he was the only adult man in his life and he seemed perfect in his naive child eyes, viewing him as an idol and putting him up on a pedestal despite campbell only seeing him as a pawn to get him out of ordeals, because he knows that david trusts and praises him in his mind and how he is able to use this to his advantage (literally just watch szn 3) due to how he has the opposite attitude towards david that david has towards him; he is completely deattatched from david and couldn't give less of a shit about him than he already does. vs. david wanting max to see him as a father figure and max still being somewhat scared of trusting him, because what if david doesnt actually care, and just wants him to be some pawn for whatever sick twisted game he's secretly planning, because he thinks that everything and everyone is a bad person or thing at their core, because that's all he's seen from his parents; why should he believe anything else? (ex. max thinking david was gonna kill him for leaving camp in szn 1 ep 8, him consistently telling david throughout the show, specifically szn 1)

parents day (szn 2 episode 12) had been a big factor in david and maxs relationship, specifically how they viewed eachother. throughout the episode, we see max being adamant about how he knows that neither of his parents are showing up. on the contrary, david is constantly assuring that they will show up, assuming that max is just being negative like usual. its important to note, that at thus point, david is blissfully unaware of how maxs parents/homelife is, which becomes a contributing factor to the building of this episode.

before david reads maxs papers, he blows up at max over his attitude, thinking that he was just trying to ruin this for david. but, after he reads his papers, he realizes that max was likely telling the truth due to his parents lack of effort put into the forms, that they really weren't going to show up and that max hadn't been trying to get in the way of his chance to impress campbell. max seems to attempt to be dismissive of the whole thing, acting like he didn't care, but when david sees him genuinely cry, he is finally able to understand max, which we see when they have their talk in the restaurant. he doesn't berate him over his reaction, like max had expected, but he sympathizes with him, telling him that it was valid for him to be upset about what his parents did to him. he doesn't epexct max to be super mature over the whole ordeal, because he recognizes that max was a child. he deserved to be cared for in a way that they hadn't provided for him. thats why david had tried so hard to get max to enjoy camp, because that's what helped him as a child, when he was like max. he understands that max wasn't a jaded cynical overlord, but a product of the environment that he grew up in. david wants what is best for him because it's what he wanted for himself at max's age.

tl,dr: david sees himself when he's younger and that's why he tries to make camp fun for him and be the person that max can look up to (like campbell USED to be for him), so he can find the same enjoyment in it that david did, because he just wants max to be happy.

#camp camp #camp campbell #cc max #camp camp max #max camp camp #cc david #camp camp david #david camp camp #dadvid #camp camp dadvid #dadvid camp camp #camp camp headcanons #??#camp camp anaylsis #rooster teeth #campcamp #this took forever to write lmaooo

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elmundodeflor · 4 months

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In the span of 10 years, Hanji writes Levi one letter for each birthday they spend together.

"12 Things I Never Told You" pays homage to his and Hanji's bond through space and time, and depicts the loving light in which they saw him.

You can read the full fic and 12 letters here, on AO3.

In the meantime, here's one of the letters for you to check out;

Levi,

When I gave you the tea-can earlier, the look on your face could have only meant two things:

1) "This must have been expensive as hell."

2) "You're batshit crazy for spending on it."

I told you, though! I wasn't gonna throw you a birthday party, but you had to expect a gift from me, at least. I like going all out!

Anyways, it was a nice surprise that you came down the lab with two mugs instead of one. And that you talked about your mother.

You told me that you had this same tea-can at home, in the Underground. And that your mom had gotten it for trade from one of her clients that lived up here. Your entire face softened when you mentioned her— how graceful she was. It was like seeing sugar melting on the stove.

Of course, I didn't ask— if she's alive, or what happened to her. I didn't mean to be intrusive. But the way you spoke in past-tense... oh, I'm sorry, Levi. I'm so, so sorry. Really. If she was anything quite like you, then I'm sure she was a wonderful woman.

To be honest, I don't know either— whether my mom's alive or not. You see, I never talk about this for a reason. I ran away from home when I was fourteen. My parents were... well, let's just say... not good people. I was mischievous, and rebellious, and asked too many questions. They most definitely did not like that.

