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#it's a match! fic
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YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓
Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
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I was only going to post these when I finished writing and everything but I'm just... SO FUCKING EXCITED 😭😭
spoiler: Johnny and Kyle are the ones managing Price's account (took covert pics of the captain) but they ask Ghost how to answer the questions and DMs in order to have "the right tone of voice" LMAO
I'll post the actual drabbles soon!!! 🙏
If you'd like to be tagged when this comes out, lmk! (via dm, question or even here) THE TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED, not accepting any more requests! (I'm sorry, there's just too many people on it)
[Read the FIC]
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nightthinker-08 · 6 months
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I couldn't sleep so I drew some Pomnies shes surprisingly fun to draw lol Oh and some doomed yuri too I guess xD buttonblossom is cute n all but calling them doomed yuri or digital yuri is a lot funnier to me
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shalpilot · 1 month
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if i can just reach him,
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hellbornsworld · 6 months
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Jungkook Fanfic Recommendation(6)₊˚🪻๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ 🌿☁️
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𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
🍃 Mistake | Idol!Jungkook x Reader | Series | @ugotnojamzzz
🍃 karma is coming | punk!Jungkook x preppy!female reader | Oneshot | @folkookie97
🍃 birthday boy | husband!jk x wife!reader | Married couple au | Oneshot | @jeonfics
🍃 nowhere with you. | jungkook x reader | Oneshot | @13lov
🍃 Dearly Beloved | Yandere!Jungkook X Reader | Series | @bonny-kookoo
🍃 test your morality | Bff!Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @trivia-yandere
🍃 Vérités Cachées | Jungkook x Reader. | Oneshot | @bangtanficsforyou
🍃 say it | jungkook x fem!reader | Oneshot | @peachypinkygloss
🍃 Ungodly Hour | Simp!Jungkook X Reader | @explicit-tae
🍃 I think we’re soulmates | Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @rkivepetals
🍃In Motion | Jungkook x reader | Series | @yoonia
🍃older | older!jungkook x afab reader | Oneshot | @jungkookschin
🍃make you scream | jungkook x camgirl!reader | Oneshot | @13lov
🍃peek-a-boo! | Stranger!Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @namfinessed
🍃August | JK X Reader | @kimchitaebae
🍃you’ll let me? | shy!oc x shy!jk | Oneshot | @honeytae
🍃drabble | sugar daddy!dilf!jungkook x f!reader | @strwb3rrynini
🍃Jailbird | prisoner!jk x officer!reader | Teaser | @jkslipppiercing
🍃Fine Line | Jungkook X Reader | Enemies to lovers | @bangtanficsforyou
🍃Affection and Seduction | Jungkook x Reader | Series | @trina864
🍃the lottery offering | Jungkook X Reader | Oneshot | @skswriting
🍃“wanna play you like a game” | villian? antagonist! tribe leader jk x princess! y/n | Series | @lilliankoo
🍃New Beginnings | werewolf!jeongguk x reader | Oneshot | @gukeobi
🍃Room 109 | alpha!jungkook X omega!reader | Oneshot | @lavishedinjimin
𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸𓇢𓆸
🍃Divine Intervention | Jungkook x Goddess!Reader | Oneshot | @minisugakoobies
MASTERLIST here
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pjs-everyday · 6 months
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Dance 🕺🏼💃🏻✨ // Twiyor Month @twiyorbase
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starflungwaddledee · 4 months
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from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7
message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "
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ceilidho · 1 month
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dubcon ish
reader having a sexual revelation and telling Ghost "I need you to pin me down when we're having sex and make me think that I can't get away from you" and Ghost just cocks an eyebrow like "you thought you could get away from me?"
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mrslectermoriarty · 2 months
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Hear me out:
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Mav on leave, playing Super Spies with Bradley in the house, running around and trying not to break anything (they fail)
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Ice finally coming home from work and hearing their laughter from outside, being both happy (that they have so much fun) and afraid (that they burn the kitchen again)
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omaano · 5 months
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“How’d you get stuck with babysitting duty anyway?” Boba asked one day during dinner. “Oh, I volunteered for this,” Fox told him. “Why the kark would you do that?” “Language,” Fox admonished. “Well, I was just living my normal boring life and I thought to myself, ‘I don’t get called an ugly piece of banthashit often enough.’ So I decided to adopt you.” Boba snorted. “You’re a psychopath,” he told Fox. “I’ve been called worse,” Fox replied breezily. Boba doesn’t find a new family and Fox doesn’t become anybody’s dad; an adoption story.
@bilbosmom-belladonna commissioned me to illustrate a scene from her delightful fic Trying to Escape What You Can't Let Go. She was amazing to work with and you should absolutely check out her fun little found family story!
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aaron-romave · 8 months
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My Only Sunshine
It was a quiet night in Gotham, when suddenly the coms crackle to life, with a voice, that seemingly none of the bats recognized. That is all but one. Damians blood ran cold as he heard something that should not be possible. He had never even let himself think about it, because even recalling the mere memory of it would shatter him. 
The other night, dear
As I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you 
In my arms
Batman's voice was the first to come over the coms “oracle who is this? Where are they?”
