#it's very obvious he gives zero shits about that

[sadaveniren]

Louis isn't a perfectionist though. He doesn't learn the lyrics to his own songs, didn't know the date his tour started, was consistently late on stage during ltwt. He's a sweet messy scamp and should just own it. The first thing you learn in boxing is the correct stance and he didn't have it, he was kicking up his legs and doing street fight moves.

See I definitely believe he’s a perfectionist about the things he cares about (much the way Harry is). We’ve seen him try to do top bins (the football move) time and time again just to get it right. He works very hard on getting his lyrics and music sounding exactly how he wants. We know he has a hand in his merch design. His priorities when it comes to his music are different from Harry so it looks like they are differing ideas of perfectionism but that doesn’t mean he’s NOT.

On top of that… we literally just saw in AOTV that he’s spent the majority of his time as a solo artist hating everything he did/performed because it wasn’t good enough or it wasn’t right. That was like… a huge story arc in the documentary; him trying to feel comfortable on stage and get to a point where he felt like what he was doing was good enough for his own standards. Which… if you’ve been following Louis for a long time is also something he talked about having to change (his standards/definition of success). In 2019 he made a whole IG post about how he had to sit and think about doing things FOR HIMSELF and not what everyone else wanted.

So yes. I do think Louis is a perfectionist about stuff he truly cares about. I think he works INSANELY hard at his music and also putting on the best show he can. But his definition of a best show is what HE enjoys doing. He wants it to be a fun show. He wants to feel good during the show about his performance. And I think it’s very obvious he strives to enjoy himself while putting on a great show every single time.

And tbh a lot of artists have no clue the dates or places they are playing. You really don't understand how much an entire tour can just blur together. It even happens to people who follow along with tours, not being able to remember which show they're at. And being late to his own show? That’s also very common. A non-fandom friend went with me to one of Harry’s show at MSG and she was SHOCKED it started on time. Honestly fucking shocked. Because she’d never been to a show where the main act showed up on time.

#that said he still is fucking shit at boxing #it's very obvious he gives zero shits about that #or at least cared about it in that moment of filming #answered #anyway louis is a perfectionist even if it doesn't look like perfectionism to someone

[chelseeebe]

come pick me up.

part one to do you think i have forgotten (about you)

summary: it had always been you and eddie. but one night and a whole lotta unexplored feelings leave you both reeling and you’re not sure if it ever really was you and eddie.

a/n: ermm this is so so long i’m so sorry already LOL i’ve had it in the drafts for so long but i reread it n rlly liked it so i wanna post hehe! side note: there are ZERO pictures of eddie not in that fuckin hellfire shirt D: i can’t have a grown man wearing that now …

loosely based off of the cook/freddie/effy storyline from skins uk if you’ve seen it you’ll know.,,, they’re like in their early twenties n it’s set sometime in the 90s ish tho it’s not rlly mentioned

no use of y/n! smut, 18+. this is more so stevexreader than eddie but they do have a relationship of sorts n it’s a lil’ complicated.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ❤︎ ❤︎ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the sound of a high pitched alarm screaming jolts you awake. still partially in last nights clothes, the grubby feel of makeup on your face. leg slung over eddie’s torso.

you groan, shoving his arm as he’s still very much asleep, ‘shut up,’ grimacing as the noise continues.

he mumbles something, wildly slapping his arm about to turn off the damn thing.

you run a hand over your face, remnants of your black eyeliner on your hand. that horrid taste in your mouth only found after a night of drinking. which seemed to be just about every night at the moment.

‘why’d you set an alarm, you freak?’ rolling over onto your stomach, perched on your elbows, watching as his eyes slowly open, obviously feeling as shit as you did.

‘i have- had class, you freak,’ he grumbles, looking up at you from the pillow, curly hair fanned out around him.

you scoff, ‘like you were gonna go,’ attempting to rub the rest of your mascara off, sure you looked similar to a wild raccoon.

he hums in response, shuffling under the covers to tangle his leg with your yours, ‘you gonna sort this out for me?’ referring to the obvious morning glory tenting the blanket.

‘you gonna ask nicely?’ you respond, snarling at his crudeness.

whatever he was about to say was interrupted with a knock at the door, ‘we’re coming in, you have five seconds to not be naked,’ robin’s voice echoes.

you look up as robin walks into the room, hand over her eyes until steve gives her a small nudge, indicating the coast is clear, ‘oh good-,’ she sniffs, ‘it smells like weed and sex in here, you’re fucking disgusting.’

‘thanks for reminding me,’ eddie leans over, retrieving the half-smoked spliff from last night and lighting the end.

steve’s eyes are firmly on yours, kinda sad and defeated. he had that same look on his face whenever you and eddie were together, which was often.

you’d sort of always had this.. thing with steve. encapsulated by his presence. there was always something unspoken between you and you were never sure if it was because he hated you or not. small glances and touches that seemed to linger just a bit too long.

you’d sorta taken his best friend from him at one point, coming between their friendship suddenly and with no warning.

steve was intrigued by you too. this mystical, unobtainable persona you presented to the world. something he couldn’t crack. just couldn’t quite understand it.

‘we’re getting breakfast, i was going to ask if you wanted to join but i assume that won’t be happening,’ she raises her eyebrows, noticing your severely hungover state.

they liked to party too, just clearly not as much as you and eddie. both of you had no understanding of when to call it a night, egging each other on til the point of no return.

‘i think we’ll give that a miss,’ eddie’s answers for the both of you. steve’s eyes immediately look down, suddenly interesting in the burn marks in eddie’s carpet.

you’d actually met steve first, on the first day of classes in freshmen year. you went over to a sheepish steve, who looked slightly scared, and obviously lost. offering him the directions to his room.

he’d smiled back, introducing himself to you on the way. appreciative of your kindness. you probably wouldn’t have helped if he didn’t look like that, but still, it was nice.

that’s when eddie had bounded over, all hair and denim. loudly taking over your conversation, introducing himself with a smirk, hand already creeping onto your lower back. that’s when steve had nodded towards him and informed you of their already established friendship.

you weren’t really sure when it became you and eddie. well, it wasn’t. not officially. god, you didn’t want official. he was fun to fuck and even better to party with. maybe the fact he dealt had been a factor in solidifying your strange relationship. maybe not.

robin rolls her eyes, ‘right, well you boring fucks can rot in bed all day, suit yourselves,’ ushering steve out of the door, slamming it behind her.

you blink, hating this awful, guilty feeling steve always left in your stomach. you’d tear a guy like him to shreds, maybe it was for the best.

whatever self-wallowing, steve-centric thoughts you had are interrupted when eddie’s arm snakes around your back, pulling you onto him.

‘i still need a little assistance here,’ he grins from beneath you, running his hand down your back, firmly grasping your exposed ass as you clamber on top properly.

you try your damn hardest to push the reflecting image of steve from your mind. though it doesn’t quite work until eddie’s calloused palm softly taps against your cheek, ‘anyone in there?’

you frown, returning the playful slap as you grind mindlessly against him, his fingers digging into the pliant skin of your ass.

‘you can do that again.’

-

eddie hadn’t shut up about his birthday for weeks. you’d all planned to go to the same bar you went to most weekends, except this time everyone had to go and he got to be centre of attention.

he’d been pissing you off all night. obviously far too drunk, jaw clenching from the copious amounts of shit he’d sniffed. hanging from your shoulder, speaking over you and splashing beer down your top as he slurred through his words.

‘i think we’re gonna head home,’ steve speaks up when you exit the bar, eddie already looking for the next place.

‘whaat? you’re fucking boring,’ he pokes a finger into steve’s chest, far too intoxicated, ‘you’re staying out, right?’ he looks over to jonathan, argyle and nancy who also shared an apartment not far from yours.

‘nah man.. it’s late, it’s been fun though,’ jonathan shrugs as nancy finds a taxi to take them home.

‘fuuuck you guys are really ditching me on my birthday? at least you won’t let me down,’ his arm hooks around your shoulder, yanking you into him.

you pull back, which wasn’t particularly hard in his state, ‘get off of me.. can i get a ride with you?’ looking over at steve, his hands cautiously poking out of his pockets.

he nods sheepishly as eddie practically erupts, ‘it’s my fucking birthday, and you fucking losers are going home?’ he’s screeching, throwing his arms around, making a royal scene in the middle of the street.

robin finds a cab willing to take the group of you home, calling you over to the yellow vehicle, ‘eddie let’s just go home, it’s late,’ attempting to coax him into going with you. you’d deal with his shit in the privacy of his bedroom.

he laughs, turning away from you and walking up the dimly lit street, ‘you.. you can get fucked,’ he slurs, disappearing into a nearby bar.

steve stands at the cab door, watching as you frown at eddie’s back. internally deciding whether to give in and follow him or to leave like you’d originally planned.

you let out an exasperated sigh, ‘he can go fuck himself,’ you spit as you slide into the back of the cab. steve follows, shutting the door behind him, flashing you a small cautious look as the cab pulls off.

-

you collapse onto the sofa the second you set foot in the apartment. completely at your wits end with eddie and his the way he spoke to you.

‘i’m going to bed,’ robin announces, slinking into her own room, leaving steve to awkwardly linger in the living room.

you didn’t want to worry about eddie. he was a grown man who could definitely handle his own. besides, why should you when he’d explicitly told you to fuck off?

steve clears his throat before taking the empty seat beside you, ‘he didn’t mean it.. it’s just drunk talking,’ he nods, attempting to reassure you.

it wasn’t as if you were really upset about it all. more so annoyed that you’d let him treat you that way. continually. over and over again.

whatever the fuck was going on between the two of you had started to wear thin. there were only so many times you could put up with his shit before it got tired.

eddie could be a horrible drunk. it wasn’t often but when that version of him came out you’d prefer to be far far from it. he was cruel with his words, venomous as they rolled off his tongue. then you’d get into a screaming match and then either end up hate-fucking or you’d just both never bring it up again.

‘no, he did,’ you sigh, kicking the shoes from your feet with a thud, ‘i don’t care.. really.’

‘right,’ he nods, not totally believing you, ‘y’wanna smoke?’

a small smile creeps onto your face as he reaches for the small black box eddie kept on the table, pulling out a small baggie of weed, something eddie definitely wouldn’t miss. he didn’t even need your reply, beginning to roll up.

-

perhaps you’d smoked a little too much, sputtering on the final toke of your second or third spliff before handing it back to steve. he sits on the other side, an awful lot closer than he’d been originally.

it was quiet, but comfortable. not awkward at all.

‘y’know..’ he speaks up, looking over at you, ‘actually.. nah,’ changing his mind almost immediately.

‘no.. what? what were you gonna say?’ you furrow your brows, vision hazy, the room full of grey smoke.

he sort of chuckles to himself, stubbing the end of the joint out in the glass ashtray before looking at you again, ‘it’s stupid,’ he warns.

‘even better.. tell me,’ you nod, encouraging him to go on.

he pauses for a moment, a tiny smile on his pink lips, ‘i always thought.. well, that you and me were gonna end up together, i thought you liked me for the longest time,’ shaking his head as he looks down.

your heart thuds. a mixture of your high and the unidentifiable emotion coursing through your veins. there was no questions to being with eddie. it was simple, sex and parties. no complicated feelings involved.

but within a second, steve had completely changed everything. a feeling you’d suppressed since your situationship with eddie had started. completely convinced that the odd relationship you had with steve was just because you were banging his best friend.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t know you felt like that..’ you manage to get out quietly, watching as he slowly stands up, he doesn’t look at you once. too ashamed, embarrassed that he’d just admitted everything to you so easily.

‘well, now you know,’ he says quietly before disappearing into his room.

you linger on the couch for a moment. unsure of what to think of anything he’d just said. whether you should knock on his door and tell him you’d felt the same or just go off to your own room and wait for eddie to crawl in.

it wasn’t as if you felt nothing at all for eddie. you did, of course. but you didn’t love him. not the way you maybe should’ve. not the way you felt about steve, his gentle nature and soft caramel tinted eyes.

you stand from the couch, feet taking control as you walk to his door. a small slither of orange light peaking from underneath. raising your fist to knock but stopping, arguing with yourself. this couldn’t be a good idea.

before you can even convince yourself to knock, the door opens. steve stands on the other side, his own chest heaving as your eyes meet.

‘i-,’ he croaks, but you cut him off with your lips, pulling back just as quickly as you’d moved forwards.

you stare at him for a few moments, swallowing all the courage you’d just worked up.

‘..now you know,’ giving him a meek smile before walking back to your room. you lean back against the door, heart beating a million miles an hour.

-

a repetitive banging sound forces you awake in the morning. hissing as the sounds of an extremely dramatic moan get louder. high-pitched and obviously put on.

it takes a moment for you to realise just where the noise is coming from. eddie’s room backs onto yours. the headboard colliding with the wall at an alarming pace.

you stumble out of bed, throwing on an old dirty sweater and groggily making your way into the living room.

steve sits slumped over the table, looking particularly miserable this morning. despite what had happened last night. you wondered if he’d told robin who sat scowling at the door. steam practically coming out of her ears.

her eyes widen as you appear in the doorway, rubbing the residual sleep from your eyes, eyes flitting between your frame and the wooden door.

‘well shit, i was about to cuss you out,’ she remarks, astonished that you were stood in front of her.

steve’s whole face brightens when he realises you’re stood in front of him and not in the room making those god-awful, oscar worthy noises.

‘if that’s not you.. who the fuck is in there?’ robin gasps, now utterly bemused by the entire situation.

you shrug, choosing the seat opposite steve, making brief eye contact and flashing him a small smile. would he bring up last night? or was it never to be spoken about again?

relief is written all over his face. obviously under the impression that you’d made up with eddie at some point in the night. not once checking that you were in your room.

‘jesus christ i’m gonna kill him,’ robin fumes, sipping on a mug of coffee. her eyes are narrowed, attempting to set the room ablaze with her mind.

‘it won’t last long,’ you add, reaching over to steal a slice of steve’s buttered toast. he lets you, obviously. letting out a soft snort at your joke.

‘nothing is that good,’ robin shakes her head.

the noises quieten, a shrill giggle coming from the hallway as a scantily clad blonde appears in the doorway, closely followed by eddie, sporting a pair of boxers that hid absolutely nothing.

‘that way,’ he groans, guiding the smiling woman away towards the bathroom. his eyes momentarily meeting yours, total venom behind his glare.

robin jumps up, splashing coffee over the floor, ‘don’t you dare think about fucking in my bathroom,’ she warns, chasing after the odd couple.

you can hear an altercation as presumably eddie slams the bathroom door on robin, her fists pounding against the wood, hollering about her new bath mat.

steve glances at you, searching your face for any type of reaction. he doesn't find anything, instead you smile softly as robin re-enters the room, cursing at the bastard freak. she grabs her bag, slinging it onto her shoulder before stomping over to the door.

'i'm going out, let me know when he's done with his weird exhibitionist routine,' slamming the door as she exits, the poorly built walls shaking as she does.

there's a faint sound of running water, obviously coming from the bathroom, closely followed by a series of questionable grunts and groans. you choose to try and block it out, though engaging in conversation with steve at this very moment seemed almost too awkward.

'did you tell robin?' you pipe up, playing with your fingernails as you just about meet his gaze.