My grandpa was the closest thing I ever had to a father, or a friend. He did die, though. He was mischievous, and rebellious, and asked as many questions as I did. I guess, back then, it not only made my parents uncomfortable, but the Military Police as well...

It was the reason I joined the Survey Corps, you know? You may not believe this, but I was once full of rage, too. I'm just lucky I could turn it into something better— passion, purpose. I'm certainly not proud of how it used to be. You should have seen me, all those years ago; shouting down the hallways, kicking titans' heads... I just hope you never get to see it again. If you do, I'm scared you might never look at me the same, and that I never forgive myself for it.

I have no clue how you do it, though— carry yourself through life. Back then, if they'd given me the names of the fuckers who took my grandpa, I'd have killed them on the spot. You, on the other hand, (and I know you'll get mad at me for saying this) are gentle. If you wanted to, you could break necks with a single blow. Or seek revenge towards the world for what it's done to you. But you choose not to. You actively, every day, choose not to.

Yeah, yeah, you probably don't like me reminding you of all this. But you're kind, Levi. You stay in the lab with me while I’m working, and you trust me enough to tell me about your mother. And you share this expensive-ass-tea I bought for you.

You're a good person. Much better than I'll ever be. I know you don’t think that you are, and that you worry others may also think that you’re not. But it’s true— you’re a good man.

See? It doesn't even matter I spent half my budget on this! (You’ve been warned, you won’t ever hear a word about it). You deserve to have nice things, little one. Also, it was pretty neat to hear that tiny hum of satisfaction you made when you drank from your cup. I know not many things surprise you nowadays, either. So, I'll take my pride in knowing I did— HA!

Hope you had a good night. And that you had a great birthday— yeah, that too!

Happy you're with me for another year.

See you around,

Hanji x

P.S: Thank you for the tea. Literally the best one I had!

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trentsixtysix · 2 years

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Sorry if this is a bit specific but do you think you could write something for Trent where you’re both dating and you’re an England footballer’s sister, and then they interview your brother and Trent together whilst you’re in the room and bring you up and it’s quite fluffy (that probably made no sense) 💕💕

Blush

DISCLAIMER: Apologies this took so long even though it's so short, poorly written and I hate it! but the request was so cute!

Word Count: 1.2k

Fluff

'What time are you guys filming that video?' You asked, watching your boyfriend and brother playing a game of Fifa, after they promised you it was their last round 3 rounds ago..

You were currently at St. George's park with them for the day, with a bunch of other players' family being present too for an event, but right now you were frustrated they weren't showing you any attention, locking you in the gaming room with them to watch.

'Helloo?' You called, playfully kicking them in the back.

'Soz babe, we're supposed to be doing it now I think.' Replied Trent, now feeling defeated as Jadon had just won.

'You're a cheat you.' He complained, as you began to laugh watching Jadon rub it in his face.

'I'm just too good, tell him Y/n.' Said Jadon, nudging you.

'Don't get ahead of yourself mate, remember I beat you every time.' You joked, provoking laughter from Trent who began to tease him.

You'd been with Trent just over a year now, having been introduced accidentally by your little brother Jadon. You couldn't say he was the happiest to find out you were together, with it definitely taking some time for him to get used to, eventually paying off as him and Trent were now the closest they'd ever been, making you almost jealous as your brother had stolen your boyfriend off of you.

The social media memes and jokes didn't help either, especially since you were a huge Liverpool fan, finding it awkward when United would play them, cheering both of them on but hoping for one winner, your boyfriend and your team.

'Shit we need to go.' Reminded Jadon, as you all left the room for them to be filmed.

They were filming a segment of 'Roommates' where they'd answer questions about each other, leaving you sat in the corner to enjoy the whole thing, fighting back your giggles when the two of them would overreact on getting a question wrong.

'Who is Trent's favourite artist, A: Kanye B: Drake C: Adele..' Read your brother, and you wished you could answer it for him because it was so obvious.

'Hmm, I can imagine him listening to all 3, but I'm gonna say Kanye.' Answered Jadon, as it was time for Trent to react.

'It's Adele man!' Explained Trent, Jadon in disbelief.

'Is that true? Are you heartbroken bro?' Pushed Jadon, making everyone in the room laugh.