“I’m working on it B.” She crackle back in her slightly mechanical disguised voice.
When I awoke, dear
I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried
Oracle may not have known where it was coming from, but he did. He knew it as he knew the heart beating in his chest and the air within his lungs. Without thinking he leapt off the building, grappling across the city that his father loved, but he has never thought of as his true home.
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy 
When skies are gray
He was vaguely aware as Batman cried out for him, but that didn’t matter. His blood was rushing too quickly through his ears. Any protest or question simply ignored. He had somewhere he needed to be, and he needed to be there now. 
You'll never know, dear
How much I love you
Please don't take 
My sunshine away
“Oracle location!”
“I’m trying B! But these people are good I can’t work faster than I am!”
Was the last thing that came over the coms before he reached up and muted everyone, everyone but the voice he was focused on. The world had narrowed down to the wind whipping past him, his heartbeat in his ears and the one voice that he had wish to hear again for so long.
I'll always love you and make you happy 
And nothing else could come between
His lungs burned as Wayne industries came in to view. Why? Why of all nights was he on the outskirts of the city?  He needed to move faster, faster, please be fast enough. He begged to himself, to whatever god was out there be fast enough ….and for him to be there for this not to be some sort of cruel trick.
But if you leave me to love another 
I’ll support you as you follow your dreams
It was him. It had to be him. only he knew to sing it that way.  His brother quietly singing and holding him as he silently cried. He was never good enough for grandfather, he will never be good enough to be the heir to be excepted never daring, hopeing to be loved, but it was never like that with his brother. His brother loved him more than anything, and he couldn’t stop anything as grandfather ran his sword through the heart of the one person he truly loved. Through the heart of Damien’s one weakness. 
You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy 
When skies are gray
Even at the end, when his brother knew grandfather was coming for him, his too kind brother never forced him. Always giving him a choice and he had failed his brother when he was willing to give up everything for someone as weak and pitiful as him. He wasn’t strong enough to run. He wasn’t strong enough to protect the one person who loved him above all else. 
You'll never know, dear
How much I love you
Please don't take 
My sunshine away
He was so close three minutes out. Almost there the highest spot in the city, the best place to see the stars. 
Northstar, I’m so happy you made it out. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.
My Northstar please stop blaming yourself. This was my choice. It was always my choice and I don’t regret a second of it so neither should you. You are without a second of doubt the best thing to have ever happened to me. 
Damien felt a pit open up in his stomach.  Less than two minutes to Wayne enterprises
You have to let the others in Northstar. Being family to them, loving them it’s not replacing me or dishonoring me. Quite the opposite Northstar it’s keeping me alive; In a different way, but I’m still with you. 
Go on brother adventures with Dick, try things that make you uncomfortable, but know that he will keep you safe. 
Spend time with Babs in the library, read books that let you travel to fantastical worlds that we could never dream of.
Go to Jason for advice. You two are more alike than you even know, lean on each other, use that. 
Try photography with Tim. Take pictures of all those animals that you love.
Less than one minute
Pull pranks with Stephanie. Let yourself be a kid and laugh at stupid and dumb things. 
When things get too much go to Cass for quiet and understanding.
Go to Duke and ask him to take you out shopping at a regular store or to go to the mall to buy a toy for yourself. Enjoy the normal quiet moments.
Go to Bruce for comfort, he is Batman but he is also our dad don’t forget that, let him be a dad.  
The world went blurry. There is no one on the roof. 
Northstar I’m gone. I really am gone. You know how magic is Northstar your big brother had a few tricks up his sleeve, but I’m afraid this used the last of it. In the future in the far, far, far, future when you come join me in the hereafter, I’ll be waiting for you with open arms. I love you, Northstar now let our family love you in my stead. 
As his feet made contact with the roof of Wayne enterprises a small, glowing object made it self known in the center of the roof. It appeared that stars itself littered and sprung from the object, beckoning him forward. 
He was vaguely aware of the rest of the bats and birds joining him on the roof, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that his shaking hand was reaching out to grab the old dog stuffed animal as the last glitters of Stardust left the plush.
A drop of water fell down and landed on the left ear of the love worn dog. Reaching up and touching below the domino he realize that he was crying. When did that happen? When was the last time this happened?
As he clutched the dog plush to his chest, a frivolity that would have never been allowed in the league, but still his brother who he loved most in this world snuck it in for him. Hiding it behind a loose stone in the wall. Bringing it out for him to hold as his big brother comforted him and told him stories of a better life that they could have. 
The demons heir, Robin, Damien sobbed, cried for the injustice of the world, for his brother who even waiting for him in the hereafter was still looking out for him. 
His body shook as wave after wave of agony and despair ripped through him. Years of repressed grief tore through his body sharper and with more deadly aim than any blade. The floodgates had been opened. His big brother had given him this one last gift. 
So when Batman, his father, his dad crouched down in front of him concern showing through his usual stoic expression he does not ignore what his brother has given him and leaps forward, clutching onto his dad and weeping for the brother that he lost and the son his dad will never get to know.