'uh.. yeah,' he grimaces slightly, 'i-i just thought.. well i thought that was you this morning, i was.. confused,' apologetic for his blunder.

you nod, 'i don't care.. i just wanna prepare for the inevitable grilling i'm gonna get,' chuckling in an attempt to ease the tension. it works as his lips curl into a small, playing with the discarded crusts on his plate.

the god-awful noises from the bathroom worsen and your eyes are pulled from steve, looking towards the cause. perhaps this was eddie's way of making you jealous. revenge for choosing to go home and not put up with his drunken assholery.

-

you’re sat tracing patterns into the velvet fabric of the sofa, practically shaking as you wait for steve to get back from campus.

he was your friend for fuck sake. why was this so nerve wracking? ask him to hang out, if he says no then so be it. you’ll deal with the awkwardness of your shared kiss alongside eddie’s misguided anger.

he’s later than you’d expected. becoming far too engrossed in the random soap opera on the tv when he does eventually get back. almost forgetting about what you’d got yourself so worked up over.

‘hey,’ waving his fingers as he comes in.

christ, he almost seemed more nervous than you were.

‘hey,’ not wanting to jump down his throat the second he walked in the door, turning the tv off and running your palms down the sofa.

‘spoken to eddie?’ he asks curiously, slinging his bag from his shoulder and slumping down next to you on the couch.

‘nah.. he went out this morning and hasn’t been back,’ you shrug, wishing that he wouldn’t have just bought that prick up.

he nods, looking down at his jeans, finding a loose thread to play with.

‘would yo-,’

‘d’ya wanna-,’

you both start at the same time, stopping to let him continue except he’d done the same thing. sitting in the silence for a brief moment.

you chuckle nervously, ‘sorry, what were you saying?’

‘i was just gonna ask if you wanted to.. maybe do something tonight? if- if you’re not busy,’ shrugging it off, trying his hardest to play it cool.

‘oh,’ laughing softly, the pair of you were like nervy teenagers, comical, ‘i was gonna ask you the same thing.. yeah i’d love to.’

steve grins, transported back to freshman year of high school, trying to find the gall to ask tammy thompson to the fucking movies. it all seemed so childish, innocent, the way you melted around each other.

‘okay.. i’ll get changed, give me five,’ he nods, leaping from the sofa and speeding off to his room.

you bite down onto your bottom lip, trying to contain your smile. kicking yourself for the adolescent excitement it gave you.

-

the bar was packed for a wednesday night, steve shouldering his way through the crowd with you following closely behind. not brave enough to cling onto his hand, wrapping your fingers around his forearm instead.

‘jesus christ,’ he exclaims when he finds a spot just about big enough for you both to stand. you were close. closer than you’d ever been. at least in public.

you hold onto the glass bottle he’d passed you from the bar, ‘d’ya wanna go somewhere else?’

‘what?’ he shouts, the music too loud to hear you properly.

you lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear, the feeling makes your heart pound, ‘you wanna go somewhere else?’

placing his hand on your arm so he could shout back, the mixture of his cologne and beer filling your nose. it was intoxicating, making your head giddy.

‘i’m good if you are,’ wisps of his hair sweeping against your cheek.

you nod, beaming up at him as you take a swig of the harsh beer. the crowd seemingly disappearing from around you as his eyes focus on you, his own smile overcoming his face.

-

okay, perhaps you’d had a little too much to drink. but a little dutch confidence never hurt anyone.

you’re definitely not complaining when you grab his hand on the way out of the bar, quickly intertwining your fingers as he weaves his way to the door. still as packed as when you’d got there.

you giggle as he trips over the step coming into the bar, sending you flying into his back as he regains his balance.

his hand is quick to steady you, resting on your waist. the street light illuminating the gleam of his eyes, slightly glossy from the multiple beers he’d sunk inside.

a drunk student roars past you, snapping you out of the moment, steve’s hand still lingering on your waist. something that would’ve never happened if he were sober.

‘shall we go home?’ you ask, not breaking from his gaze.

he nods, moving his hand to offer it out for you to grab. leading you over to an empty cab, leaning through the front window to talk to the driver.

the drive home is heavy with tension. sitting in silence as steve makes polite conversation with the driver, fingers still wrapped around yours. heart thumping as you near your street.

the apartment dark and silent when you get in, the only light coming from the old fairy lights robin had hung around the room. there’s no hesitation, your hands grabbing his cheeks, smashing your lips to his the second the front door closes.

it takes a moment for him to realise what was happening, hands quickly finding solace on the small of your back when it clicks properly. it’s greedy and desperate, tongue sliding into his mouth, wanting to touch every inch of him.

hands sliding down his chest, grabbing at the fabric, his leg slotting between yours, guiding you backwards. straight into the coffee table with a bang.

you spring apart, eyeing eddie’s room cautiously, saying a silent prayer and hoping he didn’t come out.

steve’s eager to resume, eyes hungry as they flit between eddie’s door and your face.

you pull back completely, taking your lip between your teeth and hooking your finger around his pinky, leading the way to his bedroom. it was the furthest away from eddie’s and made the most sense.

he shuts the door gently, flicking the small bedside lamp on, illuminating the obvious tent in his jeans. your mouth falling open at the sight of it, rubbing your thighs together to try and satiate the growing throbbing.

you’re quick to resume the kiss, moving on him swiftly, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. he collapses backwards onto the bed, your body falling on top of his chest, hands caressing his cheeks.

the next moment you find yourself underneath steve, pressed into the mattress as he holds himself above you. eager hands finding the short hem of your skirt and sliding underneath on the soft skin of your thighs. you had never seen him move with such confidence before, normally a little shy in the way he carried himself.

his finger hooks into the waistband of your lacy panties, tugging them down to your thighs. his growing erection digging into your core with every movement. moaning into his mouth when his finger begins circling your sensitive clit. this had definitely killed any and all assumptions that he was a virgin.

it’s as if he had been waiting for this very moment for his entire life, sliding his fingers between your folds and into your already soaking hole, your mouth falling from his as your head rolls back onto the pillow.

‘oh my god,’ a breathy moan escaping from your lips as his fingers pump in and out, his other hand causing a dip in the pillow next to your head.

his fingers slip out of you and begin to unbuckle his belt, barely getting them down and around his legs before his cock springs up. bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, mouth hung open as your peer down between your bodies.

your shirt is pulled off over your head so quickly you weren’t sure if you had blinked, landing on the floor alongside his with a soft thunk.

you draw your eyes back up to meet his once more, ‘you’re sure?’ he reaffirms, pupils dilated, wetting his lips with his pink tongue.

‘so sure,’ nodding encouragingly underneath him, readjusting your legs to loosely wrap around his torso. you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.

he returns the nod, positioning himself at your sopping entrance and without breaking eye contact he slides in with a sharp intake of breath. you can’t contain the whimper that collects in your throat, the stretch of his cock taking you by surprise. the sting felt good, like he was always supposed to be there between your legs.

he’s still, waiting for your encouragement to move. you give it in the form of a squeeze on the back of his neck, clinging on to the skin as his hips move slowly. low, hungry grunts roll from his lips, the bed frame creaking in time with his thrusts.

‘fuck,’ you breathe out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth acutely aware that eddie was only a few doors away and could definitely hear the happenings in the room. even if you could manage to stifle yourself, the undeniable sounds of skin against skin would expose you.

‘is that- is that good?’ steve mumbles, moving slow but hitting deep, nudging against your soft spot, already hurtling you towards your orgasm.

‘jesus christ.. yes, yes,’ beginning to buck your hips back against him, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach. finger nails leaving crescent moon shapes in his skin as tears prick in your eyes.

steve groans as his heavy balls slap against the back of your thighs, pushing himself fully inside, ‘i’m not.. hmph.. not gonna last long,’ arm beginning to buckle with the weight of him.

you clench around him as your high topples over at his words, burying your face into the pillow next to you. unable to withhold the high pitched wail from leaving your mouth, barely managing to muffle the sound.

his rhythm falters, hips slamming into yours for the last few desperate pumps before he pulls himself out. thick ropes of cum spurting out and onto his hand. and the bed. and your thigh. crying out as his chest heaves above you.

‘holy shit,’ his arm gives way and he ends up next to you on the mattress, panting for air as he reaches for a dirty shirt on the floor, using the first thing he could find to clean off his hand.

you turn your head to face him, a lazy smile on your face as he offers the shirt out to you, mouthing a small sorry.

he throws it to the other side of the room, running a hand over his damp face, ‘i uh.. i last way longer normally,’ bashful and doubting his performance. it was only because it was you.

‘steve,’ you smile, grabbing his blanket to pull over your body, ‘don’t do that,’ seeing the shy boy from once before, you much preferred the steve from earlier.. confident and sure of himself.

‘yeah.. sorry,’ his lips curling into a soft smile, turning his body towards yours, arm snaking out to pull you closer, clammy palm resting on the small of your back.

you giggle quietly in response, settling in to your new position, sharing the blanket with him.

your eyes don’t leave each other’s as he begins to babble about something from the bar, clinging onto your skin as if you were somehow going to slip away.

-

you hadn’t even realised that you’d fallen asleep in steve’s room.

so when eddie comes in unannounced in the early morning, you thank your lucky stars that you’re facing the wall with steve’s body hiding yours. shoving your face into the pillow to hide yourself, hair sprawled around you, helping your case.

‘yo.. bro,’ he whispers, stepping into the room and over a pile of clothes, ‘good night?’ he cocks his eyebrow at steve as he turns around, glaring at the interruption.

‘uh.. yeah yeah,’ steve panics, realising what eddie had walked into and the chaos that’d ensue if he figured it out, his arm tightens around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

‘sounded like it,’ eddie chuckles, shaking his boot to rid it of the discarded shirt on the floor, ‘look, have you got ten bucks? i can give it back tomorrow,’ he bargains, smiling at steve.

‘yeah.. yeah, my wallet’s on the desk,’ steve nods towards the desk, adjusting himself to make sure he was covering you when eddie stomps over to the desk.

ten dollars was a worthy sacrifice to not have to deal with eddie’s temper tantrum in the morning. it wasn’t like he’d never find out. just not now.

‘thanks bro.. i’ll get it back to you tomorrow, hey,’ eddie rubs his stubbly face, ‘d’you know if dickhead’s in? i knocked but, uh.. no answer,’ quite obviously referring to you.

you have to resist the urge to sit up and cuss him out.

‘uhh.. no, no idea sorry,’ steve shakes his head apologetically, lying through his teeth.

‘alright well, have fun,’ wiggling his eyebrows as he exits, closing the door softly.

you exhale when the door clicks shut, though you stay in the same position, not entirely convinced he’s not stood outside the door listening.

‘don’t speak,’ you mouth to steve, who looks wearily at you until the front door closes and you fully turn to face him.

‘jesus christ,’ you breathe, ‘he doesn’t knock?’

‘usually he does.. i bet he wanted to see who was in here,’ his arm twitches, unsure of whether to keep clinging on to your waist or to remove it.

‘i mean,’ you shrug, ‘he’ll found out eventually, right?’ it was inevitable, especially as you were living together.

‘i s’pose.. you don’t care?’ taken aback by your nonchalance towards the situation.

‘not really.. i just don’t think he needs to know, not yet,’ you croak, he had literally just banged another chick practically right in front of you. any guilt you may have felt about the situation had disappeared.

‘yeah,’ he gives you a tired smile, nuzzling his head into the pillow, all soft and sweet.

‘i dunno about you but i’m going back to sleep, until at least lunch,’ your hand running along the curve of his bicep, mere inches away from each other.

he hums in response, his lingering arm pulling your waist closer, eyes drooping as sleep takes over.

-

you’re awoken again by the slam of the front door, robin leaving for work. letting steve know that everyone in the apartment could hear your late night activities.

steve grumbles, complaining about her heavy-handedness. you leer over at the alarm clock, wanting to get out of steve’s room before eddie gets back from work, making sure there were no possible chances of awkward questions this afternoon.

‘shit,’ you hiss, climbing over his still half-asleep body and grabbing whatever t-shirt you could find, pulling it on over your head, ‘eddie’s back in like five.. i’m gonna get out of here now, saves the aggro..,’ slipping into your discarded underwear.

‘right.. good idea,��� he mumbles, one arm folded underneath his pillow as he comes to fully.

you sprint out of there and into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of cereal when eddie strolls through the door, whistling some tune to himself. he glances at you before taking a seat at the cluttered dining table.

you don’t say a word, discarding your plan to sit at the table and instead tucking in to your cereal on the counter, pretending to read some flyer.

‘where were you last night?’ he asks, leaning back on the chair to get a full view of you, ‘i knocked on your door but..’ narrowing his eyes.

‘i was probably fuckin’ asleep,’ shoving another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, making brief eye contact with the man.

he squints, trying to figure out why that shirt was so fucking familiar. was it his? were you wearing his shirt in some weird goading way?

steve emerges from his room, shirtless and running a hand from his messy hair. eddie’s eyes flit between the shirt and steve. cogs slowly turning in his brain.

no. no the shirt wasn’t his.

it was the fucking shirt he’d kicked off of his foot when he’d stormed into steve’s room this morning. same boring design printed on the front.

on you.

from steve’s floor.

the night after steve had, very loudly, had a female friend over.

you’re oblivious, focussing on your bowl of soggy cornflakes as steve clatters around behind you. making his own bowl. neither of you looking at each other, making everything ten times more obvious.

‘you’re fuckin’ joking,’ he loudly proclaims, standing from the table, nearly sending the chair flying backwards.

your head shoots up, confused by what he had seemingly angered himself over now, ‘what?’ eyebrows knitted together as he storms over, mouth hung open in disbelief.

‘you fucked him?’ jabbing his finger at steve, ‘my best friend?’ arms flying around in anger.

you look to steve for some help, eddie positively fuming, his jaw clenched at your lack of an answer. in fact, your reaction, or lack thereof, had only solidified everything.

‘no,’ you eventually croak, ‘i- we-, that wasn’t me,’ stuttering for some excuse, though you know he didn’t buy a word of it.

eddie’s face twists up in a mix of anger and hurt, eyes glossing over as his lips tremble, ‘eddie-,’ steve begins, cut off as eddie storms out of the tiny kitchen, grabbing his wallet from the table and pausing when he opens the front door.

‘you deserve each other,’ he snarls before disappearing, shaking the walls with his violent slam of the door.

you stare at steve in silent disbelief, dropping the spoon into your discarded bowl. you’d predicted his reaction to go something along the lines of that, just not expecting it so soon. hoping to have prepared a solid speech in the meantime.

‘shit.’

‘it’s okay.. h-he was gonna find out eventually.. he’ll calm down,’ steve tries to soothe you, well aware that eddie held onto his anger, let it simmered until it all bubbled over and some poor soul got the brunt of months of rage.

you want to feel bad, feel guilty but when steve’s hand sits on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, it vanishes. his chestnut eyes providing a sense of comfort you’d never felt before.

-

you were used to eddie being out. missing in action for days on end. but by the fourth day of him not coming back to the apartment, the pit in your stomach starts to worsen.

the guilt had caught up to you, as if you were the one who had shoved him out of the door. you had, in a metaphorical sense.

the first few days were, nice. though you felt worse for even feeling that. but, you’d been hanging out with steve more. it was different to before, getting to know his personal quirks, the things that made him tick. something you would’ve brushed off before.

you were friends, sure. you hadn’t really had the opportunity to get to know him like this before. it would’ve felt like some sort of betrayal to eddie. even though in some ways the way it had come about now was much worse.

on the fifth day, you’re sat on the couch with steve. picking the hangnail from your finger, wincing as it started to bleed.