'I won't stand for any Adele slander, and I literally went to her concert last month, sent you pics.' He tutted.

'Oh yeah, when you and Y/n went together?' Asked Jadon, receiving confirmation.

'You introduced Y/n and Trent didn't you Sanch?' Asked a player, walking by and eavesdropping on the interview, making you a bit uncomfy as you were unsure what the two would say, with both you and Trent having your relationship very private from the start.

'Shall I just tell the story then?' Asked Jadon, with the crew and other players cheering him on to do it, making you roll your eyes as you knew your brother loved being a story-teller, you and your boyfriend sat still listening, and you couldn't help but admire how shy he got.

'Well, we were playing Liverpool, and I was having a talk with Trentski after the match...'

'Then Y/n comes over to talk to me, and completely blows me off for Trent.' Explains your brother, making Trent burst out laughing.

'No it did not happen like that!' You playfully interjected, your face not in the video and only your voice.

'Let me finish! So she completely ignores me and starts telling Trent about how amazing his performance was... then 2 months later they're a thing.' Added Jadon.

'You did it to yourself man.' Smirked Trent, as the conversation went on a little longer. He looked over to see you smiling, with you still a bit unsure about this being posted on the England YouTube channel, hoping it'd be edited out. He gave you a little nod and thumbs up, as a way to tell you it's fine, and reassured you it wouldn't be a big deal, before you left them to finish the shooting, wandering over to the snacks table.

'Hey baby.' You heard a voice say, realising it was Trent wrapping his arms around you, as you were more focused on which cupcake to pick.

'You all done?' You asked, caressing his arm, the two of you weren't fans of PDA but you had missed your boyfriend today, not really caring at the moment.

'Yep, you ready to leave?'

'Yes please, where's Jadon?' You asked, aware you were his ride home too.

'Ah here he comes.' Said Trent, both of you watching him toddle over to you guys.

'We gonna get going then?' Questioned your brother, and you got your car keys ready for the lengthy journey back to Manchester.

Both of them were now sat in the car with you, with Trent in the passenger seat too tired to drive, and Sanch in the back already passed out from exhaustion, even though all they did was play Fifa the whole day.

'He looks just like you y'know.' Observed Trent, turning his back to see Jadon with his mouth wide open snoring away.

'Oi, watch it!' You joked, playfully slapping his arm.

'What? Not a bad thing he's a beautiful guy.' Said Trent.

'Starting to think you fancy him more than me now.' You bantered, making Trent put his hand on your thigh.

'Nah not yet, but I have to say I do love that kid a lot, without him I wouldn't have known you.' He said, making you blush.

------

A week went by, the video was finally out, and you and Trent made sure to watch it immediately.

Most parts were cut out, making the video way shorter than the hour it actually took to film it, but of course, the part about your relationship was kept in, and you dreaded opening the comments to see people's opinions.

'Sancho is the real wingman.' Said one person.

'They've got the best bromance.' Said another.

'Wish my mate would set me up with his sister.' You repeated, reading one of the comments that the two of you found hilarious. Most of the comments were extremely supportive, all of them finding it adorable that Jadon was the reason for your relationship, being in awe of you both.

'This one's me favourite, "gonna be awkward when they break up" but we're not gonna break-up babe.' Said Trent.

'I'd hope not, I think Jadon would be the most heartbroken.' You explained, shutting your laptop as you'd read almost all of the comments.

'Oh he would would he?' Trent said, teasing you.

'Yes, yes he would, because he loves you like a brother.' You told him, seeing Trent's face light up.

'That's sweet that, he doesn't have to worry though because luckily I love his sister even more.' He revealed, puckering his lips like a child for you to kiss, making you giggle like a fool.

The video soon blew up, with it gaining tons of new likes, views and comments, a majority still positive but the minority not being able to stand the three of you, only providing entertainment for your lazy night in as you re-read their negative comments and laughed, no one knowing how strong your relationship was but you guys.