( inspired by this)
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YOU MATCH THE 141 ON TINDER 💓
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Summary:
While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
Pairing:
141 x Reader
poly!141 x Reader
The Beginning:
Teaser
Legend:
Red - Johnny
Orange - Kyle
Blue - John
Purple - Simon
Green - All of them
Chapters:
Prequel
1 - Kyle
2 - Johnny
3 - Simon
4 - John?
5 - GETTING LAID?
6 - John.
7 - Getting Laid!! 😈🌶️
8 - Awooga?
9 - Drinks?
10 - SIMON?!
11 - Excuse me?
12 - A date?
13 - Yes, and?
14 - (B)romance?
15 - Mo leannan
16 - Teeth.
17 - Guard dogs.
18 - Picnic.
19 - Slippery Slope. 😈🌶️
20 - Control 😈🌶️
21 - I BEG YOUR PARDON?
22 - What is it about you?
22.5 - Cardiff, London, Cairo, Cabo, Tel Aviv. 😈🌶️(mini chapter)
23 - Kiss and Tell?
24 - Pokémon
25 - Soap..................?
26 - Smart mouth 😈🌶️
Pre-27 - Away (mini chapter)
27 - Peace and Quiet
28 - How in the-
29 - Taking Turns
30 - Playing House.
31 - Uh-Oh.
32 - No Harm Done.
More chapters - COMING SOON!
Click here to see some fanart of "it's a match" chapter 14 "(B)romance)?" by my lovely moot @xxshadowbabexx.
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THE TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED, not accepting any more requests! (I'm sorry, there's just too many people on it)
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@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark
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metalhoops · 1 year
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“I think I’m seeing things, man,” Eddie spoke from his spot on the Harrington’s couch. His white skin appeared paler still against the brown leather. 
Steve didn’t blame him. He was on all kinds of painkillers. It’d been two weeks since the world fell apart. Two weeks since Vecna disappeared. Two weeks since Eddie almost died. 
Steve liked to treat those memories as others treated head-on collisions. It was better not to look at them directly. It was better to treat it like it’d never happened. 
“What’re we looking at?” Steve asked from his spot on the floor, following Eddie’s line of sight to the gap in the curtains. 
“Don’t know. Thought I saw somebody outside,” Eddie confessed. 
The Harrington house had always been filled with spectres, whether that of partygoers, like front lawn flamingos in need of an exorcism or the body in the backyard pool. But those were Steve’s hang-ups, not Eddie’s. 
If all it took to be a ghost was to haunt, Eddie might be included in the ranks of his own private phantasmagoria. He kept checking each night to make sure the boy was really there, that he’d really gotten out. People shouldn’t have that much blood in them, and they definitely shouldn’t have that much blood out of them. 
Steve went to the window because that was something he could do for Eddie. He wasn’t sure why he kept feeling the need to apologise. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but hell if Steve knew if he’d done anything right either. He’d gotten Eddie out of the Upside Down. He’d put his hands inside the boy’s body, shoved his shirt beneath his skin and held it in the dark cavity that oozed and throbbed warm blood like the rise and fall of the tide.
Don’t think about it. Check the window. His hands at his side felt cold. He wondered if they’d ever be warm again. There was a figure across the street. 
A boy in a basketball jersey circled passed the house. 
Things never ended smoothly. Steve liked to think once Jason went down the rest of the vigilante crew would stop looking for Eddie, but there were some stragglers who hadn’t got the message. 
Hopper had his hands full trying to clear Eddie’s name. Eddie’s uncle was still looking for him. The whole town was holding their breath in the midst of destruction, waiting for someone to blame. Steve shut the curtains, turned the lights off and moved to Eddie’s side in the darkness. 
“Hounds of hell still circling then?” Eddie guessed after one glimpse at Steve’s face. 
“I’ll call Hopper,” Steve reasoned, reaching up to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Maybe to make sure he was real. Maybe to tell him he was sorry. 
“Don’t worry about it, Steve,” Eddie spoke, reaching out and snagging the hem of Steve’s sweater.
“No one thinks I’m here. If the cops show up at the Harringtons’ it’s going to turn some heads,” Eddie reasoned, and he was right.
So where did that leave them? Sitting alone in the dark with Eddie fading in and out of sleep and Steve watching car headlights dance across the curtains, waiting for the moment everything went wrong. 
“Steve?” Eddie breathed beside Steve’s ear in the blackness. He hadn’t realised they were so close. 
“Yeah?” Steve moved his eyes from the window to look at Eddie. 
“I think I’m crashing,” he noted, a grimace dancing across his face. Steve had never felt smaller. 
“Doc said we’ve gotta wait six hours,” Steve replied, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt. 
“How long’s it been?” 
“Three.” 
Steve always wanted to appear cool in times of crisis, but he had no idea what he was doing. Some of the government agents Steve had signed countless NDAs for over the past four years had patched Eddie up as best they could and had started scrambling for a cover-up. 
In the meantime, Eddie would stay at Steve’s place. It made the most sense. Eddie was nobody to Steve. No one would go looking for Eddie at the Harringtons’, and unlike the other older teens, he didn’t have parents to answer to. Big house. No parents. Perfect place to lie low. 