‘d’you think he might’ve gone home?’ you ask, looking up at steve who was spaced out next to you.

they were from the same small town, had started out sharing classes in high school and had since been friends. admittedly growing apart when you’d come into the picture. you’d heard stories from the others about how close they used to be, never apart, according to jonathan.

‘i dunno.. he hates hawkins,’ steve shrugs, seeing the worry spread across your face, ‘but i could call his uncle? see if he’s there?’

you nod, thumb in your mouth trying to pull off more of the sore skin. he gets up to grab his phone, already dialling the number when he comes back into the room.

‘hey! wayne.. it’s steve- yeah yeah, i’m good man.. i was just wondering if eddie was there? oh no, uh- well.. we haven’t heard from him in a few days, y’know what he’s like… sure, thanks man,’ clicking the button and ending the call.

he looks over at you, a pitying look on his face as he shakes his head no.

‘i’m sure he’s alright.. he’s dramatic, you know that,’ he collapses onto the couch, this time closer than before, nudging your elbow with a weak smile.

you were well versed with eddie’s dramatic personality. having dealt with his temper tantrums and storm outs for years now. though, it had never seemed this bad before.

realistically, you knew he was probably crashing on a friend’s sofa. overstaying his welcome and partying too much. he was likely coming down from some insane party as you sat thinking about him.

‘i just.. feel bad,’ you whisper, leaning into steve’s side. his arm reaches around to your shoulder, rubbing softly against your arm.

‘i know..i do too,’ he admits, you and eddie hadn’t been a romantic thing. not even really a thing, if you were being honest. it was sex and partying, getting completely trashed and using each other in an attempt to fill the void inside of you both.

but steve and eddie had been friends for years now. they’d argued over the stupidest shit but never something like a girl. steve had had to genuinely weigh up whether his friendship with eddie was worth losing.

if eddie couldn’t get over it, would steve be able to repress his feelings for you? or would he be fine with losing eddie if it meant that you were together?

when robin gets back from work, she narrows her eyes at the two of you curled up against each other, ‘is this gonna be a regular thing?’

‘would you have a problem with it if it was?’ you ask, watching as she dumps her back and slumps on the empty seat.

‘oh no, i’m just thinking about how much peace and quiet i’ll get if you and eddie aren’t screaming at each other every day,’ kicking her doc martens from her feet and leaning into the cushions.

‘if he comes back,’ you remind her.

she hadn’t really seemed too fazed when he’d stormed out. thankful for no more early morning wake up calls from his wooden bed frame. but you can tell that even she was beginning to feel at least a tiny bit worried.

‘he still not called?’

you shake your head, ‘no one’s seen him, he’s not home.. i guess we’ve just gotta wait til he’s calmed down,’ shrugging, more so trying to convince yourself rather than her.

no matter what, eddie had a special place in your heart. even if it wasn’t love in the romantic sense, there was too much there to disregard that. he was your best friend at one point, how could you?

it’s another five days of fretting and concern before you hear a word from him. your phone rings in the middle of the night and you sit up, feeling along the nightstand for the buzzing plastic. an unrecognised number.

‘hello?’ you speak into the receiver.

steve stirs, waking up at the sound of your voice. admittedly, you’d been sleeping in his bed. sharing kisses and late-night chats about just about everything. it all felt very quick, but just right. like now that’d you’d both realised that you could have this, that anything other than this felt wrong.

‘hi,’ eddie’s voice rings out, recognisable even through the phone.

‘eddie? you’re okay? where are you?’ you babble, steve sits up at the mention of his name.

‘i’m uh- with my dad, i just, listen.. i need you to bring me some shit.. we’re going away and i’ve got nothing with me,’ his voice crackles and you can hear him shift around in the payphone box.

‘what? you’re going where? where are you?’ baffled, unsure if you were still asleep and not understanding him.

‘away, i’m staying in porter.. look, can you do it?’

‘eddie that’s-,’ but you stop yourself, ‘yeah, sure.. when?’

‘tomorrow, i just need some clothes, my watch and my savings.. they’re under my mattress.. tiny box, you’ll see it,’ he rushes, running out of minutes.

‘o-okay, where shall i meet you? i don’t know it well,’ you garble, nodding at steve when he mouths a confused porters?

‘little bar called sam’s.. i’ll be in there, i’ve gotta go, this thing’s running out,’ he sighs, muttering a small, ‘thank you,’ before the line goes dead.

‘he’s at the fucking beach.. wants me to drop some shit for him.. he said he’s with his dad? i-i thought his dad left..?’

‘he did,’ steve looks puzzled, taking the phone from your clutch and looking at the withheld number, trying to figure out if he could call it back, ‘he left years ago..’

-

eddie’s smile falters when he notices that you’d bought steve and robin along. steve dropping your hand the second his eyes meet eddie’s.

‘what the fuck are you doing here?’ the chair scraping the wooden floor as he stands abruptly.

the man you can only assume is his dad looks over, gripping onto the beer bottle, eyes flitting between his son and your trio.

‘eddie.. i asked them to, we wanted to know if you were okay,’ your voice shakes, frowning when he scowls at you. you’ve pissed him off, again.

‘i called you because i trusted you, not him,’ he spits, walking over to where you were stood by the door, ‘where’s my shit?’

‘it’s in the car,’ quickly coming up with a lie, trying to keep him talking for as long as possible, ‘i need to talk to you.. before you.. leave,’ you pout, trying to get him away from his dad.

‘about?’ he hits back harshly, still upset that you’d even dared to bring steve along.

‘about.. everything,’ you exhale shakily, ‘give me five minutes, please.’

he looks back at his dad who checks his watch before shrugging. he couldn’t give a less of a shit as long he got this promised money.

‘fine,’ he says through gritted teeth, storming past a gormless steve and robin and exiting the restaurant.

you glance at steve before following him out, not sure how much longer you could convince him you’d bought everything he’d asked for.

he’s already lighting up a cigarette when you reach the street, perched against the windowsill in days-old clothes. he looked a mess. even worse than his usual gritty self. eye-bags and a sunken face to match.

you breathe out, how do you even start a conversation like this? sorry i fucked your best friend but i actually really like him was probably not the best way to go about it.

‘i’m sorry,’ seemed like the best place to start, ‘it wasn’t fair to you.. what i- we did.. i can’t tell you how shit it makes me feel.. to know that i hurt you.’

he blows the smoke out of his mouth, expressionless, ‘okay.’

is that it? after his great big performance that was all he could say?

‘what?’

‘i said, okay.. what d’you expect me to do? start crying and begging you to love me?’ scoffing as he takes a long draw of the cigarette. his eyes cold, merciless as he glares at you.

‘you ran away.. made everyone worried sick about you.. and all you can say is okay?’

he shrugs, ‘i’m over it.. you’re welcome to each other,’ stubbing the cigarette out on the brick wall, stepping closer to you.

your mouth opens and shuts, flabbergasted by his stinking attitude, ‘shout at me, scream.. fuck- hit me if you want to.. stop pretending like you don’t care.. because i know you eddie munson and i know you do.’

his eyes narrow, intimidating as he towers above, ‘i don’t give a shit, you’re only upset because you want me to.. that’s too bad,’ his adam’s apple bobs, a tell-tale sign that he was lying.

your eyes search his for anything. a glimmer of weakness.

but his eyes are stern, emotionless as his brows thread together.

the door to the bar creaks open and his dad stomps out, muttering to himself, ‘c’mon son, let’s get the fuck out of here,’ replacing eddie’s spot on the windowless ledge and lighting his own cigarette.

he doesn’t break eye contact, ‘i’m gonna take a leak and then i want my shit,’ jaw tense as he barges through the door.

you squeeze your eyes shut, biting onto your bottom lip before cricking your neck. that hadn’t gone exactly to plan. now what the fuck were you gonna do when he realised you hadn’t brought the one thing he’d asked for.

‘i know what women like you do,’ his dad speaks up, taking a long drag on the cigarette, ‘you don’t get to fuck up his life and then happily move on.’

eyes springing open when you realise he’s talking to you, ‘what the fuck did you just say?’

he laughs, a deep belly-laugh, ‘you heard.’

you’d love to smash the smug look from his dirty face. knock his head into the brick wall and drag eddie kicking and screaming back to steve’s cat whether he liked it or not.

‘women like me? the only person who cares enough to drive all the way out to this shithole to save your son? is that what you meant?’ stepping up towards him, as if you were even capable of doing anything.

‘you came to rub it in.. flaunting in with pretty boy there,’ his lips snarl, ‘pathetic really, shouldn’t have bothered.’

eddie comes back out, robin and steve trailing behind, trying to converse with him but being completely blanked, ‘where’s my shit then?’

‘uh.. steve’s car,’ beckoning to where you’d parked somewhere in the distance.

steve flashes you a worried look knowing damn well there was nothing eddie could want in his car. luckily eddie doesn’t pick up on it and instead starts walking in the direction you’d motioned, expecting you all to follow.

‘why’re you in such a hurry?’ you call out from behind, trying desperately to bide time. he was certain to flip his shit the second you reached the car and he figured you’d lied to him.

‘because i want to get the fuck out of here,’ he snaps back, charging on ahead.

you walk in silence to steve’s car, nervously glancing over at steve as eddie and his disgusting pig of a father walk on ahead. steve reaches over and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze though it doesn’t really do much.

eddie’s spots the car first, striding over and peering into the windows, ‘where’s my shit then?’ turning to glare at you with a disgusted look on his face.

your mouth opens and closes, no viable excuse coming to mind, ‘eddie.. i didn’t bring anything-,’ swallowing as you gain some slight confidence, ‘i’m not letting you go with him.’

his dad completely flips, turning to his son, ‘you’re fucking useless, you know that? how the fuck d’you manage to mess this one up?’ practically foaming at the mouth.

‘dad i told her! this isn’t my fault.. we can still go.. i’ll find the cash somewhere,’ his eyes pleading with the estranged man, he had shrunk back into a scared little boy right before your eyes.

his father shoves him away, snarling at his son, ‘you think i actually want to go anywhere with you? my colossal fuck up of a son? you’re dreaming,’ positively fuming.

‘but.. dad,’ he’s almost begging now, regressing back to the night he watched his father walk out on his mom, feeling the heartache all over again.

steve steps up, getting closer to the pair, ‘you should go,’ placing his hand on the man’s arm.

he jerks his arm from steve’s grip, scoffing at you all, ‘don’t bother trying to find me again.. i don’t wanna know,’ poking his sausage finger into eddie’s chest before pulling himself away and trundling off back to the bar you’d met in.

your eyes immediately turn to eddie who was watching the man leave for the second time, tears pricking in his eyes. your chest pangs with hurt, you’d never meant for it to happen like this.

eddie speeds off in the opposite direction and you have to pull on steve’s arm to stop him from going after the boy, ‘he’ll come.. just.. give him a few minutes,’ nodding reassuringly.

steve sighs before turning to face you, ‘okay, you should go anyway.’

‘yeah.’

deciding that it had probably been enough time, you follow eddie’s path and eventually find him perched on a crumbling stoke wall, aggressively wiping his cheeks when he spots you walking over.

you sit in the empty spot next to him, staring down at the grey concrete. not wanting to break the silence and potentially piss him off more.

‘fuck,’ eddie finally breathes, sniffing and wiping his nose on his filthy sleeve. he clearly hadn’t showered in days and you wonder what on earth they could’ve possibly been doing.

‘i’m sorry,’ you croak. you weren’t just sorry for not allowing him to run off with that wretched man but for the fact that you and steve had quite obviously betrayed him.

you hear him swallow and then a rustling from his pocket. looking up to find him with a cigarette hanging onto his lip. he offers the box out to you, as he usually would.

delicately taking one from the pack and placing it in your mouth, waiting patiently for the lighter.

you sit smoking your cigarettes in the calming silence for a few minutes. gazing out at the horizon, the sky awash with all sorts of moody greys. fitting.

‘are you coming home?’ you ask quietly, standing from the wall with your hands shoved in your pockets.

eddie exhales, his eyes closing briefly before he stands, ‘yeah.. yeah let’s go,’ admitting defeat as he lets go of his dad forever, ready to put an end to his reckless escapade.

robin and steve are leaning against his car when you walk back. there had been a silent agreement to not mention it. just get in the car and go.

you sat in the back with eddie, watching as he stares out of the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. you move over into the middle seat, resting your head against his shoulder.

things would be alright.

-

things had been actually sorta alright. eddie had seemingly come to terms with you and steve becoming a thing. at least, if he hadn’t, he’d been keeping it to himself.

you tried to keep things respectable of course, jumping apart when he’d enter the room or going off to your own room and creeping into steve’s when eddie had gone to bed. but he wasn’t stupid. and you knew he wasn’t stupid. it just seemed better than rubbing it in his face.

things were completely different with steve and you’d felt a sense of pressure that hadn’t been present with eddie. steve was soft and kind but you couldn’t be so laidback about everything with him.

when you’d disappear at parties to split a bag with someone, he’d want to know. or when you were upset and stressed out, he’d want to know why, how he could help.

which was fair enough, obviously. it was just different. before, eddie would offer some generic advice and a spliff and be done with it. now, you were expected to actually address your issues head-on, not just bury them with sex and drink.

finals week had been harsh on all of you. the apartment in disarray as you were all working overtime to save your grade and not get kicked out of college.

you’d, perhaps a bit unfairly, taken your stress out on steve. arguing with him about menial shit that you didn’t really care about, just finding any excuse to shout and push him away.

he’d sit there and take it, offering sensible solutions and trying to resolve whatever bullshit you’d made up that day. a stark difference to eddie who would’ve screamed straight back at you.

come friday night, you’d all finished exams, sitting around the table when eddie swanned in, flapping some flyer for a party, going on about how you should all go.

‘we’re finished, free,’ he argued, pleading his case to the three of you.

robin flat-out refused, said she needed to sleep for a solid week and then she’d be ready to party. steve umm’d and ahh’d, settling on staying in but he was down to go out tomorrow.

‘i’ll go,’ you speak up, eyeing eddie from across the table, you hadn’t hung out alone yet. this would be a new feat.

‘alright,’ he shrugs, looking at steve for his permission or straight up denial of you two going alone.

steve just nods, ‘alright, call me if you need anything,’ glancing at you with an assured smile.

he wasn’t worried. not really. you’d shown him plenty of times that you loved him even despite your incessant attempts to push him away. even in the bad arguments, he’d kept his cool and waited for you to come to him, keeping everything on your terms.

you’re nervous though. you and eddie partying together had never been a good idea, egging each other on, getting utterly trashed just because he’d dare you to.

not tonight. you swore to yourself before leaving. pressing a tender kiss on steve’s lips, leaving traces of your sticky lipgloss behind.