#trent imagine #trent x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold x reader #jadon sancho fluff #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho imagines #football fluff #footballer x reader #football imagine #football blurb #football fanfic #football imagines #mason mount imagine #football one shot #trent alexander arnold fluff

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demigodofhoolemere · 6 months

Text

Things I can't stop thinking about from Steven and Vicki's Tales of the TARDIS episode

- This reunion. Seeing them together again kills me anyway, but when you look at the context of the last time they saw each other, both of them could have easily thought the other might be dead. The last Vicki saw of Steven he was bleeding out and slipping away from consciousness, and to Steven he woke up to learn that they'd left Vicki in a city that was being razed to the ground and its inhabitants slaughtered. There wasn’t a proper goodbye and neither could have known for sure whether the other had survived. These are two people who must have spent decades of their lives just hoping and praying that the other was okay.

They take each other's presence in like it’s a miracle. I don’t know if they intentionally wrote/acted this with that particular context of their last time together in mind, but nevertheless it can very easily be read that way since their reactions lend themselves to it so well.

- ^ In particular, Steven’s voice breaks in a way that absolutely destroys me.

- Is this girlish giggling not the most Vicki thing you’ve ever seen?

- There are certain moments that just really hit as, ‘This is them.’ I mean, look at her. That’s Vicki. It keeps blowing my mind.

- Steven is SO happy to see her again, oh my word. “I’ve got my little sister back!” is gonna live in my mind for the rest of my life. To have that dynamic acknowledged in those words and to see how much they love each other kills me. Look at this unreserved fluff. This means the world to me.

- Hearing that they’ve had wonderfully happy lives is so nice. Vicki could have been dealing with all kinds of turmoil given the time she chose to stay in, and with Steven’s luck he could have had literally anything happen to him, like Big Finish decided to do. I’m so glad they’ve been given full and happy lives onscreen, that Vicki has done so well in such a wildly different time and that Steven’s bad luck curse is finally broken. (The trauma curse is broken at least — it’s too much of a stretch for me to believe that he wouldn’t still have mundane bad luck lol.)

- Someone needs to either sue Peter for these faces or give him an award. There is so much emotion going on here and I can barely handle it. And knowing how much Peter truly loved this show and his time on it, I get the feeling some of this is real for him.

- “Vicki, this might not be his TARDIS. I mean, can you imagine the Doctor wearing something like this?” Well I’m sure as heck imagining it now! Someone PLEASE make fan art of One in Six’s coat.

- Their reverence for the Doctor’s pocket watch. Vicki is so happy and clutches it with joy and Steven stares at it and strokes it for a good minute. 💗

- Love having some skeptical Steven wondering if it could be a trap and warning Vicki to be careful. His older brother mode got reactivated so fast. And, “Don’t be such a spoilsport!” is so delightfully Vicki.

- Space helmet for a cow!!!

- “Well, it had been a busy week.” Lol, more like a busy (or not so busy) 2 years on Mechanus! You’re more than excused!

- I know it was naturally gonna happen because they’re going over The Time Meddler but I love the references to the Monk, and I love that we also get a subtle reference to The Daleks’ Master Plan out of it.

- Another one of those moments that just strikes you. Look at him.

- “He rescued me. I was an orphan and he became my family. I became the granddaughter he’d lost.” 😭

- Vicki’s little, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” dance is so perfectly Vicki. It warms my heart how well-characterized they both are here.

- Anyone else see this and immediately start crying thinking about her putting her hands over her eyes in The Chase? Just me?

- Steven’s face when he agrees with her about wishing more than anything to see the Doctor again. I love his relationship with the Doctor so much, it kills me to see him emotional about it, to see how much he still loves him after all this time. But on top of it, once again I feel like there’s some genuine Peter in here who misses Bill. You can see in a lot of interviews, panels, commentaries and so on that Peter really truly cared about Bill as his friend and is still protective over him as a person and his character. When Steven makes this face in agreement about wishing he could just see the Doctor again, I feel something else very real in it.

- Look at them. Just look at them. No further comment.

- Vicki’s face hearing the Doctor’s laugh is my face.

I still haven’t been able to get through this without crying at his laugh. I don’t really have the words for how magical and touching it is that they included him in that way. It tugs on my heartstrings so hard.

#classic who #tales of the tardis #vicki pallister #steven taylor #spoilers #cannot stop thinking about them #this was such a love letter to the era and these characters #and to me who keeps crying #these two are so important to me

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hairstevington · 1 year

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Stranger Therapy - part 4!