Steve was nobody to Eddie and yet for the past week, they’d been an island unto themselves, trapped indoors together, watching shadows on the walls and trying to keep each other alive and sane. He felt completely unprepared. 
“Alright. Come on. Let’s go to bed,” Steve muttered, kneeling in front of Eddie. He watched the boy rise to a sitting position over his shoulder. Eddie snorted.
“What exactly is the plan here, Steve?” 
Eddie had been stuck oscillating between the living room, kitchen, and downstairs bathroom for days. They could both use a change of scenery. 
“Piggyback,” Steve spoke, trying not to think about the connotations that the word had garnered. He wasn’t going to think about Vecna. Not today. 
He expected the boy to argue, but instead, he felt Eddie’s arms snake around his throat. He held tight, but not as tight as he should. Steve had to hold on to his forearms like backpack straps as he stood. Eddie’s legs were stronger. They held firm around Steve’s waist. 
Eddie’s head flopped against Steve’s shoulder blade, nuzzling into the space. He was warm as the sun. Too warm. He was running a temperature. Steve tried not to think of the last time he carried Eddie. The boy was uncharacteristically quiet. Steve needed to do something. 
“Saddle up, buckeroo,” Steve spoke, hoisting Eddie further up his back. He felt a puff of air against his neck, a barely there laugh. 
“Hi-yo, Silver,” Eddie grumbled against Steve’s skin. 
Steve moved deftly through the dark, taking the staircase slowly and methodically. The last thing either of them needed was another broken bone. 
“I think I owe you one once all this is over,” Eddie noted. Steve was already shaking his head.
“You stick around, and I’ll call it a favour. I think Henderson would kick my ass if you died.” 
“The kid’s got spunk. I’ll give him that,” Eddie noted as the two reached the top of the stairs. 
“He’s got an attitude and a problem with authority,” Steve corrected, taking Eddie to his bedroom.
He moved to the edge of his bed and let Eddie extract himself. When they broke apart, Steve felt cold again. 
“That’s our boy,” Eddie chuckled, shooting Steve a lopsided smirk. He was definitely still high on painkillers.
Steve rolled his eyes and helped lower Eddie down onto his favourite pillow, the one worn down with age but all the more comfortable for it. He pulled the covers up around the boy’s shoulders.
“Yeah, our boy,” Steve echoed in a too-fond tone. 
He’d never let Henderson hear the term of affection. The kid had a big enough head as it was, but in the too-quiet world of just himself and Eddie, he felt okay admitting it. Once it looked like Eddie was settled in, Steve sat on the edge of his bed, feeling as he always did, like a stranger in his own home. 
“When did you last get some shut-eye, boy wonder?” Eddie asked, his foot tucking beneath Steve’s thigh.  
Friday. What day was it? Sunday. Not good. 
“Well, come on then, don’t make a guy beg. Lay down, Steve. It’s your bed. I could sleep in the spare room if it’s a problem.” There was something cautious about the offer Steve didn’t understand. 
He flopped down beside Eddie, so close the two shared a pillow. It changed the shape of the thing. It made the familiar strange. 
“You know, I had this dream last night,” Eddie began, his dark eyes still open, glued to the ceiling. He cringed, knowing all the ways dreams could go bad, but Eddie shook his head.
“Not that kind of dream,” He insisted, his hands balling into fists on the bedsheets. 
“I had a dream I was a pinball machine,” the boy stated plainly. The absurdity of the statement shocked a laugh out of Steve. 
“These painkillers are legit, Harrington,” Eddie spoke, shooting Steve a sidelong glance. 
“What kind of pinball machine?” 
“You know the Centaur one? It’s black and white, mostly. The arts got this topless guy who’s half man, half motorbike,” Eddie explained. 
Steve had no idea what he was saying, but it was nice to hear him talk. 
“Wait, if you were the pinball machine, how did you know what you looked like?” 
“Great question Steven. I’ve got no clue. Dream logic,” Eddie reasoned.  
Steve screwed up his nose at the use of his full name. Only his dad called him Steven. Eddie raised a brow, seeming to take note. One of them had shifted closer. Steve wasn’t sure who. Eddie’s hand brushed against his side as he played with the sheets. 
“Remind me again why I needed to know about your pinball dream?” Steve asked. The sound of the wind in the trees outside his bedroom window set his teeth on edge. 
“Because you’re too damn serious and I thought it’d make you smile... Which it did.” Eddie added the last part in quietly and Steve rolled his eyes. 
Eddie craned his head to look around Steve’s room before screwing up his nose. 
“Anyone ever told you your wallpaper is gaudy as hell? Your curtains match your walls. Dude, I thought rich people were meant to have taste,” he observed, the boys’ shoulders pressed together. 
“This coming from the guy who eats cereal out of the box with his hands,” Steve countered, no heat in his voice. 
“Are you still mad I used to stand on your lunch table?” Eddie muttered, shoving Steve’s shoulder before tensing. When had Steve last checked his dressings? 
He flipped the bedside lamp on, leaning over Eddie to do so. He’d been helping the guy shower for days now. Privacy was a word reserved for other people. Intimacy was a necessity.  