-

eddie’s pov

it’s a little after midnight when steve gets a phone call from eddie, asking him to come and pick you up. still waking up as he walks across campus, passing countless drunk students as he finds the thumping party.

you’re incoherent on the couch, steve’s eyebrows raising expectedly as he walks into the room. eddie stood to the side watching as your arms instinctively wrap around steve’s neck. even in your drunken stupor you went straight to steve.

it fucking stings.

he looks on worriedly as steve hoists you from the couch, ‘hey man.. uh, she said some pretty weird things tonight, i dunno.. i don’t think she’s okay,’ recalling your earlier slurred words.

you hadn’t meant to, but you’d spilled everything to eddie. a tequila fuelled rant about how steve was so perfect and how bad you felt that you just weren’t. how you didn’t know how to stop pushing him away, even when you didn’t want to.

steve nods, it wasn’t like he didn’t already know you were on this self-destructive warpath. he just wasn’t sure how to tell you that you didn’t need to do this without sounding like a dick.

your arms lazily flop around his neck, laying your head against his chest as he carried you bridal style through the party and right across campus back to your apartment. eddie trailing behind in silence.

‘thanks.. for calling me,’ steve smiles as he nudges his bedroom door open just as eddie was about to disappear into his own room.

‘course,’ he nods, melancholy as he watches your fingers curl around steve’s jacket, pulling him down onto the bed with you, babbling a chorus of steve’s and love you’s as his door closes.

cursing himself for never being that soft with you. never providing that level of safety.

he lies awake for hours, staring at the ceiling. at some point he hears you tumble out of steve’s room, rushing to the bathroom and subsequently throwing up into the toilet. debating whether to hop out of his own bed and help.

but then the padding of steve’s feet make their way through the hallway, his soft voice helping you brush your teeth and get cleaned up. eddie’s assistance was unnecessary. damn, he wouldn’t have a clue what to even do.

on the occasions that you’d thrown up in the morning, eddie would’ve led in bed and laughed. called you a pussy and waited for you to crawl back to bed in a mood. he wasn’t gentle like steve. that shit came as a second nature to him but to eddie? not a touch of it.

he even hears the soft kiss he gives you on the way back to his room, your appreciative little murmur and the click of his door shutting again. 

and he wants to kick himself. scream and cry and throw a tantrum because in an ideal world, that would’ve been him.

but he can’t blame you, no matter how much he tried. it’s his fault he’s such a colossal fuck up. not yours. not steve’s. his.

he eventually gives up and moves to the couch, not getting much luck at sleeping in his bed. the suns rising when he hears snippets of your hushed conversation.

it didn’t sound angry. or even upset. just barely audible speaking’s about your feelings.

‘i know.. i don’t mean to,’ he can hear, a twinge of sadness in your tone.

‘you don’t need to.. not with me,’ steve mumbles and the blankets rustle, snapping him out of his trance.

he can hear small i love you’s and the sound of lips smacking. but then your muffled breathy moans start and the bile rises in his throat. undeniably he knew what was going on in there, everything being confirmed by the rhythmic creaking of the mattress.

and he knows what you look like. he can see it. feel it. hell, he lived for it at one point

pushes himself from the sofa and straight out of the door. not wanting to hear a second more.

-

you don’t feel as bad as expected in the morning, rough but not as bad as you should be feeling.

robin’s now ready to celebrate, steve agreeing and you almost want to hurl at the mention of going out. eddie sits in silence at the end of the table, he’d been pretty strange this morning and you’d wondered if you said something to upset him last night.

you could vaguely recall the self-pitying spiel you’d forced him to listen to. physically cringing at the fact you’d started crying and wailing about steve to him.

robin suggests having some people over, just a small thing with close friends. maybe if everyone was up for it you could all go out afterwards. that you could agree to.

she rounds the troops, calling the friend you all shared. who all agreed to get there at eight. something small and casual she repeats down the phone.

there’s a few tag-alongs, people you’d met briefly at parties or friends of friends who had been dragged along. so it wasn’t the small gathering you’d pictured with just the gang. but it was okay.

the speaker being turned to max and the living room full of people. everyone in high spirits because finals had finished and were relatively confident that they’d at least scraped a pass.

you edge through the crowd, waking over to steve who was splayed out on the couch, spliff hanging from his fingers. he grins when he sees you, opening his arms.

‘hey pretty girl,’ beckoning for you to climb onto his lap, arms snug around your waist as he passes the spliff to you, still giggling at his pet name.

eddie glowers from behind the couch, huffing before pushing himself up and storming into the kitchen. he hadn’t realised how much he’d already drank, liquor coursing through his veins.

‘watch it,’ someone exclaims when eddie barges into their arm, subsequently spilling his beer onto the boys shirt.

eddie sees red. turning to the boy and snarling as he shoves his chest, sending him to the floor.

‘what the fuck did you say?’ grabbing the boy by the collar before smashing his fist into the side of the poor boys face.

steve hears the commotion, leering over the sofa to see what the fuck was even going on. he shoves you off of his lap, running to go and grab eddie from on top of this boy.

you finally see what everyone had crowded around, watching as eddie’s fist pummels into his now bloody face. only easing when steve grabs onto his arms, gasping for breath as he’s thrown back into reality. realisation setting in about what he’d just down.

people rush to the unconscious boy, somebody screaming to call an ambulance. the music cuts out harshly, silence echoing around the room as you stare at eddie, wide-eyed. terrified.

you’d never seen him like this. so brutal, covered in someone else’s blood. his chest falls and rises, staring back at you with an equally as horrified expression. steve is saying something to him but it’s not registering. a ringing in his ears as the world crashed and burned around him.

the police turn up alongside the ambulance crew. taking statements from whoever hadn’t left and eventually cuffing eddie. muttering about crazy fucking kids and quite forcefully pulling him from the apartment.

his eyes lingering on yours as he’s guided out. steve’s arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. you’re still in disbelief, tears welling in your eyes as you remember how unforgiving and downright cruel he’d been.

‘you wanna go to bed?’ steve asks, chest vibrating with his low voice. fingers combing through your hair, in your own corner of the living room as robin and nancy attempt to clean the floor.

jonathan and argyle are picking up tiny shards of glass, not an ounce of conversation between them. all still reeling from eddie’s outburst. you were sure he was going to jail, there wasn’t any way he could possibly wriggle out of this one.

‘we should-,’ the words getting caught in your throat, ‘we need to help clean,’ pulling back to look at the state of the room, discarded cups and splatters of alcohol on the walls.

‘we’re nearly done.. you should go to bed,’ robin nods, wringing the cloth out into the sink.

even they had come to the conclusion that this was something to do with you. you and steve in particular. the way eddie’s eyes had locked onto you the second steve had pulled him off of the boy.

you knew it. he’d been frosty and unusual with you all morning. with everyone in fact.

-

eddie emerges from his room for the first time in days. looking worse for wear and feeling just as shit. the tag on his ankle restricting him from leaving the apartment freely.

he peers down at the blinking red light, mentally cursing the plastic as he drags his feet along the carpet. he can hear you and steve chatting quietly, not really able to make out what was being said.

not expecting you both to be sprawled out on the couch, your leg draped over his waist as your delicate fingers combed through his hair. the last few days had been so bleak, that he couldn’t really find it in himself to hate that you were sharing these moments with steve.

he sighs loudly, hoping to let you know he’d entered the room. not wanted to be involuntarily including in whatever may have happened next.

you sit up slightly, gazing at him stood behind the kitchen counter, ‘hey,’ it’s quiet, but he hears it. almost deciding to ignore until he remembers how much you’d doted on him and helped him recently.

‘hi,’ but he doesn’t look back, staring into the empty fridge, waiting for something to materialise. but it doesn’t.

‘when’s your court date?’

the words sear in his ear, an unwelcome subject.

‘next tuesday,’ deciding upon a swig of milk straight from the carton, not exactly the five-course meal he was hoping for.

‘okay well, we were.. we’re gonna come, y’know.. for support,’ your eyes are unrelenting, following him around the kitchen.

‘don’t bother, i’m pleading innocent,’ completely monotonous in his response.

he’d already argued with the state provided lawyer about this. a shoddy man who could not care less whether eddie went down or not, just wanting to cash his cheque at the end of it all.

the balding man had called him stupid, ‘there are multiple witnesses.. plead guilty and they’ll probably pity you n’ slap you with some community service or summit.. don’t be stupid son.’

you scoff, using steve’s chest as leverage as you sit up properly, ‘you’re joking? right?’

his eyes finally meet yours, thumping his fists on the marble counter, ‘i am innocent,’ no one could understand where he was coming from, not even the man who was being paid to at least pretend to care and understand.

‘you beat the shit out of him, eddie.. you broke his fucking jaw,’ your eyes are wide, looking at him like he’s an idiot- which he was, but not about this.

‘i was provoked, self defence,’ he says in all serious. he was frustrated, lashed out but at the end of it all, the guy had bashed him first.

‘wh- because he accidentally knocked into you? you really must be fucking stupid.. what are you thinking?’

eddie notices steve, or what he could see of him, tense up, obviously not wanting to anger the violent monster eddie had become in so many people’s eyes.

‘it’s my choice.. i was fucking provoked, saw some stupid shit.. that’s not my fault,’ relinquishing the blame to you.

in his eyes, if he hadn’t seen the disgusting display of affection, he probably wouldn’t have fucked up that boy. but he had, and that wasn’t his fault. so how was he guilty?

‘you’re ridiculous.. i actually can’t believe you,’ your eyes full of disappointment.

the way your face falls, eyes narrowed and sharp as knives makes his heart twist. genuine hurt flashed on your face. almost paralleling the horrified expression you’d held as he was cuffed and dragged away.

‘it’s my decision, i wouldn’t expect you to know a thing about what it’s like to be me,’ kicking the fridge door closed with a loud thump.

you disappear from his sight, flopping back down onto steve’s chest with an exasperated sigh. he rolls his eyes before stomping off into his bedroom. his mood probably wouldn’t be so terrible if he could just leave this godforsaken apartment.

actually, why shouldn’t he? if you were so certain that he was going to jail anyway, what harm was there in going out? fuck it.

so he gets dressed, pulling his denim jacket on and spritzing himself with aftershave. he’d worry about the tag later, surely one of his buddies would have something to hack it off with. hopefully with minimal damage to his leg.

you don’t even look up from steve’s eyes when he comes back out, having had enough of his idiotic attitude for the day.

‘woah, where are you go-,’ steve starts before being cut off with the front door shutting, he was gone, without so much of a look back.

jogging down the stairs and out of this suffocating hellhole.

-

it doesn’t take long for the police to show up, banging their fists on the door and red in the face with anger.

they grilled you and steve for what felt like hours. making sure you hadn’t helped in his escape. tearing his room apart for some sort of clue to where he’d gone.

‘we found the tag at a location not far from here.. could anyone be hiding him? he’s in serious trouble.. we need anything you’ve got,’ the officer pleads, frustrated with having to deal with this bullshit on a thursday night. you don’t blame him.

you shake your head, ‘no.. i-i mean, there’s a few bars down on main but our friends aren’t stupid enough to help him.’

any previous feelings of worry had disappeared, replaced with frustration. you weren’t prepared to spend your whole life trying to find eddie every time he decided to run away. he so obviously didn’t give a shit about what you thought, it was a waste of energy at this point.

the officer sighs, ‘right, well you let us know if he gets in contact or comes back here,’ rummaging in his pocket for a small bit of card, ‘that’s my personal number.. call me straight away.’

you nod, thumbing the glossy card and flopping back onto the couch. steve shows them out, closing the door softly after they leave. he gives you a look, full of pity. he doesn’t say a thing but you know what he’s thinking.

‘i’m done,’ holding your hands up, ‘he can get himself out of this one.. i don’t care anymore,’ surrendering completely.

he nods, looking as just as tired as you felt. sometimes you forget that this isn’t just between you and eddie, steve is right in the middle of it all too, staying quiet and holding back for eddie’s sake.

you’d tried to be courteous and thoughtful with eddie. pulling away from steve when he’d enter the room, trying not to be so overly affectionate in front of him. you felt like maybe you owed him that for how you’d gone about it, but why?

not once had he ever shown interest in being with you romantically, he was the one that’d explicitly said that you and him were friends with some added benefits. screw him.

‘you hungry? i wanna get out of here,’ pushing yourself from the couch and throwing your arms around steve’s waist, cheek squished against his chest.

‘i could eat,’ returning the hug, swaying slightly as his hands roam around your back.

-

eddie’s pov

eddie checks his phone for the umpteenth time.

no new notifications

he was anticipating at least something from you by now. hell, even a pathetic hi would’ve sufficed. the man wasn’t dumb, choosing to hole himself up in gareth’s basement with a six-pack rather than hitting the main spots.

he questions whether the dinghy, dark basement was any better than the confines of the room he’d escaped. supposing that you and steve weren’t next door, anything would be better.

he debates just calling you first. curious to know why you hadn’t called. maybe after the next beer. or maybe now. fuck it, it’s already dialling.

it rings and rings, becoming increasingly concerned with your well-being.

‘what?’ your voice rings out after the fifth or sixth ring.

he’s taken aback, ‘hello to you too,’ taking another swig of beer, his knees pulled up to his chest.

‘what d’you want?’

christ. you really weren’t falling for it this time.

‘nothin’.. just expected to hear from you by now, that’s all.’

he can hear the eye roll through the phone, your tiny almost inaudible little tut, ‘i’m not saving you this time.’

‘i didn’t ask you to.’

‘so why’d you call then? i’m busy.’

‘you with steve?’ he doesn’t even know why he asked, of course you were.

‘yeah, i am.. is that what you wanted to hear? or were you hoping i was out searching for you with the police?’

ouch. you’d called him out. figured out his silly game and threw it straight back in his face.

‘i didn’t- you just had to rub it in, didn’t you?’ anger rising in his throat, ‘you always do.’

‘you think i’m doing this to make you jealous? this isn’t about you anymore.. you need to get over yourself,’ you sigh, empathetic about the harsh words that’d just spilled out, ‘i love him, eddie.. you’re gonna have to deal with that.’

and with that the phone clicks. you’d hung up. you had hung up on him, no grovelling or pleading for him to come back home. that was it. the harsh truth and now he had to just sit with it.

his head falls back against the cold brick, staring up at the damp covered ceiling, weighing up his options. he knew he’d fucked up. best case scenario, he’d get a couple extra months on his sentence. worst case, they’d throw the book at him for wasting their time.. not to mention the already hefty sentence for the assault.

you had completely and utterly exhausted yourself trying to support him and even you had had enough. he only had himself to blame for that. maybe jail would be a good thing? he could get his head straight.. get over you, maybe even find some purpose in his life.

he pulls another beer from the pack, cracking it open and taking a long swig. exhaling as the bitter liquid seeps down his throat. there was only one way out of this fucked situation and he knew that.

-

eddie perks up when he hears your key in the door, sat on the couch for what seemed like hours waiting for you both to get back.

your face drops the instant you see him, gripping onto steve’s hand as you walk into the dimly lit living room.

eddie stands, holding up his hands, ‘i’m gonna hand myself in.. i just-,’ he exhales deeply, ‘i wanted to say goodbye,’ jaw tense as he looms between you and steve.

‘you are? do you want me to call the sheriff? i- he gave me his number..’

‘no, no.. i’m gonna go down there.. it’s easier,’ eddie motions towards the door, shaking his head.

you stand dumbfounded for a second before nodding slowly, chewing on the inside of your cheek, ‘it’s the right thing to do..’ the lump in your throat growing as you look back at the pathetic man in front of you.

steve gives him a weak smile, patting his hand on your arm. there’s a brief moment of silence. the three of you all staring back at one another in awe of the fucked up mess you’d wound up in.