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve and Eddie have an awkward encounter and end up telling Robin what's been going on. Their third session with Murray does not go as planned. Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3K, follow-up to part 1 part 2 and part 3!

Warnings: Smooooches, idiot gays being awkward, GAY PANIC AS ALWAYS, what even is the fake dating vs real dating line anymore, Murray is kind of an ass, but also he's right, cameo from loml Robin Buckley, sexual tension and release baybeeee

A/N: Here you have it folks - the much awaited part 4! I never expected this to blow up, and while I have a few scattered ideas of where I could take the story, I think I will leave it at these four parts. A few readers suggested an epilogue so I’ll probably do that, otherwise thank you for following along! xx

Steve’s apartment was somehow both neat and incredibly cluttered. It was like one of those images where the longer you stare at it, the more weird shit you see.

“That’s a really big poster of a can of soup you got there,” Eddie said.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled. “Robin has a, uh - a unique taste in decor.” Eddie smiled.

“Explains the random bowling pin as a centerpiece, too.”

“Actually, that one is mine,” Steve admitted. “Stole it from a bowling alley when I was sixteen and now it just kind of follows me everywhere.”

“Wow,” Eddie laughed. “So your life of crime literally haunts you.”

“More like,” Steve countered, “I dunno what else I’m gonna do with it at this point. How am I supposed to throw out a bowling pin?”

“I meannnn.” Eddie mimed shooting a basketball. “Straight to a dumpster, I’d think.”

It wasn't an unpleasant conversation, by any means. It was like their usual banter, except one thing was different - now, they were in Steve’s apartment, and they’d just told each other they wanted to date in a non-fake way, but they may have already been doing that, and Jesus Christ we’re a mess.

“Can I get you anything?” Steve asked. Eddie followed Steve to the kitchen and heard Steve go over an assortment of beverage options, but Eddie was too distracted to really listen. He quickly realized if he didn’t pick something, Steve would just keep naming things, so he just blurted out -

“Uh - I’m good, actually.” Steve closed the fridge and leaned against it, as if he was waiting for further instruction. “So, what now?”

“I have no idea,” Steve answered. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Me neither,” Eddie agreed. “Although I do have one idea.”

Eddie took a step closer to Steve and put one arm on either side of him, caging him against the fridge door.

“Oh,” Steve muttered quietly.

“This is okay, right?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded.

And it all would have been fine, in any other situation. Eddie had kissed many people before, and it hardly ever gave him pause. But there was something about kissing Steve, the vulnerability of it all, and the way they were crossing a physical boundary after blowing past so many emotional ones already, that made this feel different.

“What’s taking so long?” Steve teased with a smirk.

“I, uh -” Jesus Christ, just kiss the guy. What the hell is wrong with me? “Oh, fuck. I’m, like, nervous?” Eddie released Steve from the fridge and took a few steps away.

“You’re getting all in your head about it, right?” Steve asked. “Uh, okay. So, does it help if I say I really want to kiss you?” Eddie pivoted on his heels to face Steve again.

“Yeah, that helps,” he said. “Okay, I think we gotta just, like, do it.” Steve chuckled.

This time, Eddie moved quickly and with more enthusiasm - so much so in fact that their foreheads clashed together.

“Oh, shit!” Steve exclaimed. “You trying to kiss me or concuss me?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie said, mortified. “Okay, well this has been fun. We’ve had a great run. I obviously have to disappear forever now.”

Eddie really would have left and never looked back, except Steve didn’t look embarrassed or offended or even disappointed in any way. Instead, he was smiling.

“Dude, you are thinking way too hard about this,” he noted. “Come here.” Steve pulled Eddie back to him by the arm and swiftly kissed him on the lips. It was just a peck - just enough to make contact and break the initial barrier. “See? Easy.”

Yeah, it was easy. Very, very easy. So easy in fact that Eddie found himself immediately chasing Steve’s lips and kissing him again.

He was just about to melt into it when the door burst open, sending the boys flying apart like shrapnel.

“Steve!” Robin greeted. Her gaze drifted to a blushing Eddie. “And guest,” she smirked. “It’s about time you came over. It’s been what - three weeks? Most gay people elope by this point.”