“Once you stood in my mashed potatoes. It was disgusting,” Steve uttered, gently peeling up the hem of Eddie’s tee shirt. Really, it was Steve’s, but it seemed strange to make distinctions. 
Eddie’s eyes trailed down to Steve’s fingers, half-hooded and slowed with sleep or inebriation, Steve didn’t know which. He wondered how much of all this Eddie would remember when he got better. He would get better. 
“You never ate the potatoes. You’d bring your stupid bagels from home,” Eddie remarked, as Steve carefully unwound the bandage and gauze. It was stained brown with dried blood, but it looked better than it’d been a few days before, no longer as red or swollen.   
The bagel comment made Steve look up. Seemed like Robin wasn’t the only one that’d been watching him. Maybe Eddie had a crush on Tammy Thompson, too. Maybe it was something else. Steve’s friends had crappy taste in women. Eddie could do better. 
“What’s the verdict, doc?” Eddie questioned, noticing Steve’s sudden silence. 
He cleaned the wounds as best he could. Eddie’s fingers had found their way to Steve’s thigh, gripping so tight he thought it would bruise. It would be another to add to the collection. Steve hadn’t been thinking of how his battle wounds were healing. He was in triage mode. Eddie’s wounds were worse than his. 
“We're going to have to amputate,” Steve deadpanned as he found the first aid kit he’d hidden beneath his bed years before, starting to redress the wound. 
“How the hell can you amputate a side?” Eddie asked with a shaky laugh, his breathing more ragged again. 
“Well, you see, there’s this new experimental procedure that lets you transplant your brain into a pinball machine,” Steve began and felt Eddie’s elbow in his side. 
“Screw you.” 
Steve laid back beside Eddie, less space between them than before, if it was at all possible. They braced against each other, the contact grounding Steve. Eddie was alive. He was alive. Maybe one day they could look at each other and not think about death. That day wasn’t today, but Steve could hope for it. 
As Eddie drifted to sleep, his head fell on Steve’s shoulder. He wouldn’t sleep for long that night, but he was used to that. He knew the weeks and months after a run-in with the Upside Down were full of fitful sleep and nightmares, but they never lasted. 
On a long enough timeline, you could get used to anything. It was strange how short that timeline was when it came to getting used to Eddie. 
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More days came and went with the same imperfect routines. The two boys woke at all hours of the night and spent the daylight hours behind closed curtains, trying to heal. 
By the third day, Steve got sick of the quiet. A sombre mood hung over them, shifting and changing like the phases of the moon. It never entirely disappeared, but there were moments it seemed almost absent.  
One of these such moments arose when Steve hijacked the boombox from the living room and dragged it upstairs to his bedroom, where a slowly healing Eddie sat bored out of his mind, aching and itchy. Steve knew the feeling. The wound on his neck had scabbed and begun to fade into a scar. 
“Hey, Munson?” Steve spoke, sitting beside Eddie, spreading his tape collection between them. 
“You wanna hear some real music?” He asked, watching Eddie’s nose scrunch and his teeth worry away at his bottom lip.
“These are all horrible, Harrington.” 
Eddie turned over several cassettes in his hand, treating them gently as though they were something special.  
“You have every WHAM! album, dude. The Outfield. Halls & Oats. Tears for Fears,” Eddie listed off, his tone one of disgust. 
“You’re going to have to pick something, or I’ll pick WHAM! out of spite.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes and shuffled through the tapes, tossing one Steve’s way. 
“Bowie isn’t horrible,” Eddie mumbled as Steve placed The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, into the player. 
The two sat shoulder to shoulder, as always, listening to the quiet swell of drums. Steve realised too late it was a song about the end of the world. He realised, later still, that it was a love song. Eddie’s fingers drummed against his knee. Steve tried to ignore the way the action made his heart swell. 
Steve couldn’t sit still any longer as Moonaged Daydream began. He remembered another life in Nancy Wheeler’s garage, asking her to pretend things were normal for a couple of hours. God, he wanted that. He needed a few normal hours.
He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then, but parts of him had stayed the same. He didn’t know how to change them. Nancy Wheeler faced problems head-on, but Steve? The passage of time had taught him how to stand his ground in the face of danger, but he hadn’t yet learned how to stop being chased. 
He caught Eddie’s eye and watched as a wicked grin spread across his face. Without words, he knew exactly what Steve was about to do. He grabbed the nail bat he kept by the bed, the same one from the Wheeler’s garage and sang, using the gnarly weapon as his makeshift microphone. He was a little too loud and a little off-tune.  He sang about alligators and space invaders, lyrics he knew off by heart, without understanding them.
He watched as a grin threatened to crack Eddie’s face in two. There was a reckless abandon to his smile. It was different from the glazed-eyed, half-high smiles of the past week. His eyes were keen and sharp as he watched Steve fling himself across the room in the way only someone who’d learned to dance drunk could.
By the time the album finished, he’d worked up a sweat. Eddie joined in, singing a couple of lines when he could before tugging Steve back to bed, his hand in Steve’s hair, smoothing it back in place. The action was intimate, yet familiar.