‘c’mere,’ steve motions to eddie, walking over to the boy with arms outstretched. he pulls him into a bear hug, clapping his palm on eddie’s back.

from the look on eddie’s face squished against steve’s shoulder you can tell he needed it, ‘i’ll miss you man..’ he breathes into his best friend’s sweater.

‘we’ll come and visit.. you’re not getting rid of me that easy,’ his laugh is shaky as he pulls away, smiling proudly at his friend.

you stand slightly behind steve, watching on with tears brimming in your eyes. even though steve had tried to reassure you, you couldn’t help but feel so guilty that this had ultimately all happened because of you.

eddie walks over slowly, throwing his arms around your body, gripping his fingers into your arms knowing that this may very well be the last time he ever got to hold you like this.

your arms cling around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest, ‘i’m proud of you..’ was all you managed to croak out, tears wetting his dirty t-shirt.

he sniffs, swallowing the lump in his throat, ‘thank you.. for everything,’ because truly, you were the only person to never give up on him, even if he had made it incredibly difficult for you.

you lift your head off of his chest, staring up at him with sodden cheeks, bottom lip quivering as you let go of him. both physically and emotionally.

he puffs his cheeks out, wiping his face with the back of his hand before clearing his throat and nodding at the pair of you, ‘you take care of her..’ eyebrow raised.

‘aye aye captain,’ steve gives him a tight lipped smile and a half-assed salute, watching as the man he had grown up with walked out of the apartment, head held high and a newfound spring in his step.

the end of the beginning.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #steve harrington smut

[imogenkol]

Ok my first reaction was I didn’t like how the dragons disobeyed their riders like that, but after thinking about it I think it’s kinda brilliant when it comes to the behaviors of dragons.

First, both Arrax and Luke were really young and had absolutely zero combat experience. As soon as they saw Vhagar, it’s very obvious they simultaneously became a lot more tense. Then after Luke had his encounter with Aemond and left you can see Arrax looking in the direction of where Vhagar was in clear distress and Luke does the same thing before mounting. Luke realized their anxiety was high and he did his best to calm Arrax down before taking flight, but that all went out the window as soon as Vhagar gave chase. Now you have a child and a very young and small dragon that are bonded together in a very scary situation: being chased down by a behemoth in the middle of a raging storm (poor Arrax was flapping his wings as hard as he could) I personally think Arrax went on the offense to try and protect both himself and Luke, if only to give them a chance to escape. Both of them did the best they could.

Then you have Vhagar, an extremely old, massive, experienced dragon that is bonded to an inexperienced rider who is feeling a lot of unhinged rage and resentment. They were flying in attack maneuvers ffs I doubt she thought it was a game. And then this little dragon has the audacity to breathe fire in her face. Of course she’s not going to deal with that shit, as utterly tragic as her response is.

At the end of the day, dragons are not mindless war machines that will obey every command. They’re very powerful animals. No matter how trained or bonded with their owners they are, very powerful animals can and will do what they want.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon spoilers #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #Arrax #Vhagar #I know a lot of people are big mad but I thought this was well done #at the end of the day people gotta remember the book is from the pov of an unreliable narrator #the show is showing what REALLY happened #tbh I think Aemond is a lot more compelling villain #he can still be evil even tho he didn’t mean to kill his nephew #like the war hasn’t even started yet #and yeah that scene was deeply upsetting to watch #I’ll need an undisclosed amount of business days to recover #but I am nerding out a bit on the behaviors of dragons in that scene

[delta-piscium]

Murray, after watching Steve and Eddie for all of five seconds, confidently walks up to them and starts his whole spiel about pining blah blah etc etc, and like, Steve will absolutely not have that, there is no way.

So he snorts, looks at Murray down his nose, and with zero hesitation lies, tells him “We’ve been dating for a month, congrats on seeing the obvious... Or not since you couldn’t tell”

He just hopes Eddie will play along. Steve is sending him the strongest signals with his mind right now, and, just, he knows Eddie can be petty like this too (that’s why he likes him so much, and yeah Murray is a little right but fuck him so much more for it)

Eddie ‘lives for the bit and to fuck with people’ Munson does not disappoint. He slings an arm around Steve and is like “Yeaaahhh wow, real clever observation there buddy.” In the driest tone imaginable

And Murray, well he was sure he was right, still kind of is sure he’s right so he just squints at them for a bit and then breaks out in a wide grin, and only sounds a little sarcastic when he says “Congrats on figuring your shit out yourselves.” 

Except he absolutely does not mean it because he wanted to do that, he likes doing that. And now he's sulking and will watch them so closely because something seems off 

Eddie and Steve, so committed to the bit and to not let Murray win, start fake dating. All while Murray tries to catch them in their lie, and they’re all too stubborn to give up

Murray starts to slowly think he maybe was wrong though because they really seem like a couple. And even though there’s still something there he can’t ignore the proof.

When they straight up make out in front of him, and he can tell that they’re so lost in each other they probably don’t know he’s there he's about to concede

But then after that, they act so weird around each other again? It’s like before but worse and how did the pining get worse when they’re actually openly together? Regularly have their tongues down each other's throats and all?

Meanwhile, Steve and Eddie are going through it because they thought they’d be okay but that kiss was so much, and oh god they don’t think they can do this? But they can’t let Murray win?

A week and a half later at their monthly 'we survived the apocalypse, again' get-together at Hoppers and Joyce’s, Murray just gets enough of how twitchy they are. He grabs them both and locks them in a closet and is like “I don’t wanna know anymore, whatever fight you had or didn’t figure it out”

They sort of stand there shuffling from foot to foot not marking eye contact until Eddie is just like “Oh for fucks sake, I like you for real okay? The bastard was right so can we actually just date? Please?” And all Steve's can do is say "Thank god," while he smiles the most blinding smile and grabs Eddie by his collar pulling him in for a kiss

Fifteen minutes later they come out of the closet (the irony and symbolism is not lost on them) all disheveled and a little too satisfied looking and are met with very loud screaming from all the younger teens, ranging from a simple “Ew!” (Mike) to “Dude we are right here what if we'd heard? Or walked in there and seen?” (Dustin)

They’re lucky they’re too distracted by this to see Murray's self-satisfied smirk because if they did they would have pretend broken up and there would have been another month of sneaking around but this time actually dating and pretending they weren’t

#I'm bringing you all another steddie gets Murray'd take because well I can #and bc I think they'd be so bitchy to him about it and like see it as war #they refuse to admit he got them together until years later and even then they're like 'we would have gotten there quicker and with less #confusion without him- he was a roadblock actually' #they’re bitch boyfriends ok? #Murray moves on to Nancy and Robin after this and both Nancy who has been Murray'd before and Robin who knew this whole mess #just shake their heads and is like 'you quiet- we are not doing this let us figure out our own lives' #dels steddie thoughts #steddie headcanon #my post #steddie ficlet #murray bauman #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

[229zmi]

HEAD OVER HEELS

PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurō/Reader

CONTENT: confessions, friends to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.0k

“We need to talk.”

“Holy shit,” are the first words that escape your mouth moments after you open the door and step a singular foot into the hallway.

Before the person in front of you even has the chance to react to your very kind and courteous reaction, you proceed to slowly slide your foot back inside the classroom you were just about to exit, the noise of your sneakers scraping over the metal frame piercing the silence. Kuroo stifles a laugh behind his hand, smoothly playing it off as a cough.

Right as you’re about to shut the door, he swiftly sticks a foot in the doorway and then side shuffles his way in like a crab, all while combatting your feeble attempts to squash him with the door. Once you realise this guy isn’t going anywhere without a word with you, you give up with an aggravated sigh and step aside, giving him the Kubrick stare as he strolls past you.

You’re still glaring at him when he takes a seat on top of one of the desks, using the chair as a foot rest.

The table’s long enough that the two of you could comfortably sit side-by-side on it. He gestures to the empty space beside him, yet you don’t budge an inch from your spot. Instead, you opt to exhibit main character syndrome by crossing your arms and leaning against the wall at an uncomfortable angle. Seconds later, though, you shift your position, awkwardly shuffling to more comfortable pose.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Kuroo says in a stiff manner that leads you to believe he’s got a pre-written speech that he skimmed over only once before shoving it in his pockets. He glances around the room, everywhere but you. Fidgets with his watch, twisting it around and around his wrist. Clears his throat, before speaking up again when it becomes obvious you have nothing to say in response. “Actually— it’s been almost a month since we last talked. Now if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

He raises an eyebrow as if to silently question you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you announce haughtily. You pretend to think long and hard by simultaneously placing a finger on your chin and averting your gaze to one of the cobwebbed corners of the ceiling as you rack your brain for any memory of a conversation with him over these past few weeks. Come to think of it, he’s right, as much as you’d rather not admit that right now. The number of words exchanged between you and Kuroo has been… low, as of lately.

But not zero.

You snap your fingers and smile at your newfound eureka moment. “We talked during our physics lab last Tuesday.”

All he gives you is a placid stare because he’s not really believing what you’re saying right now. Slowly, he responds, “I asked if I could borrow a pencil from you and you said no.”

“‘Cause I didn’t have an extra one.” Lies. Kuroo knows of your susceptibility to ordering cute stationery from sketchy websites online and bringing all of them with you everywhere you go. Nonetheless, he holds back on calling out your fib. “It’s still talking anyway, so I don’t really see the problem,” you say.

“…Okay, then I rescind my sentence. It’s been almost a month since we’ve last had an actual conversation,” he corrects himself, his tone hinting at the tiniest bit of spite. “My point still stands. You haven’t been answering any of my calls or texts. All of a sudden, you go out of your way to sit on the opposite side of the classroom instead of your usual seat next to me. And every time I see you around on campus, you turn around and speed-walk in the other direction before I can even wave hi to you. It’s like watching on you move at 2x speed every time.”

He holds up two fingers and then wriggles them upside down in a way that’s supposed to mimic your alleged speed-walking. Clearly unimpressed, your upper lip curls into a scowl.

“Sounds a lot to me like avoidance, unless you’re purposely playing hard-to-get all of a sudden.”

“Those are some bold allegations.“

“Sure. Maybe they are.” He doesn’t bother arguing with you on that, which you believe is out of the ordinary, and it leaves an unsettling feeling in your gut. In all the years you’ve known him, you can’t remember the last time he agreed with you just like that, no debate or annoying remarks or anything, because it’s always been like this: you say literally anything with no evidence or explanation, and he plays pretend as someone having PhD in whatever it is that you’re talking about.

Maybe, you think dejectedly, you really did ruin your years-long friendship that one fateful day, the day you accidentally had one too many drinks and ended up spewing into the air a mix of vomit, nonsensical philosophies, and a confession you didn’t mean to ever let loose from the sanctuary of your heart. Maybe, things are changing, for the worse; and maybe, a rejection is going to come hurtling at your face soon, sometime in next couple minutes— that is, if you make it through the rest of this conversation without actually exploding internally. Either that, or power-walking away like a coward, the way you’ve been doing for the past month.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you watch as Kuroo leans back, bracing his hand against the surface of the table. You think this is the moment; this is when he’ll say something along the vague lines of the two of you just staying friends and leave it at that, and for the weeks that follow afterward, you’ll mull around in your room, sulking over your very first heartbreak until the motivation hits and you get the coming-of-age movie glow-up you’ve always dreamed of.

However, the next thing you hear out of him is far worse than anything you could imagine, making the warmth in your cheeks flare up the second his words register to you — or rather, your words.

“But maybe they’re not as bold as you the day right before you started avoiding me, when you said, and I quote, ‘Tetsurō,’” he pitches his voice to sound more like yours, though the impression is done exaggeratedly, “‘I think I’m falling in love with you.’”

???? Why did he do that.

The nerve of this man. You want to scream. Punch the wall. Kick him in the face. Because if the embarrassment that crushed you like a hydraulic press the morning after your confession was enough to almost kill you, this just brought you straight to your grave without warning, burying you six feet under. You start mentally counting all his eyebrow hairs, partly because you can’t stand to see that heinously satisfied look in his eyes right now, but also because you hope your sudden focus on the forehead region of his face will at least dwindle his confidence by a little bit.

(Though, perhaps the less vengeful part of you is glad to see the familiar smug Kuroo you know so well, as opposed to the prior Kuroo who looked like he hadn’t taken a shit in several weeks.)

“You really suck,” you drawl, finally shifting your attention away from his eyebrows only to send him a glare. “Do you think my feelings are a joke?”

His lips morph into a frown. “Hey, no. I wasn’t—“ He shakes his head, then tries to reassure you, “I don’t think your feelings are a joke, and I’m sorry I made it seem that way. I brought it up only because I wasn’t sure whether you remembered or not and I was wondering if you really meant it.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“At first, I wasn’t going to talk about it with you, especially if you weren’t going to bring it up first, but then you started avoiding me and… [Y/n], I miss you a lot. I miss waking up to your texts and pictures of the ugly squirrels outside your window.” (You mutter something under your breath about how they aren’t that ugly.) “I miss sitting next to you and watching you switch between twenty different pens and highlighters during class.” (You bet he misses switching the caps of your highlighters, too, whenever you’re not looking.) “And I hate acting like we’re strangers whenever I see you on campus because, as funny as it is, it hurts a lot right here.”

He places a hand over his heart with a wounded expression. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you simply let out a dejected sigh.

“I.. I’ve missed you too,” you admit reluctantly. You twiddle your fingers and avert your eyes, wallowing in the awkward silence that ensues after. Kuroo seems to be thinking, centring his analytical gaze onto you as if trying to read your thoughts.

“Did you mean it? What you said at that party last month?”

Wow! Suddenly, that clock on the wall looks super interesting. “You know, my next class starts in a few minutes, I should really get going. See you—“

“I know your schedule,” he cuts in, his tone carrying a certain degree of slyness to it. “You don’t have class until four.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Weirdo.”

“Liar,” he retorts with a sickly sweet smile. For the second time in this conversation, you get the violent urge to scream, punch the wall, and kiss— sorry, kick him in the face all at once.

There’s another silence that follows and that you believe is the worst one you’ve sat through in a while, even worse than the silence you experienced in your first year after mispronouncing the word ‘organism’ during a presentation. You chew the inside of your cheek, feeling your heart thump wildly against your chest. He waits expectantly.

He really isn’t going to let this go.

“I did mean it,” you say eventually. Eugh, yuck! Even just admitting that already makes you want to coil into yourself. “You make me so sick to my stomach with your shitty grin and your shitty charm and your shitty hair, and sometimes I wonder what heinous crime or sin I committed in a past life to deserve this feeling because it never goes away, only gets worse the more we hang out and—“

“Woah, woah, woah. Hold on.” There’s a look of incredulity on his face, almost offended.

“…What?” you say.

“You called my hair shitty.” Again, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes, instead settling for a less-than-impressed expression. “I can’t believe you’d lie and say something like that. It’s practically a fine art, getting it to look like this, you know.”

“I’m sure it is.” You straighten your back and abruptly push yourself off the wall before ungracefully shuffling to the side, towards the door. “Well. We talked. You got your answer. Soooo, I am departing. Goodbye.”

“Wait.” He stands up and chases after you, nearly colliding with your back when you suddenly stop and turn around. There appears to be an unspoken agreement as soon as the both of you realise the amount of space in between your faces: mere inches. Neither of you seem willing to back away. “Before you go, I have something else to tell you.”