She was obviously joking, entirely unfazed by the whole situation. She walked in and set her stuff down as if nothing was different than usual, then grabbed a poptart from the kitchen cabinet - completely ignoring the tension in the room.

“Nice to, um -” Eddie began. “Finally meet you. Or, meet you again, I guess.”

“Likewise,” Robin said, her mouth full. She plopped herself down on the couch and turned the TV on.

“I wanna tell her,” Steve whispered.

“Tell her what? That I just gave you head trauma?”

“No!” he said. “About, like, all of it.”

“Why?”

“Because I tell her everything and now it’s weird.”

“You guys do realize I have ears, right?” Robin said from the couch. Eddie sighed.

“Fine, tell her.”

“Tell me what?” she asked. Steve and Eddie shared one last panicked glance before Steve took a deep breath to share the secret he’d been keeping for way too long.

“So, you know how Eddie and I went to couples counseling as a joke for the first date?” Robin nodded. “We, uh - we’ve still been going every week.”

“What?” Robin asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re that committed to the bit? Hasn’t it gotten old yet?”

“That’s the thing,” Eddie interjected. “We’re not going as a joke anymore.”

There was a thick silence in the room.

“So you - wait.” Robin stood up as if pacing would help her understand the messed up situation they’d gotten into. “So you’re - okay but you - what?”

“We’ve been going to therapy and working on our own shit,” Steve clarified.

“Yeah, but like - together,” Eddie added.

“That’s a thing?” she asked.

“It is 100% not a thing,” Eddie replied. “But Dr. Bauman is a fucking genius.”

“He still thinks we’ve been dating for years,” Steve said.

“But we haven’t really gone out much outside of sessions,” Eddie noted.

“Until today,” Steve continued.

“Right,” Eddie nodded. “Today.”

Robin stared at them both for a few moments, contemplating what she’d just learned. Eddie couldn’t believe this was how he was being introduced to Steve’s best friend, but ah well. She’d figure out he was a little unhinged eventually anyway.

Suddenly, she was laughing. It was more of a cackle, really. She bent over and clutched her stomach, she was laughing so hard.

“What?” Steve asked, thoroughly confused.

“You both are such dinguses,” she said in between fits of giggling. “The therapist totally knows.”

“What? No he doesn’t,” Steve denied.

“He’d stop seeing us if he did, right?” Eddie wondered.

“Not if you’re paying him, oh my god.” Robin chuckled again, her laughter dying down. She wiped a tear from her eye. “So, you two aren’t even actually dating?”

“Uhhhh -”

“Not…yet?” Steve answered. “We were about to, um -”

Robin cut them off with another burst of laughter.

“This is the stupidest and best thing you’ve ever done, Harrington,” Robin sighed. “And you’ve done a lot of stupid things.”

“Yeah, I believe that,” Eddie agreed.

The mood was kind of over after that, so Eddie promised Steve he’d text him and then bolted out the door.

All of that - every single part of it - went the exact opposite of how it was supposed to go.

Steve: I thought I saw Dr. Bauman at the grocery store, panicked, and hid behind the cantaloupes.

Steve: (It wasn’t him)

Eddie: hahahahhahahahaha

Eddie: did the imposter see you?

Steve: Only a little bit

Eddie: Hmm. Maybe you’d have better luck behind the bananas

Steve: Regular or organic?

Eddie: i set you up for a really good dick joke there and THATS what you came up with??

Steve: Come on, your joke was low-hanging fruit.

Steve: You’re gonna make a balls joke now aren’t you

Eddie: You’re learning!!

Eddie: I mean pshhh no i wasn’t

Steve: ;)

Steve: Sorry about earlier. We still ok?

Eddie: Yeah

Eddie: I’m actually really busy this week and probably can’t see you until our next appt

Eddie: That’s not a line I promise, I actually really fucking like you and want to see you again

Steve: hiiii this is robin, the man is currently too stunned to speak but you guys are cute albeit very dumb

Steve: ff okjasd poik

Steve: SHIT sorry I told her not to send anything

Eddie: so she reads all our texts too?