“Alright, Starman. Maybe Bowie doesn’t suck so hard, but when I’m not on the run from the law, I’m going to show you what real music sounds like.” 
“Promise?” Steve asked, his chest heaving. 
Then, Eddie did something so unlike anything the populous of Hawkins would expect. To them, he was a Satanist and a murderer. Steve had always known better, but he’d seen Eddie as a wildcard. He was loud and rough around the edges, but he also had the capability of being endearing when the moment called for it. Still, Steve had never expected Eddie to roll over, extend his pinkie and link their little fingers together. 
“I promise,” He assured, placing his lips to the knuckle of his thumb as though sealing the deal. 
The action was equal parts childlike and intense. Steve looked down at their interlaced fingers and knew he was in over his head. Warmth pooled in Steve’s fingertips. 
“Eds, I—,” A knock at the downstairs door made the words die on Steve’s lips. The boys pulled apart. Steve was cold. 
“I’ll get it,” Steve spoke, picking up the discarded nail bat and trudging down the stairs. 
He hoped it was one of the door-knocking jocks. Some primal part of him felt like hitting something. Years before, he would have questioned if he was the kind of person who could do it, but now he knew he could. 
Steve clutched at the bat hidden behind his back as he swung open the door, coming face-to-face with an older man dressed in too-short jean shorts, holding an armful of paper bags. He looked familiar. He’d seen the man with Hopper. A furrow etched its way onto his brow. 
“Aren’t you going to let your beloved uncle in, Steve?” The man spoke, loud enough for the people in the next neighbourhood to hear. 
“Right,” Steve mumbled, pushing the door open and stepping to the side. 
The man walked through the house as though he’d grown up within their walls, dropping the paper bags on the countertop, switching on the lights and examining the space. 
“Hopper sent me with supplies. It’d draw too much attention having the feds at your front door, but a visit from your favourite Uncle Murray? That’s incognito. I’ve got groceries and painkillers, slipped in some vodka too, on the house. Personally, I was thinking of making my homemade ravioli for dinner. Trust me, it’s to die for. Where’s the other one by the way?” The man, Murray, breathed, spinning on his heels to examine the interior of the house.  Steve let his nail bat fall to the floor.
“You really should invest in a gun, kid...Was I interrupting something?” The older man asked, gesturing absentmindedly to his balding head. Steve touched his hair and found it still out of place. He ran his fingers through it in an attempt to tame it. 
“No, we... I was sleeping. Eddie’s upstairs. I think he’s okay, but I could use another set of eyes. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing here. Are you staying?”
“I’m just staying for dinner. It’d look strange if your uncle only showed up for a few minutes, wouldn’t it?” Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer. 
“There’s the man of the hour,” Murray spoke, glancing up at the top of the staircase where Eddie stood, leaning heavily on the banister. 
“What happened to staying up there?” Steve spoke through gritted teeth, making his way back up the stairs. 
“You were taking too long,” Eddie muttered with an unbothered shrug. 
“And if it’d been one of Jason’s asshole friends, we’d have been screwed,” Steve rebutted, letting Eddie lean on him as they made their way to Murray in the kitchen. At least he could walk.
“But it wasn’t,” Eddie huffed, his breath warm on Steve’s neck. 
Steve kicked out one of the kitchen chairs and lowered Eddie into it. The older man watched them as a scientist observes a specimen. There was a morbid fascination to it.
“I see you two are getting along well,” He spoke. 
He’d found where Steve’s mother had stored their pots and had begun some strange kitchen alchemy. Steve had made risotto. This guy looked like he was completing a summoning ritual. The ingredients were splayed out on the countertop like objects of adoration. 
Steve sat down in the chair beside Eddie. It felt strange having someone else in the house. For what seemed like a lifetime, his world had consisted of one other person. He missed Robin, Dustin, and the rest of the kids, but he hadn’t let himself dwell on it. He’d known their isolation couldn’t last forever, but he’d never have guessed Murray would be the first person he’d see.  
“Tense mood. Why is it I always end up in the middle of couples in denial?” Murray breathed to himself. 
Eddie’s head snapped up with a speed Steve hadn’t seen him manage all week. Steve didn’t look at Murray, he was too busy trying to unpick the pained look on Eddie’s face. His eyes searched the boy’s body for some torn open wound he’d missed. 
“What? Don’t look so surprised. Contrary to what kids these days think, we did have homosexuality in the sixties,” Murray informed before pausing. He gave Steve a once-over that made his skin crawl. He felt as though he were a bug, pinned beneath a glass plate. 
“And bisexuality,” He clarified. 
Steve averted his eyes and reached over to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He was hopelessly lost in the conversation, but he knew something was wrong with Eddie. The boy jumped at the sudden contact and Steve pulled his hand away as though burnt. 
“So, what’s the problem? Still in denial?” Murray asked, levelling Steve with a knowing look. He scowled back at the man, ready for him to leave. 
“No. I think you know how you feel, maybe even how he feels.” Steve didn’t know how to respond. 
“You, however,” Murray continued, turning his attention to Eddie, the boiling pot on the stove, forgotten.