“Make it quick.”

A light laugh from him brushes against your nose. You try not to think about it. “You’re in that much of a hurry to get away from me already?”

Your face feels unbearably warm. “Shut up.”

“How sweet of you,” he coos, reaching up to pinch your cheek affectionately. Despite your irritated expression, you make no effort to swat his hand away.

He then leans in close, a debonair grin dancing at the corners of his mouth as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. However, you note that in your peripheral vision, his ears are tinted red and in spite of his confident, teasing front, he still sounds the tiniest bit abashed as he whispers, “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, too.”

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #229ZMI

[elliesmistress]

Here are some loser!Ellie hc's, my imagination about how Ellie "coming out to Joel" and just her in general.

Warnings: swearing, drug usage (weed) Ellie is in high school (but in her final year so she's 18), no use of y/n, suggestive themes (kissing and cuddling AHHH 🤭🤭🤭), Ellie bottoms! 😨😨

♡ Loser!Ellie who met you during band practice at school, she was tuning her guitar and you came up to her and Dina .

"hey, is anyone using this drum kit?" Your tone was so sweet and my god did Ellie fold, she was just stuck, she couldn't say anything and Dina laughed at her. "No one's using it hon, you can use it" and when you played, my fucking god was Ellie shocked- she never thought someone so innocent looking would play so fucking good.

♡ Loser!Ellie who DEFINITELY offered to give you guitar lessons just so she could get closer to you and to give you lessons-

"hey, so I was just wondering if you wanted to come to mine sometime?" You ask Ellie and she freezes, she can't believe you've just asked her that and she agrees and that's how you guys started dating

♡ Loser!Ellie who definitely NEVER tells Joel about you two dating but he's not dumb

♡ Loser!Ellie who whenever she gets back from school and Joel would ask about her day, she would go ON AND ON about you, like will NOT shut up about you. "That's nice kiddo, do you maybe wanna tell me what you did today?"

♡ Loser!Ellie 100% denies being gay, it's so obvious tho, like. She's got her Calvin Klein boxers all over her room, the way she talks about you, the way she gets all nervous whenever you come over for a "sleepover" (it was really a sleepover date) she CANNOT stop blushing when you're around her-

♡ Loser!Ellie who taught you how to rip a fat cone from a bong . "Yeah so like you kinda just" she put the bong to her mouth, using the lighter she blows in and breathes in for a decent 20 seconds before blowing out, let's just say you both hot boxed the room. Thank fuck Joel wasn't home.

♡ Loser!Ellie who 100% got you stoned for the first time (at Joel's house) and you called her "Els" for the first time and got SUPER tense and nervous, blushing like a little tomato <33

♡ Loser!Ellie who definitely gets stoned with you and plays games like Minecraft, TWD (the game), horizon zero dawn.

♡ Loser!Ellie who refused to get up and pee when you were falling asleep on her shoulder, like this bitch was BUSTING but nope, can't move because you were falling asleep.

♡ Loser!Ellie who went downstairs shit faced stoned (eyes red, puffy eyes, very noticeable) because you were hungry and wanted a snack, who was "creeping" down the stairs and went to the pantry only for Joel to scare the shit out of her

"Ellie what are you doing?" She fucking screamed, dropping the chips "Joel?! What the fuck?"

"Go to bed kiddo it's late"

♡ Loser!Elliewho's a bottom, sorry I don't care about what y'all say, she's a bottom- your on her chest, she's hugging you closer to her and your planting little kisses on her collar bone. Once you both are asleep, Joel just knocks at the door and slightly opens it to make sure you guys are ok and he smiles when he sees you guys cuddling.

♡ Loser!Ellie who's 100% the little spoon, she wants to be all big and tough but as soon as you offer her "tough guy personality" immediately dies "do you want me to spoon you?" You offer and she frantically nods "yes, yes yes pleaseeeeeee"

♡ Loser!Ellie who falls asleep on your chest watching a super serious romance, comedy movie

♡ Loser!Ellie definitely listens to Rage against the machine, absolutely loves that fucking band, but she also likes chase Atlantic.

♡ Loser!Ellie who is at a party with you and decides she can handle 5 shots (she can barely handle 2) so you have to drag her into the house with Joel laughing his ass off and she's just drunk and mumbling stupid shit "No! I'm not wasted you are!" Pointing at you and giggling like a little kid.

♡ Loser!Ellie who definitely walks out of her room with the small hickey's you gave her (didn't want Joel to see) but he saw and brought it up making her blush because you were next to her-

♡ Loser!Ellie who's doing the dishes and you get home from work and run over to her and hug her from behind, kissing her gently on her shoulder and her giggling like a mad man- slightly pushing you off "babeeee, I'm doing the dishes!"

♡ Loser!Ellie who doesn't let you pay for food, ANY FOOD! If you guys are high and watching something and you do "babe? Can we get some uber eats?" She grabs her phone, you get what you want and go "here's my card" and she shushes you and pays with her card.

♡ Loser!Ellie definitely gets mad when you don't offer her to shower with you, you get home from work all sweaty and disgusting and she rushes over to you and hugs you-

"ewww, ellieeee!" You shriek "I'm all yucky get off" and she simply goes "missed you sm"

"okay well I gotta go shower so" and she lets go and gives you puppy dog eyes "without me?" Her voice is soft and sad, you giggle. Ofc not, go get the towels.

♡ Loser!Ellie who is at dinner with Joel and Joel doesn't know how to bring it up but he just goes for it.

"Soo... She's a good friend of yours?" He says, putting down his fork. She looks up at him and nods "yeah" he coughs, looking at her with a stronger gaze than before "is she uh- is she your girlfriend?" Ellie looks at him and says "no"

"I wasn't born last night kiddo" he chuckles at how defensive she's gotten and then she finally admits it-

PART 2??

A/n: HIYAAA POOKIES <33 I know I've done absolutely fuck all the past few months BUT HEREEEEE (please don't come after my soul) haven't been too motivated to write again but I got motivated to write this and YES I am still WORKING on I never existed but yet again, it's not the type of writing I do because Ellie is a little cutie patooti , so I might change it slightlyyyyy so it's not AS TOXIC) love you all x

#ellie x fem reader #the last of us #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie imagine #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #ellie tlou #sapphic #wlw nsft #wlw post #lesbianism #lesbians #lesbian yearning #wlw love #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #tlou 2 #the last of us part ii #tlou ellie #no y/n #modern au

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for yesdangerpls; the last son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

“A version of you was conquering alternate realities,” Bruce says, still neutral. 

“Uh,” Kon says, looking embarrassed. “Kinda, yeah? Kinda definitely, actually. I mean–dude had some issues. His home reality wasn’t really all that clone-friendly, and shit kinda went to shit there, and then he just decided ‘actually killing inconvenient people is ethically okay if I just make clones out of their dead bodies and give those clones their memories after’, so, uh . . . issues, like I said. Serious ones.” 

“And you don’t think that’s ethical?” Bruce says, which is an obvious test. Kon glowers at him as Clark resists the urge to sigh at Bruce. The man’s as paranoid as ever, no surprise. It’s . . . understandable, admittedly, but not exactly fair in this situation. 

“Clones are their own people,” Kon says, setting his jaw stubbornly. “No matter whose memories you stick in our heads.” 

“That’s a school of thought,” Bruce says neutrally. Kon scowls, then pointedly lifts his lassoed wrist. 

“You’re an asshole,” he says emphatically. Clark has to muffle a snort of laughter behind his hand; Diana does the same. Bruce looks sour. Clark knows he doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough, but he just can’t look at this kid and see a threat. 

Of course, that’s part of why Bruce doesn’t think they’re taking this seriously enough. 

“And you’re asking for a lot of trust, for someone who’s reportedly an interdimensional conqueror in at least one reality,” Bruce says. “Why should we believe this version of you is any different from Black Zero?” 

“For the record, it was a version of me that stopped him, too,” Kon says, still scowling at him. “Like, a whole bunch of versions of me. And we didn’t all survive the experience. So I dunno, democratically speaking I think I’m mostly not a shithead.” 

“And you don’t know how to return to your home reality?” Diana asks. Kon grimaces, then shakes his head. 

“No idea,” he says. “I only got out into Hypertime to begin with because another Superboy showed up in our Watchtower with a hyperjacket keyed to his DNA and, uh . . . crash-landed and died right in the middle of a JLA meeting, actually. He was–injured, when he made the jump. Didn’t survive it. He was with the resistance. Was trying to warn our reality that Black Zero was coming, but . . .” 

Clark feels immediately nauseous at that thought; wonders how traumatic and horrible it was for his alternate version to watch that happen and not be able to save that version of Kon. Wonders if that Kon’s version of him even knows what happened to him. If . . . 

He tries not to think about it. It’s not something he can do anything about. 

It’s definitely motivating him to get this Kon home all the quicker, though. His other self must be losing his mind right now. 

“Satisfied?” he asks Bruce, raising an eyebrow at him again. He’d be amused, a little, if he weren’t still thinking about what had happened to that other version of Kon: about a kid that young dying far from home trying to do the right thing, surrounded by a roomful of heroes who couldn’t save him. 

“No,” Bruce says. 

“Batman, there are multiple realities in which all of us are supervillains,” Diana says wryly, unlooping her lasso from Kon’s wrist and winding it up again. “We can hardly blame Kon-El for the crimes of a single version of himself.” 

Bruce has a look on his face that makes it very clear that he does, in fact, think they can do that. Bruce also thinks that about them, though, himself included, so Clark isn’t going to give that concern particularly heavy weight right now.

#yesdangerpls #wip: the last son of krypton meets hypertime kon #long post

[normal-internet-user]

My first time asking but, when you will have time will all the ask will you be able to do a TMNT 2012 x male reader who is taller and stronger them them? If the male reader is hard to do it can be changed to female reader, i just haven't seen a lot of male reader fanfics

And btw great work, I've been banging your fanfics for like the whole day today. I guess a fan from Romania here <3<3

LITERALLY SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO THIS REQUEST, and of course I can do male reader! No issues there! 😭- Tysm I'm so glad you enjoy my writing! <3

2012 BOYS WITH A MALE S/O WHO'S STRONGER THAN THEM:

....................................

Raph:

We all know Raph loves a partner who's bigger and stronger than him.

He likes when you hold him when you're cuddling.

(Total little spoon energy)

Definitly stares at you when you work out, totally not obvious about it.

Like at all. *She said sarcastically*

If you ever need to like carry him to safety or something?

He is a mess holy crap.

Literally forgets how to function.

He likes training with you.

Mikey:

He's a talker, so he's very vocal about how awesome he thinks you are.

Pick up something heavy?

Mikey's in absolute awe.

Casually lift him out of the way of something?

You may as well be a god.

He definitly asks you to carry him around with zero shame.

He makes your height difference seem much more dramatic than it really is.

i.e grabbing like a stool or something to give you a smooch.

Leo:

Oh he's a fucking disaster holy shit.

If you do even anything that remotely requires your strength, you'd think you proposed or something.

He gets all red and blushy and avoids eye contact.

Also likes to be held during cuddle time.

He's stressed ok? Give my mans his cuddles.

Casually asks for your help with little things like moving that or grabbing this.

If you ever pick him up, he'll quite literally forget how to function.

Any and all knowledge about exsisting just flies out of his head.

Donnie:

He has you help him around the lab moving heavy equiptment, putting things away or grabbing high objects etc.

Even if you're a constant presence in his lab, whenever you move something heavy effortlessly he is a mess-

Please do not tease him about it, he will probably perish.

Like's to lay ontop of your chest with your arms around him when you cuddle.

Makes him feel all safe and warm.

If he refuses to leave his lab just pick him up, wtf is he gonna do about it?

As his boyfriend, you have every right to physically remove him from his work for bedtime.

....................................

Once again I am SO sorry for the delay with requests, writers block hit me like a sack of bricks-

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #mikey x reader #tmnt x male reader #male reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt 2012 #normie writes #tmnt x reader headcanons

[shitswiftiessay]

Swifties are PAINFULLY fucking stupid.

I shouldn’t be getting THIS heated over a Disney comparison but the Kristoff slander is absolutely fucking wild. Kristoff (at least in the first movie) is both poor and an introvert. Those are two things that swifties HATE Joe for. He also had to work since he was a child, which is something swifties make fun of Joe for- calling him yogurt boy. And he DEFINITELY would think that award shows are stupid.

Hans is much more like Travis in the fact that he pursued a woman for his own gain. Whereas Kristoff was just trying to live his life and didn’t even WANT to get involved in Anna’s shit, Hans wanted to become king, so he pursued Anna (a naive and desperate young woman- which is what swifties are trying to paint Taylor as) and made himself look like her dream guy- “true love.”

Last summer, Travis publicly and relentlessly pursued Taylor with his story about how he tried to give her a friendship bracelet with his number. And he’s been reaping the benefits of dating Taylor Swift, he’s got new TV gigs, his podcast shot up on the charts, and he might even be getting his own reality show.

He tried to pass himself off as a fan, Even though he’s blatantly obvious that he DOESN’T listen to her music. But his little pretend act of being a fan charmed the shit out of swifties and made them believe he was her Prince Charming. All he has to do is that stupid 🫶 thing and he’s got the swifties swooned, much like Hans had Anna swooned from the minute he met her. But his intentions were completely self-serving.

And another thing I find interesting is the fact that Hans proposed to Anna a few hours after meeting her. IF ANYTHING, that couple is literally a lesson on NOT marrying a guy you just met. And yet, Swifties have been talking about Taylor marrying Travis since that first football game-even BEFORE then.

But Joe, the guy who didn’t want to marry taylor, is just like Hans? The one who was in a long term relationship that ultimately didn’t work out is JUST LIKE HANS??

It beggars belief how swifties could be so stupid, because they either didn’t watch the movie, didn’t fully understand it (because they are less cognitively capable than 5 year olds), or they’re so addicted to painting Joe as this cartoonist Disney villain in their heads that they think it’s perfectly reasonable to compare Joe to a character that was trying to KILL his fiancée and her sister.

I the stupidity of comparing Taylor Swift to Anna- a girl who’s been isolated in a castle for most of her life and has ZERO relationship experience - I think she’s supposed to be like 18 or something? Very young and inexperienced and naive. Taylor was 26 years old when she started dating Joe and she had plenty of relationship experience before then.

Taylor literally wrote MASTERMIND, but swifties still see her as this naive and innocent disney princess who is easily manipulated and taken advantage of by men. So I guess they think it’s a reasonable comparison because they understand disney movies as well as they understand Taylor’s lyrics- which is NOT AT ALL.

#this was an unnecessarily long rant #but what the fuck #as someone who’s actually WATCHED the movie #that comparison genuinely pissed me off #anti taylor swift #shit swifties say #parasocial relationships #anti travis kelce #free Joe alwyn

[dragonnarrative-writes]

im the anon who sent that gaz ask and omg kyle's interlude was so good!!!!! im just giggling thinking of kyle wondering how much does she know? did she catch on somehow? fuck I have to take her out quick before she finds out how many projects ive finished and the whole time miss new girl is like. wow this guy fucking sucks at his job i want him gone from my hospital >:(

mans thinks shes gonna file a case with a police and she just thinks he's incompetent as shit

I'm so tickled. That's exactly what's happening.