Steve: Only the ones that make me blush

Steve: …so, most of them yeah

Steve: See you in therapy 😘

As promised, Steve picked Eddie up this time for their meeting with Dr. Bauman. He was a little antsy, just knowing how they’d left things the last time. Like - they’d kissed, but only for a second. It hardly counted, honestly. It’s not like they were officially together now. Steve couldn’t kiss Eddie as he sat down in the passenger seat, even though he wanted to. He couldn’t hold his hand as they drove to the office, but knew Eddie’s innermost thoughts and feelings about his dad going to prison. None of it made sense. They’d created something brand new.

“Now look who’s thinking too hard,” Eddie said with a smirk. Steve realized how focused he must have looked and relaxed the muscles in his face.

“Yeah, whoops,” he replied.

“Relax,” Eddie responded. “This is the part we’ve done a few times before already.”

“Yeah,” Steve repeated. “Do you think Robin was right? Do you think he’d still work with us even if he knew we lied to him?”

“I mean, probably. Wanna find out?”

“No!” Steve answered. “I mean, well what if Robin’s wrong and he drops us?”

“Hmm,” Eddie said, stroking the stubble on his chin - which, by the way, was something Steve thought people only did as a joke. Somehow, Eddie made the cartoonish, exaggerated, theatrical behaviors seem charming and normal. “We could ask him about it hypothetically.”

“Eddie,” Steve muttered. “That’s a dead giveaway.”

“Yeah, but if we never admit to it, he has no proof,” Eddie countered.

“Except he could prove we haven’t been dating in like a hundred different ways,” Steve argued.

“Ah, shit. You’re right,” Eddie agreed. “I’d say we could try to be subtle about it, but that’s not really my specialty.”

“You? Not subtle?” Steve teased.

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie responded.

“No arguments there,” Steve said. Without thinking about it, he grabbed Eddie’s hand and held it, and it didn’t feel like a big deal in the slightest.

“Something is different.”

It took Murray all of two seconds to read the change in energy between them. He’d figured it would be a week until they figured out they had it bad for each other, and he suspected he’d been correct. He usually was, but then again - there was nothing usual about this.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked. Murray clocked the way the question made the boys squirm.

“I have something I want to discuss today!” Eddie loudly announced, putting all attention on himself.

“Alright,” Murray said, urging him to proceed. Now Eddie seemed to be the more anxious of the two.

“It’s about the intimacy thing,” he began. “Like, why am I more nervous to do physical stuff now? I mean - why would I be awkward about it now when in the past I’ve never - I mean, we’ve never had an issue with that?” Steve looked completely shocked by the question - not because he was offended by it, just surprised that Eddie was asking.

Murray had to keep himself from grinning at the confirmation that yes, he was in fact always right.

“Well,” Murray answered, “your relationship is going through a transitional period as you’re learning more about each other in a non-sexual way. So, physical intimacy might feel different than it used to.”

“How do I make it not feel different?” Eddie asked.

“The real question is, what feels different about it?” Murray countered.

“Uhhh well, I’m definitely attracted to him. I just wanna like,” Eddie did some vague hand gestures that Murray assumed were supposed to mean sex. “You know? Like, all the time. But then I actually try to do it and I freeze up.”

“Steve, what are your thoughts on this?”

“I guess I don’t really have that problem,” Steve replied, running his hands through his hair. “I’m like, good to go.” Eddie’s face went pale except for the blush of his cheeks.

“Interesting,” Murray noted. “And when you both were sneaking around at the beginning of your relationship, how did the intimacy make you feel?”

Eddie thought about how he’d gotten no action in high school, but he certainly would have loved to run away with Steve at the time, given the chance. Although, his virgin ass would never have had the guts to do anything. Meanwhile, Steve thought about how he had just started to come to terms with his attraction to men his senior year. Neither of them so much as kissed a guy until well after graduation.

Clearly, there was no way for them to answer Murray’s question and solve their real life predicament.

“Fine,” Eddie replied.

“Mhm. Normal,” Steve added.

The issues that these boys were facing, the real ones anyway, they were all deeply important to dig into and process. But Murray couldn’t really do that when half of the time, they were trying to cover their own asses.

“Okay,” Murray sighed. “We’ve known each other about a month now, so I think it’s time we cut the crap.”

“About what?”