“I don’t think you have a clue. Self-esteem issues, maybe. You try to hide it, but you couldn’t imagine that someone in a house like this would look at you twice.” 
“What the hell, man?” Eddie breathed with a huff of indignation. Murray showed no signs of stopping. His eyes were back on Steve. 
“So, what’s holding you back? You got your heart broken after Nancy Wheeler. Let me guess, you keep saying how much you want commitment, but you keep dating the wrong people, people who don’t want to be tied down. That, my boy, is self-sabotage and him,” Murray spoke, indicating Eddie with a wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the rice. 
“He looks like a long-haul kind of guy.” 
“Dude,” Eddie interjected. 
“What? You’re both obviously attracted to one another. Don’t lie. I have eyes. You’re telling me that all this near-death stuff hasn’t made you re-evaluate your life a little? It’s just been you two, locked away together at the end of the world, helping each other heal. Seeking comfort in one another. You’ve got shared trauma. That kind of thing bonds you for life.” 
“Leave it alone,” Steve said, standing as he spoke. The chair scraped on the tile floor. A nails on a chalkboard kind of sound. 
Steve pushed past the older man, pulled the pot off the stove, and let a tense silence settle over the three of them. The subsequent dinner dragged on in uncomfortable silence. Steve and Eddie kept their eyes glued to their plates. Murray talked but neither paid attention. He gave Eddie’s wounds a once over, appearing as lost as Steve. He didn’t seem concerned, so Steve took it as a good thing. 
He thought he’d known what tense silence between himself, and Eddie felt like, but he’d known nothing compared to the moment Murray left. His whole body was on edge. Eddie wouldn’t meet his eyes. They needed to talk, but neither wanted to be the first to cave. 
“I was thinking of turning in early,” Steve spoke, not knowing what else to say. 
“Yeah. Me too.” 
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The boys lay side by side, but sleep didn’t come. Eddie’s body was wound tight as a tourniquet. This time, Steve was the one bleeding out. 
He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. Maybe that he was sorry. Murray was right. Steve had known Eddie liked him and he hadn’t said anything because it wasn’t a problem he could throw himself in front of. It’d be easier if he thought telling Eddie would end up with him getting hit. There were worse things. 
Eddie’s feelings had become more apparent as their time together wore on, but on some level, Steve had known long before. When Eddie had leaned over into his space smelling of cigarette ash, dried earth and sweat and called Steve some god-awful pet name, he’d known. He also knew the feelings weren’t one-sided. 
That revelation came later. Eddie had been fading in and out of consciousness. Steve had shaken him awake to redress his wounds when it happened. The boy awoke, shooting him a lopsided grin, gazing at Steve with his drowsy, doe eyes.
He’d crooned, ‘Good morning sunshine’. And that had been enough. 
Steve’s heart had stuttered to a halt as it had all the times before when a pretty girl had called him a prettier name. 
As much as Steve hated to admit it, Murray had been right about a lot of things. There was one thing Steve desperately wanted him to be wrong about. 
He and Eddie were bonded because of what they’d been through. That’s what the man had said. Shared trauma. Was that all they were?
Steve was back in the bathroom with Nancy, her white shirt, red. The whites of his eyes the moment she left, red. 
He knew where shared trauma got him. He’d try to bury it. To move past it. He wanted to be more than what was done to him. People would say he was running. He was bullshit. 
How was he meant to sit with the kind of stuff he and Eddie had been through? How was he meant to fight it? Would Steve always look at Eddie and see his death? Would Eddie always look at Steve and feel like dying? 
“I wished I’d met you later,” Steve spoke to the dark room. Eddie’s locked body loosened, and as it did, he started to shake. In a moment, he’d start to bleed too. 
“You know, normally people say they wished they’d met you sooner.” 
“I mean... I wish we’d met after everything with The Upside Down. That you hadn’t gotten dragged into it. I wish that we’d gotten to know each other the normal way,” Steve explained. Eddie snorted. 
“Can you imagine me doing anything the normal way?” He had a point. 
Steve didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say. The silence was back, looming large as a lunar eclipse. 
“You aren’t... weirded out by what he said? About me liking you?” Eddie’s voice was small. The only time Steve heard Eddie whisper was when he was dying. 
“I think he also said something about me liking you back,” Steve replied, glancing at Eddie’s profile only to find the man was already watching him. His face was contorted in confusion. 
“Then... what’s the problem here, Stevie?” 
Steve had never been good with his words. 
“What if we’ve ruined it?” He tried. At seeing a frown cross Eddie’s face, he knew he hadn’t done a good enough job at explaining. 
“With what’s happened between me and you. You never would’ve looked at me twice if I hadn’t saved you, and what if that’s all we’ve got? Shared trauma.” 
Bullshit. What if all they had was bullshit? Eddie finally understood.
“I don’t like you because you saved me, Steve. I like you because despite all the terrible shit you make me want to laugh.  I love that you’re shit at dancing, but you do it anyway. Also, screw that guy your risotto is better than his. You’re a good cook. Your stupid hair makes me want to slam my head in a car door and before you say anything, that’s a compliment. You care so damn much about everyone.” To Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s hand reached up to touch his cheek. 