CW: discussions of death and dying, autopsies, medical neglect

There’s something going on on the cardiac floor that you just… can’t quite put your finger on.

This isn’t the first hospital you’ve worked at, but you’re also new to urban healthcare, so you don’t want to rock the boat by being paranoid. But traffic from the cardiac floor is… steady. You’ve read the papers, know the stats like the back of your hand. And the cardiac floor is perfectly in line with expected trends. Every. Month.

There are fluctuations, of course. Plus or minus three to seven lives is nothing remarkable in cardiology. Macabre, maybe, but true. But that’s unnatural. In the seven months you’ve worked here, you’ve seen waves elsewhere in the hospital. The plastics floor had a month with zero deaths followed by a month of a persistent infection sweeping through the otherwise reasonably healthy patients. Oncology has seen a steady decline in patients sent your way, thank goodness. Even emergency and intensive care aren’t as fixedly consistent as the cardiac floor.

When you wonder about it aloud to the director, Dr. Martins just shrugs. “We have a good team up there. Very good at keeping things clean and double and triple checking their work.”

“But if that’s the case, then the number of deaths should be going down,” you point out.

Dennis gives you a rueful smile. “That’s not always how human bodies work, unfortunately. You know that.”

You do know that. Which is why the consistency grates against your nerves. So you decide to do a little digging.

The name that comes up the most often in the chart notes is one Kyle Garrick.

That’s actually not 100% accurate. He’s charting exactly the way he’s supposed to. And no nurse has complete, individual access to patients 24/7. But every dying patient he has access to is… perfect. Their blood work, labs, vitals, prognosis, medication adherence and refusal is almost too-the-letter, textbook precise.

The most obvious answer is that Garrick, and probably a couple of other nurses on the floor, are fudging the numbers.

The idea is infuriating. You hate the way the administrators keep changing medical record systems just as much as the next person, but inaccurate charting is a safety issue. People can, have, and do die because someone writes down the wrong timing for medications or assumes that a patient’s vitals are unchanged. If anything, this is probably worse than that. The fact that everything is so pristine probably means that some patients are just being written off. The nurses might be deciding who gets the excellent care the hospital is known for and who gets neglected.

You stay three hours late investigating the next cardio patient that ends up in your morgue.

After examining the body and reading, rereading, and re-re-re-reading his chart, you find it. A stutter in the dosages of blood thinners, a slightly higher blood pressure reading from someone who isn’t nurse Kyle fucking Garrick. Just enough evidence to have you testing the body with an aspirometer almost too late. And there it is. A fatal air embolism.

You want to scream, but the dead man doesn’t deserve that.

Three weeks later, sipping from your water bottle, someone calls into the office. “Knock knock.”

Dennis practically lights up. “"Good morning, Kyle. Been a bit since you've come to see us. Care for some tea?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. Dr Martins hates unexpected visitors. Then you look over your shoulder, and you understand. Even old queens aren't immune to pretty privilege. The man that’s leaning in the doorway is gorgeous. Maybe its because you work with dead bodies all day, but his eyes and skin seem to glow, even under the fluorescents.

"Can't," the man says, apologetically. "Just dropping someone off."

"Well, at least let me introduce our new nurse!"

The fact that you’re wiping crumbs off of your mouth over a paper plate is the only reason no one sees your face fall when you hear him say, “Nice to meet you. Kyle Garrick.”

#slasher handler #cod #fanfiction #dark fic #kyle gaz garrick #gaz appreciation nation #dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #coffeeshop chats #please keep these requests coming because when they hit they HIT #i'm having so much fun #i promise im working on the next ghost part #but the giant weirdo is fighting me #gaz is much more cooperative and considerate

[heartshapedbubble]

Hi can I request Andrew, Luca, William, Wu Chang and Antonio reacting to having an s/o that can crush a watermelon between her thighs.

this req made me shit bricks when i first received it in august LMFAOOOO this was so fun to write anon thank you so much for this/gen

andrew, luca, william, wu chang and antonio reacting to their s/o crushing a watermelon between their thighs🕸⚡🏈☂️🎻

andrew kreiss🕸

he is... confused to say the least

when you first did it he jumped out of fear thinking you hurt yourself by doing so

this man would probably burst into flames after one pretzel stick he has NO idea how to react

....he'd be lying if he said it doesn't interest him though

like. he is INCREDIBLY lost and maybe even disturbed but like. do it again

"is this something they do to sinners in hell? can you use it as self defense? does it hurt your thighs?" a bit gulity of asking these questions ngl but he can't help it

might start avoiding you after that... simply out of fear that it was a bad omen and that you might try crushing his skull instead when he messes up in the games LMAO

william ellis🏈

not shocked at all

he didnt even fucking flinch when it burst he just stood there with his usual 😃 face

"hehe. nice. now watch me" (proceeds to crush a watermelon with his own thighs)

tbh william can be competitive as hell and he would somehow make a competition out of this too

after that whenever y'all ate watermelon in the manor he always shouted "DID YOU GUYS KNOW ___ CAN CRUSH WATERMELONS WITH THEIR THIGHS¿¿¿¿¿ GO ON ___ SHOW THEM!!!!"

might ask you details on how you train/build your thighs just in case...there's always room for self-improvement

next time he sees you he's going to whip out two watermelons and ask you if you can crush both at the same time (cheeky bastard)

luca balsa⚡

mans is just losing his shit at it

"how do you do it??????? how long did you have to build your legs for this??? at what angle does it crush the fastest/easiest???? what technique did you use???" like andrew but with zero self control or fear

so intrigued he'll whip out the nerd glasses and the notepad to study it. bring a few extra watermelons cause once he begins you'll realize it's gonna be a looooong day

i kinda think that he'd be more interested in the physics aspect of it than the crushing itself tbh

after enough research he would try to crush one with his own thighs

...which didn't really go well🥲he's got chopstick legs but we still love him

that absolutely did not discourage him though. he'll find a way to do it himself. somehow. one day.

wu chang☂️

their reactions are quite different

at first they just kinda... side eye each other. not condescendigly tho they just have to clarify they're both seeing the same thing since they didn't expect this when you told them you have a suprise for them

xie is like ☺ "thats... very cute honey!! i'm very proud of you!!!! you've been working very hard!!!!"

no idea how to properly react or process it really but since you seem really happy about it he simply has to share your enthusiasm okay!!! xie the world

fan just smirks. "now crush a pumpkin."

this motherfucker is going to tease you and give you more and more impossible physical challenges just to make you all red in your face and see you angrily give up just crush his head instead at this point

would rather drown himself in that goddamn river again than admit out loud that it's absolutely badass but it becomes obvious after some time. he's not an emotional mastermind after all

antonio paganini🎻

not overwhelmed by it either! hes just chill like dat

he finds it so funny actually - he's grown tired of all the elegant plays and balls that he experienced while playing for royalty so this little peculiar performance of yours put a wide smile on his face

it gave him a good laugh too, not in a mocking way it's just so bizarre and unexpected that he couldn't help but laugh

would joke about it like "i love a partner that can just beat the shit out of me" after seeing it lmao

"you can kill people with that, but personally i wouldn't have an issue with it if it was your thighs in question~" what a fucking flirt GET HIM OUT

if you'd challenge him to do the same he'd just give up after the first two tries... his legs aren't his best asset

he CAN crush a watermelon with his hair though. maybe you should be more careful the next time you try to wriggle out from its grip...

#identity v #idv #idv headcanons #identity v headcanons #idv fanfic #idv imagines #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv scenarios #identity v x you #idv andrew #identity v andrew #andrew kreiss #idv grave keeper #idv william #identity v william #william ellis #idv luca balsa #idv luca #idv antonio #idv wu chang #idv prisoner #idv violinist #idv xie bian #idv fan wujiu #identity v antonio #identity v wu chang #idv forward #wu chang #antonio paganini

[sillyyuserr]

Another mini terukane analysis :P

so we’ve all seen the picture of teru’s hand on akane’s head right? Seen it, loved it, yadayada

but if you actually look into it, this is so cute.

i mean for one, thats his sword hand. From previous panels we’ve seen him use his right hand on his sword. While he is pictured with it in his left, when he actually fights, its in his right (old vs recent)

“what about that being his sword hand” well, if you couldnt tell, theres a literal demon right infront of them, so he must be on high guard right? nope its in his left LMAO

His better/dominant/more skilled hand is in the most gentlest way, comforting akane, rather than fighting the little shit off. Almost saying, he’s more important right now, akane’s comfort is more important than his own safety, reserving his better hand for him, rather than the stupid demon thing

then after he hits it, it shatters to glass, fading away. His face changes to that of a worried expression, and quickly turns around, takes akane by the little of his shirt he has left, and starts dragging him

Clearly doesn’t give him any time to react, seemingly extremely worried ab something. but as the chapter progresses, we see supernaturals fading away such as hanako, and mitsuba. The bells signaling the start of the severance

We can obviously put two and two together and realize teru thought akane was gonna fade away 😭 MANS WAS SO WORRIED

He was happy to leave aoi, defenseless, alone, in a realm he cannot reach, surrounded by countless evil entities, with very little time to save her, while she was clearly extremely unstable, with his only way of knowing if she dissipated or not being a little bell bracelet that he doesn’t even wear

yet he immediately turned around, full on dragged him/gave him ZERO time to get up, rushed him to the clock keepers asap without even time for akane to react or anything. Like gosh dude can you be more obvious.

him being that worried about akane is so interesting to me, because like, why? Shouldnt he hate him for liking his so called “crush” (aoi). Since he’s planning on going back and saving aoi why cant he just get akane when he’s going back for aoi? Why go through the effort? Lets think of a few reasons why

Reason 1. Calling back to when he stopped them from kissing, he mightve realized if he’s alone with her there, they’d sit on the train and bam they’re dead, gone forever.

Reason 2. Maybe he at one point, had the idea of overall just leaving her there. Giving her the bell bracelet as a false sense of hope so he doesn’t seem like a bad person. And if akane’s sent there, he has to get him, and of course they’ll be together there so he’ll have to get aoi aswell. Why he might want to leave aoi? No clue but its an idea that came to mind so i put it down

Reason 3. Maybe he cant do it alone. He’s always been the “i fight alone” type, but when akane’s there he’s never fighting alone. So maybe he doubts his ability to save her by himself, and wants akane by his side throughout the whole thing

Reason 4. Maybe he just cares about him and/or maybe might like him a little more than he should

i wanna write one ab what happened with teru + akane JUST before the severance SO BAD THERES LITERALLY SM I HAVE TO SAY but i lost all motivation and there being too much is both good and bad 😭 (bad as in im too lazy to do it)

#terukane #real #tbhk #aidairo #aoi akane #minamoto teru #analysis

[atarathegreat]

I'm Tired, Love. Takashi Mitsuya.

Draken's death was hitting your boyfriend harder than you'd ever seen anything affect him. He stayed holed up in his office, never answered calls, not even from his sisters. It was unusual. Mitsuya always, at the very least, texted you back. It worried you, so you decided to go and visit him to check in on him.

Mitsuya's office was a brisk walk away from your home, the same home he hadn't returned to for days. You dressed up in some clothes that he had made you, hoping that would at least bring a smile to his face. But there was no such luck. When you walked in Mitsuya was already yelling at his sister, Luna, to leave him alone. "Just get out! I'm a grown man! I can take care of myself!" Mitsuya, who was typically soft spoken, was screaming and throwing things. He wasn't concerned with the impact it had, nor with the way his sister left crying. He wasn't Mitsuya.

Luna stopped for only a second to get a quick, comforting hug from you, "Good luck."

All of you had been trying to get Mitsuya to stop locking himself away, with zero success. He was obstinate, set in finishing the piece he was working on. A piece he had been making for Draken.

"Taka..." Your cautious voice earned an if-looks-could-kill glare. He wasn't in the mood for another lecture, and he made that obvious by the way he ignored you. If it had been a few years earlier, you would've accepted his silence and let him be alone. This was his blood brother who had died, and you couldn't just let him be alone anymore. Mitsuya hadn't shaved nor showered, and his hair was unkempt. There was no way this was him even close to the right state of mind. "Takashi, please." You sat next to him as he kept working on the clothing piece, "Please, you aren't taking care of yourself."

"You expect me to? This needs to be done for his funeral, I made a promise!" Mitsuya turned on you, shoving you away from him. He had promised Mikey that the piece would be done, and Draken could be buried in it, but Mikey wouldn't want Mitsuya to be driving himself into the ground like this. "His funeral is in a month, Taka, and you work fast. It will be done. Mikey doesn't want you to tire yourself out, you know that." You tried to reason with him. But he didn't seem to care.

Once again you were ignored and Mitsuya went back to his work.

"Draken wouldn't want you to work yourself to death over him." You whispered. Mitsuya paused and the atmosphere grew heavy, like an overly stuffed weighted blanket. There wasn't any time for you to process his movements when you were slammed against the floor. "Don't fucking talk like you knew Draken at all! You didn't! So shut the fuck up!" Mitsuya screamed in your face. It was so out of character for your boyfriend to be so...aggressive.

Silence was the only right answer with Mitsuya being like this. So you did just that. You stared up at him, silent and loving as he glared back, beautiful lavender orbs narrowed in anger and mourning with tears starting to glisten in his waterline. "Don't talk about him like you understood him...you didn't fucking understand..." Mitsuya slowly let his arms give out so he was laying on you, "...don't say shit like you know what you're talking about..."

The simple act of him giving out, him laying on you and letting your body be a sense of comfort, was all you needed to know that Mitsuya understood you were correct. The walk home was quiet, but at least he was done fighting you.

Mitsuya stared around the apartment he shared with you as you closed the door. "Let's get you in a shower first, I'll make dinner after." Mitsuya was glad to hear your soft voice after he'd been so rude to you in his office. "Will you remind me to call Luna and apologize?" But even as he asked, he was trying to figure out how to apologize for his behavior that he was pretty sure resulted in you hitting your head a little too hard.

"Of course. I'm sure she understands, though." You started the shower for him, "Just focus on trying to relax right now."

"Shower with me." He trapped you between him and the sink. No doubt, no hesitation. You let him help you undress, "I'm glad you came back home with me."

"Would you have left me alone if I hadn't?"

"Of course."

If he had needed more time to be alone, you would have allowed him that. Sometimes people just needed to fully grieve and accept the things that happened. And he'd just lost the only family that he felt understood him like no one else did.

But you... oh the way you seemed to just get him. It was different. Like you didn't understand him completely, but you didn't need to at the same time. As if he was the perfect mystery. Soft hands washed his hair and body, careful where you knew he was most sensitive. He was a sucker for eye contact, and you granted that for him as you washed behind his ears.

"Turn around, love." Mitsuya whispered, kissing your nose, "Grab hold of that wall for me." Maybe he was disgusting for thinking sex would keep you around after he bounced your head off the ground, but when he saw how easily you listened, how readily you gave yourself to him, he didn't care. "You're so soft, you know that?" Mitsuya's eyes rolled back as he pushed into your hole, "Soft and so easy to get lost in..."

Paper thin walls had you both keeping your voices down, the bathroom sounded like a soft-core porno where both the actors were actually getting into their bit. It was obvious that Mitsuya had checked out of his senses long ago, but this was peak out of his mind. Your velvety walls holding him just as gently as your hands washed his hair nearly caused him to absolutely be gone. "Taka~" You stepped one leg out, spreading wider just for him. "Just feel me, love, don't do anything else." Mitsuya panted, fingers digging in harshly as he tried to be gentle in his movements, "Just feel all of me. Feel all of me like I feel all of you."