“Spare me the denial, boys, I’ve seen right through you since you stepped into my office.” Murray watched as Eddie and Steve processed what was being implied. When they remained quiet, he continued. “Come on! I know you guys have been lying to me this whole time about your relationship. Tell me - are you doing some sort of weird role play? Are you long-time friends pulling an elaborate and extremely expensive prank? Or does one of you not have health insurance, so you’re sharing the love? Spill it.”

“Damn. Robin was right.”

“We can never tell her.”

“Should we make a run for it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Dumbasses!” Murray exclaimed. “I can hear you! Come on, the jig is up. Am I wrong?” Eddie and Steve looked at each other, then shrugged.

“You’re not not wrong,” Eddie replied.

“We’re not going to get arrested for, like, fraud or anything, right?” Steve asked.

“No,” Murray answered. “It’s your money, and I think we’ve done good work here. We still have some time if you want my actual professional advice on anything, by the way.”

“And after that?” Eddie wondered. “Like, is this our last session with you?”

“Why don’t you just tell me the truth from the beginning and we’ll go from there?” he replied.

So, they did. They explained how they met, how they decided to continue seeing Dr. Murray, how they paused their real-life dating, and how they shared a brief, awkward kiss.

“But the thing is, Doc,” Eddie finished. “We actually feel like it’s going well. So, if we promise to just be ourselves, can we keep doing this?”

“This is fascinating,” Murray muttered. “I didn’t realize you two didn’t know each other at all prior to this. Hmm.” He looked through his notes and thumbed through a few books on his shelf, pondering how to move forward. “What we’ve been doing is most like group therapy, I’d say, since you two haven’t seen each other much outside of our sessions. Most of the time, group therapists advise members not to meet up or form relationships outside of the group meetings, so they can focus on themselves in session. It sounds like you do both want to work on your own personal issues, outside of your budding relationship with each other.” Murray continued to consider the ethics of the situation, what he knew so far about the boys, and what he knew about the usual protocol regarding termination of clients. Since this was new territory, Murray could basically do what he thought was best, given the circumstances. “If you want to keep working together, I am willing to do so. But I recommend not seeing each other outside of this, to prevent conflict of interest.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “So, no dating.”

“That would fall under the category of ‘seeing each other outside of this,’ so yes Steve, that’s correct.”

“So, Dr. Bauman was kind of a dick today,” Eddie stated as they walked to Steve’s car.

“Yeah, he kind of was,” Steve agreed. “I mean, he’s good at what he does, so maybe we should listen to him.”

They made it to the car and paused, enjoying the warm weather against their skin. Steve leaned against the driver’s side door, and Eddie joined beside him.

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie sighed. “Because we want to keep seeing him.”

“Right,” Steve responded. Eddie turned his head to face Steve - Big mistake. Steve looked fucking amazing in the sunlight. “So, if he says we should stay apart, then -”

Eddie closed the gap between them and kissed Steve the way he’d been wanting to since they started this whole goddamn thing. He breathed in the scent of Steve’s cologne that had been teasing him and driving him mad. He gripped the bicep that commanded his attention any time it was in view. He ran his hands through the hair that felt just as soft as it looked.

“Bad idea?” Eddie mumbled into Steve’s lips.

“Don’t care,” Steve replied, returning the kiss with fervor.

Murray collected his notes from the day and stacked them neatly before filing them, as he always did before lunch. He glanced out the window to check that the weather was still nice, then sighed as he caught a glimpse of something else.

Do these idiots seriously not remember that my office faces the parking lot?

(epilogue found here)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@escapingthereality @imfinereallyy @raisedbylibrarians @samthemissfit @chaoticvictorianspirit @elizbaehth @despoenaandpyromania @cr0w-culture @bagofgreentea @f1ct1onwh0re @novelnovella @thing-a-ling @bisexualdisastersworld @practicallybegging @soldiers00 @beckkthewreck @fandomz-brainrot @shrimply-a-menace @justanothergirlwithobsessions @freshflowers-and-dryingherbs @satan-is-obsessed @best-selling-show @micheledawn1975 @smolalien13 @sundead @rosered93 @nikboi @thehunterofsleep @havlindzk

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#steddie #stranger therapy #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fic #steve and eddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #st fanfic #writing #modern au

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