“I don’t like you because we’ve been through bad shit together. I like you because you make me feel like one day, we’re going to get out on the other side of it, that things aren’t going to be like this forever,” Eddie finished.
Steve’s heart was a cardinal, beating itself bloody against a windowpane. 
“Can I kiss you?” Steve breathed. For the first time in a long time, he was nervous. 
Eddie’s smile was a lightning strike, bright, beautiful and something they’d shape gods after. 
“I thought you’d never ask.” 
Eddie’s lips were warm. 
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explodingstarlight · 1 year
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weaponizing your newfound "youngest" child status
everyone go read @snailsnaps fic "Alpha Stage"-- de-aged Donnie is giving me LIFE
👉 something of a sequel to this
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ceruleancattail · 2 months
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Eels
Jade Leech x reader
Jade’s fingers were slender.
Clasping a needle within them, he jabbed lightly at the felt. Moving the silver needle swimmingly through the soft fabric, weaving small, neat stitches across it. He moved with effortless ease, rapidly making his way through the piece of cloth within his grip.
You watch his hands, enthralled by the precision of his every move. Calculated, even strokes of that thin needle in his hand, wielded with all the elegance of a rapier. Although it seemed to slow, after a while. You could hear a faint chuckle slipping out of Jade’s lips then.
Setting the cloth down, a finger reaches for your nose. Tapping it ever so lightly, sending a coolness into your skin. As you scrunch your nose up in protest, Jade does his best to stifle a laugh behind his hand. Goodness, you look adorable startled. However, as cute as you were, Jade can’t be the only one working on the plushies, unfortunately.
It was your idea, after nearly doubling over at the prices of the Aquarium souvenirs. Goodness, plush toys were rather expensive nowadays, weren’t they? Now, Jade wouldn’t have minded paying for your share, but you were insistent on making your own.
When Jade questioned you about this sudden… determination, your lips trembled ever so slightly. A faint tint of pink blooming to life on both of your cheeks. How curious… now, you do know he prides himself on being an informant of sorts for Octavinelle, hm?
Keep your little secrets away, love. Before he decides to pry them out of your pretty hands himself. Jade pokes and prods, arms wrapped around your torso. His chin on your shoulder, a low, velvety voice purring into your ear. Maybe he’ll have a nibble or two, if only to hear you yelp.
Why so stubborn, angelfish?
Wouldn’t you like to tell dear old Jade?
Hm?
Flushed fully scarlet, trapped in Jade’s loving, tight embrace, there wasn’t much choice for you. Cheeks burning red, you whisper back to Jade, voice tinged with embarrassment:
“There weren’t any moray eel plushies in that store… I wanted something to remind me of you.”
Now that was a surprise. How sweet of you, dearie, to think about him. Although it does make him a little sad. Why go so far to hug an eel, when he’s already here for you? How cruel of you.
To placate your drama-eel, you proposed making matching plushies. The little ones, connected to a small chain. To be carried around, a matched set. How romantic. Jade readily agreed then.
Although now, you seem a little too focused on him to work on your own plush. Gently guiding your hands towards your very own piece of felt, Jade nudges your palm into the soft material. He holds it there a little longer than necessary, but could you really blame him? You’re warm, delightfully so.
He could feel the beat of your heart press against his. Your pulse beating rapidly, combining with his very own. The rhythm of two hearts, blending into one smoothing melody. Pursing his lips, Jade hums a tune, soft and sweet.
Much like the gaze he gave you, a tender sight. Hopefully some of that warmth could be transferred into the heart of that plushie. So even when you weren’t around, Jade had something to hold. Something to keep his heart placated, until you came back. Until he could have you in his arms again.
“Come on, darling.” Jade pats your hand softly.
“The eel isn’t going to get seen by himself.”
He lifts up his own eel, felt as soft as the beach’s golden sand. Pushing it gently towards you, making it nuzzle into your cheek softly.
“You won’t want to leave plush me all alone now, would you?”
A rustle of cloth, as Jade leaned closer towards you. The ghost of his breath brushing against your cheek, far softer than any felt would ever be. You could feel the plush of his lips graze your skin ever so gently, moving with every word that slipped right pass his lips:
“I’ll be miserable without you to kiss, angelfish.”
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edsbacktattoo · 7 months
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you know stede would play along with ed's innkeeper roleplay
OH MY GOD HE WOULD!!!!!! YOU JUST KNOW HE WOULD
he'd ding the bell without being asked to. he'd announce that he's got a reservation under some fake name, and then he'd ask ed to walk him to his room for him. i guarantee that fruitcake would even ask to see the ring of keys.
all ed wants in this stupid life is for someone to match his energy and be silly with. and then here comes drama-club-kid stede bonnet and blows it out of the fucking water. i hate them (lying)
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wordstome · 7 months
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what is it with me and school/university settings because I can't stop thinking about having a nasty one night stand with König at some frat party and he becomes obsessed with you while you don't even know his name. you're just trying to get through uni without crashing and burning while coping using drugs and sex and there's just this fucking guy who you slept with once and now he's everywhere, caring about you to an infuriating degree
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