Fuck, he loved how firm your cervix was against the head of his cock, as if you were trying to keep him from going as deep as he could. "Feels like fuckin' silk..." Mitsuya rested his head between your shoulder blades, "Sewn together just for me..."

Mitsuya cleaned you up before letting you even think about getting out of the shower, he'd made the mess after all. He only bothered to wrap a towel around his waist as he dried you off, one towel wrapped perfectly around your hair as he made sure the rest of you was as dry as could be. He knew you hated how your clothes felt on damp skin.

"Come here, Taka." You were already getting the razor and shaving cream out. He should've guessed that you were going to do that, but he really didn't want you to go that far out of your way. "I'm okay." Mitsuya smiled, "I'll shave in the morning."

"No you won't." You knew him better than that, and he was stupid for thinking you would let that happen. Mitsuya watched the way your ass and thighs jiggled as you hopped onto the little sink. "Come here." And it was final. You didn't ask twice, hell, you hadn't even asked the first time. Once more, Mitsuya gave in to your orders and stood between your knees so you could get his appearance together.

While you were busy, carefully shaving him, Mitsuya tenderly massaged your breasts. They were soft, like the rest of you. "This soft body...like velvet and silk molded together." He mumbled, grabbing his cock and gently pushing into you again, "I'm sorry, love. I-"

"It's okay, Taka." You were so focused on the task at hand, "Just move slow so I don't accidently cut you, yeah? Just process everything in your own way."

It crossed his mind that he probably was really disgusting for processing his friend's death through your pussy, but at the same time, you spoke so confidently. How was he not supposed to believe you? He kept to agonizingly slow movements, keeping you steady by your hips and staring into your eyes as you focused on where the blade was.

#anime #manga #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya takashi x reader

[n3ptoonz]

mk1 dialogues with the earthrealm guys!

a/n: most of these are pre-made in my notes, i'm choosing the ones that are more broad rather than targeted towards my oc! i hope it's to your guy's liking!

some of these lines are flirtatious

reader being an assassin mentioned a few times

enjoy!

Johnny Cage:

you: you are the last man i would ever court.

johnny cage: sooo i have a chance

johnny cage: i'd be lying if i said i didn't wanna be dominated by a warrior

you: i think i'd rather just kill you instead

you: what does "finish me johnny" even mean?

johnny: ohoho, allow me to demonstrate, sweet thang

johnny: i don't think you realize how seriously i take competition

you: i can guess from how you almost cried when kung lao outsmarted you in poker three times

Kenshi Takahashi:

you: you ever been asked how many fingers was being held up?

kenshi: it seems you haven't met our world class comedian johnny cage

kenshi: you look like you have something to say.

you: i was just wondering how often you wash your blindfold

you: you make that blindfold work, takahashi

kenshi: though welcomed, flattery won't get me to go easy on you.

kenshi: i still can't believe there's billions of other timelines outside of this one.

you: believe it, i had to fight off a combo of you and scorpion, not pretty.

Kung Lao:

kung lao: don't you like...kill people for a living?

you: says the man with a hat that could easily slice through a crowd

kung lao: an assassin huh...you work for general shao?

you: i would rather gauge my eyes out with push pins

kung lao: i can see you staring at my dimples

you: i was actually looking at your pressure points, but whatever helps you sleep at night

you: normally i cheer you on, but im going to take you down this time

kung lao: hah, you are certainly welcome to try

Raiden:

raiden: is it so obvious...?

you: raiden, you literally smile ear to ear at the sound of kitana's name

you: "i am nervous" my ass

raiden: i'm glad you think so highly of me, but i really was!

raiden: loser has to pay the next check at madam bo's

you: i didn't know you had such money in your pockets, champion

you: what's with all the fine men wearing hats around this place?

raiden: i...wow, you've really managed to catch me off guard

Sub-Zero:

bi-han: your flattery is not welcomed here.

you: aw, i was just getting started too

you: you said you think i'm so hot and cool and sexy?!

bi-han: [groans dramatically and tiredly]

bi-han: not surprised you're on the wrong side.

you: i dunno, something about not fucking with an evil sorcerer that could kebab me if i breathed wrong helped me make up my mind

you: so i'm assuming a double date with kuai and harumi is off the table

bi-han: i was considering it until you uttered that traitor's name.

Scorpion:

you: where did "get over here" come from?

kuai: if i told you, i'd have to kill you.

kuai: how would you even like my hair if you've only seen it tied up?

you: i have a very sufficient imagination, kuai liang

you: ouch, that's one nasty scar

kuai: it gives me a story to tell my new clan, should they ever ask.

kuai: don't you dare say it...

you: ..."come here!"

Smoke:

tomas: is it true? you find me handsome?

you: what can i say, men in uniform have my heart

you: if i didn't know any better, i'd think you're flirting with me

tomas: well...uh...i'm not particularly good in this field...

tomas: your bravery knows no bounds, you really flirted with bi-han?!

you: ah...i may have shit my pants a little when he almost froze my head off the other day

you: johnny's right, you'd be great on the big screen

tomas: thats... thats really nice of you to say!

Liu Kang:

liu: before you ask, yes, it is possible you are also a keeper of time in another timeline.

you: now i wanna ask how many people bombarded with that question

you: so, what was i like in the last timeline?

liu: there's not enough time to explain, maybe after this. maybe.

liu: i would heavily advise against trying to court a god

you: what? me? trying to- you speak madness!

you: i have to know...was i styling in the previous timeline or no?

liu: not even i had the time think of things like this as a mortal.

------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this is an experiment post, hopefully this has reach cause i miss posting on here😭

#mk1 #johnny cage #kenshi takahashi #kung lao #sub zero #scorpion #bi han #kuai liang #smoke mk #tomas mk1 #liu kang #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat dialogues #dialogues #n3ptoonz

[cultofsappho]

In honor of AGCD 🤠, a list of my berserk findings in roughly chronological order RE: A RWRB Sequel:

1. When the movie come out, Casey did an AMA on Threads for both Alex, then Henry. In Henry's AMA, they posted this:

Meaning at the very least they'd be open to writing/sharing/creating more for Alex and Henry, if not a direct sequel [more from the AMA: X]

2. Casey also had an interview with Out Magazine in Nov '23 where they were asked if the want to write a sequel and they said "Of course I'd love to! 😉 I don't think i'm allowed to say anything more than that.😊" They're so fucking precious. We all know what 'not allowed to say' means. [twitter video: X]

3. Taylor has had a bunch of interviews recently, mostly as an ambassador to the SAG awards. He's been asked a dozen times about a RWRB sequel and everytime he says something along the lines of "Anything could happen! But I don't know, they don't tell me these things aha! 🤪 Give me a call!" And he's so unbelieveably obvious that his interview clips have already been compared to Andrew Garfield denying having any role in Spider-Man: No Way Home: [tiktok: X]

4. PrimeVideoUK has been bringing up RWRB & Firstprince more on social media recently. It could be for any number of reasons, it's their movie they can market however they feel like. Especially since Nick has a bunch of projects releasing rn (one of which, The Idea Of You is also releasing on Prime this summer), they may want to capitalize on the attention on him. Or, it could be to test RWRB's engagement #s... [tweet: X] [tweet: X] [twitter poll w/a rwrb sweep: X] [tiktok: X] And all the comments on these posts (and more) are begging for a sequel. So, if their social media manager is passing on the message... 👀

5. This is def a reach, so if you don't mind, i'm pulling out the red string for this conspiracy corkboard. But Casey was recently in London, it could have been a trip for literally anything. But, the first movie was filmed (and maybe produced idfk) in London. [insta post: X] they sold the movie rights for RWRB before the book was released, if I'm remembering that right, but maybe they retain rights to sign off on a sequel.

so anyway i was thinking about all those little things adding up in my head and thinking i was on to some kind of conspiracy then Nick goes and does press for Mary & George (which i just started, and is amazing btw) and says this shit:

6. Nick confirms in an interview with HitsRadio that they're talking about a RWRB sequel. Just flat out: "Yeah obv conversations are happening, duh! 😇" energy. God bless him. He says there have been conversations about a sequel. And, they're all on the same page that the script needs to be right and "all the components" need to be right. [X minute 15:50 they bring up the rwrb sequel, but the whole interview is great and you should watch it!]

ANYWAY i'm in a land of delusion, gnawing on the iron bars of my enclosure, etc, but also maybe not bc they're talking about a sequel and now we just need to wait for the greenlight

And (pseudo point #7), it would be a dumb business decision for Prime to not make a sequel. RWRB did way too well for an LGBT product, releasing during a dual actors and writer's strike, with little to no promo and zero press tour. From the RWRB Wikipedia page: "For the first three weeks after its release, it was the top watched film worldwide on the platform and provoked what Prime Video described as "a huge surge" of new subscribers." [X] And subscribers are all these streaming services care about.

I can't wait to reblog this with a screenshot when they inevitably post an offical confirmation for a sequel movie...

#the special intrest popped out here ngl #but im having fun with my red string and frantic gesturing towards social media screenshots #let me have this #rwrb #red white and royal blue #casey mcquiston #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #rwrb sequel

[drdemonprince]

Your blog is like a breath of fresh air. Thank you for all the wonderful thoughts and writing.

That said I actually have a question. I am pro-palestine(it feels stupid to call it that, as if it should even be a debate) and in a very left leaning friend group. But also a very white academic one. You know the type, read Marx, dream of the revolution but continue studying to end up in 9 to 5s instead of doing anything(I am guilty of it too, this isn't meant as insult just a description)

Anyways, as you can imagine they have been extremely hesitant when it comes to having any opinion on Israel or Palestine. That wouldn't be a problem in itself, I know how to start topics with them and get them thinking usually but in this case there is an additional problem. Whenever I try to broach the topic I get shutdown with "Look at all the shit that is going on here, our country is falling into fascism, I just don't have the energy to deal with this conflict. Please don't talk about it because it's triggering". And I have zero clue what to do. Forget getting them to go on protests with me, I can't even speak to them about it and feel really guilty. Its me bringing up a heavily triggering topic after all. It feels wrong to feel guilty though. I know at the end of the day it's not important if I could convince some people to give a fuck but do you have any advice? How to get over this guilt or maybe how to broach a topic with that considered?

My main problem is my fear of losing my friends because I have been ill for some time(as in physically unable to leave the house for more than a short grocery run, or my visits to the doctor, because of pain and my friends are what keep me alive) and losing their help would be not good.

My exact situation aside, do you have advice for someone to broach a topic that others describe as unpleasant/triggering without causing a huge rift in the group?

Thanks for your kind words and your question, Anon.

I think your friends suck and that you can do better than them. I think you should get out there and find yourself some Black, brown, working class anarchist and anarco-communist buds (and Marxists who show up for others in a real, observable way in their regular lives) as soon as you can.

I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for. But I have seen this kind of entirely theoretical, jaded, self-superior, passive, white well-off Marxist type a thousand times before, and I've failed to ever see them show up for other people in any kind of consistent way.

And it's not only the people systematically crushed beneath the wheel of Capital half a world away that they neglect, either. They tend to be pretty shitty friends and neighbors when it all comes down to it on the micro-level, too. Their smug over-intellectualism and dispassionate cynicism allows them to justify remaining disengaged and going along with the status quo in a way that ultimately serves capitalism very well.

There is a theoretical basis to this selfishness and disengagement, I will admit. This type of overly academic Marxist typically believes that the fall of capitalism is inevitable, that humans lack free will and only behave as befits their obvious material interests, and that there is nothing that one can do on a personal level to hasten any kind of Revolution, so there is nothing left to do but wait, and take care of oneself, and allow the future to unfold.

This is a perspective explicitly advocated for by people like the Chapo Trap House guys, and among academic white boy communist types, it is incredibly popular. I remember hearing Matt Christman saying on his vlogs that he essentially does not believe the conditions allowing capitalism to fall will happen in his lifetime, and so his only responsibility is to just take care of himself and his family and be comfortable.

Ultimately, these types wind up sounding and behaving exactly like capitalist economists who believe that everyone is rationally motivated only by increasing their personal wealth. They are disengaged from politics except insofar as they like to make snide jokes about current events for their own entertainment and enrichment, and they don't see themselves as having the capacity to exert a positive influence on the world, nor any obligation to. It's bleak shit.

At the same time, if your friends are in the circles that tend to read and listen to and promote this kind of stuff, surely they have also been exposed to popular leftist voices advocating loudly for the Palestinian cause. And yet still they have done nothing.

Hasan Piker has been vocally pro-Palestine his entire career, and his Twitch channel has been providing near constant coverage of Palestinian issues since October 7th. True Anon has had multiple episodes on the Israel Lobby, the suppression of pro-Palestinian activism and journalistic coverage, and has aired interviews with Normal Finkelstein. Palestine is the central topic of nearly every Trillbilly Worker's Party podcast for months now.

These are widely popular voices among the very types of Marxists that you say that your friends are, and many of these creators are close friends with the Chapo Trap House guys, whom your friends almost certainly are taking notes from. So it's nearly impossible to imagine that your friends have not encountered the near constant coverage of the struggle of the Palestinians that all the rest of us have. And yet still your friends do nothing. Still they do not care, and dismiss you when you share with them how despairing you feel.

Your friends have turned off an essential part of their hearts, I think. And I don't mean they lack empathy. Not having empathy is fine, I don't have it either -- but I make the conscious choice to care about the Palestinian cause and to advocate for it, because it aligns with my values. I give a fuck. My giving a fuck is conveyed through my actions, not through what I think about or how I feel.

Your friends are showing no interest in learning more about this genocide or doing anything about it. Perhaps some degree of ignorance or hesitancy could be justified early on because the Israeli apologist propaganda is so far reaching, but we're well past the point of that explaining away inaction by now. Over 100,000 people are missing and over 30,000 are known to be dead and little girls are being shot by snipers while seeking medical care while babies are left to rot in their NICU beds.

Your friends know this. Maybe not everyone in the world does, but if they're so well-read about leftist issues, your friends do. And they have chosen, for some reason, not to care. They've disconnected from the pain the Palestinian people are in, unplugged from the steady stream of upsetting information, sought comfort in a politics that says all too conveniently that nothing they do matters, and when you try to share with them how much anguish you are feeling about the mass deaths happening throughout the world, they're dismissive toward you.

Your friends suck. If acknowleding reality and confronting the horrors of a genocide is too tough and triggering for them, then a lot of horrors here at home will be too much for their fragile egos too. There are so many leftists you could be surrounding yourself with instead, I promise -- people who give back to their communities, people who are in the streets doing the tough work of feeding and housing and fighting for the release from prison of people every day, instead of using those local struggles as a shield for their inaction on a more global scale.

Fuck these people for real. This is a big glaring red flag and it will be relevant to your friendship and your life. One day many of them might see you and your problems and your human needs as too much of a distraction from their dry academic jerk-off sessions too. I've seen it a dozen times. Sorry to be so blunt. But you seem like a person who is putting their attention in all the right places and I don't want to see that compassion squandered on people who won't ever show you the same consideration. You can find people who actually walk the walk, they're everywhere.