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rustedhearts · 1 year

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everytime (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: despite your break up two months ago, you can't seem to stay away from each other. when you need him, he's there. but how long can this really last?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡

tags: steve + reader are college age (early-mid 20s), alcohol consumption, angst, hurt/comfort-ish, reader may have a bit of a substance abuse issue (it's heavily implied), accidental casual dominance? (steve really just takes care of her)

"every time i try to fly i fall without my wings, i feel so small. i guess i need you, baby. and every time i see you in my dreams, i see your face, it's haunting me. i guess i need you, baby."

—everytime, britney spears (ethel cain cover)

hawkins, indiana 1999

For your first date, Steve took you to Harvey's: a little retro milkshake diner off the interstate with the soggiest salted French fries and the smoothest strawberry shake you'd ever had in your life. He kissed you against the tin wall, right beneath the neon crimson exit sign. He held your hand on the drive home and kissed your knuckles at stop signs. You're so fuckin' beautiful, he told you on your porch.

That was senior year, three years ago.

For your last date, Steve took you to Enzo's: the fanciest Italian restaurant in town with bitter sauce and crunchy breadsticks. He didn't kiss you on the way there, nor the way back. You barely looked each other in the eye during the entire meal. When the check came, Steve slid it into his lap and turned to your hand, limp and empty on the tabletop. This isn't working anymore...is it? he asked you.

That was two months ago.

Your relationship had been on the outs for a while. All you did was fight, and not the fun, witty banter you used to have. The arguments turned explosive: doors slamming, engines revving, broken picture frames. Steve accused you of flirting with every man you came in contact with. You accused him of insecurity and projection. The pair of you made a scene no matter where you went, and soon it became exhausting just to be in your presence. You were bitter and bitchy, no longer the sweet girl he loved to make giggle. You became resentful and mean, and he became passive and silent.

It wasn't working, and it hadn't been working for a while.

You moved out of the apartment and in with a friend from college, taking the tiny spare bedroom she'd been using for storage. Most of it lived in the closet now, but the space was yours. The move was difficult—you'd lived with Steve since the day after high school graduation. You were gonna get married. You were gonna move west to California when you were done with school and abandon Indiana together. The pair of you had dreams bigger than this town, and now that you had gone your separate ways, they felt out of reach.

But you hadn't really gone your separate ways, had you?

You spoke on the phone a few nights a week, murmuring in the darkness about your days. Though it always went unspoken, I miss you bled through every phone call. When he inevitably sighed, and the receiver crackled with his shuffling, you had to bite way tears. I should get to bed, he'd say, and he'd say it like an apology. You soaked your pillow, wishing you'd told him you loved him a little more than you did when you had the chance.

Because you always loved Steve, and you were certain you always would. Nobody had ever been so kind to you, so sweet and understanding. Steve saw you for who you were, and never wanted you to change. But you pulled away from him, pushed him out when he tried to get in. Nobody bothered to stick around as long as Steve did. And that scared you.

Now here you were, crying yourself to sleep.

♡ ♡

One thing you didn't lose in the breakup were your friends. They refused to pick sides, insisting that there was no need to choose one or the other when they could easily split their time. More often than not, you found yourself waving to Steve through Eddie Munson's apartment window as he got into his car and drove off—like switching shifts, alternating between your visits and Steve's. He'd wave back, a stiff palm in the air directed your way in the windshield, paired with a tight-lipped, solemn smile.

Tonight, Eddie was hosting a party with his girlfriend, Gwen, and you knew the crowd would be absent of Steve. The only reason Steve ever attended parties was because you wanted to. He much preferred staying in and reading, or going to dinner just the two of you. He hated crowds and loud music, the 'sloppy drunks and fuzzy potheads' as he called them. He hated Eddie's other friends, and he hated you around them. You were always a little too eager to guzzle alcohol and puff a joint—it was the topic of many of your arguments.

He wasn't wrong, and that's what pissed you off the most.

Because here you were, on your third rum and coke of the night, sipping from a tiny red straw and chewing on the plastic. Eyes hazy and rimmed pink, cheeks flushed with warmth, sweating down your spine. The apartment was crammed with people like sardines in a tin can, and you stumbled through them on your way to the kitchen for some sort of snack. There, you found Robin and Gwen leaning against the sink, eyeing you pitifully as you fell between them with a sigh.

"What's up, girls?" You were out of breath and slurring your words.

They shared a look over your head, cringing. "How many have you had, babe?" Gwen asked.

You hummed, rubbing at your eye and smearing glitter across your cheek. "Uh...like two? Three. Definitely three."

"Three and?"

You huffed, tipping your head back exasperatedly. "Three and, like, one fucking hit. How many have you had, Robin?"

Your tone was mean. It always got a little sharp and cruel when you had too much to drink. The words always came flying out before you could swallow them, and you always woke the next morning with a massive headache and a ball of regret the size of Canada sitting in your throat. You felt it, a pang of guilt stabbing your gut, when you saw your friends' faces fall. You felt it, wringing your heart like a wet washcloth when Steve would stomp off.

"Hey. We're just looking out for you," Gwen interjected, brows furrowing at your tone.

Your cheeks flamed, teeth digging into the fleshy interior of your cheek to stop the tears of humiliation from springing forth. You turned around shakily and took a warm cheese cube from the platter on the counter.

"I know. But I'm...I'm fine. Okay?"

The girls sighed, and Eddie came shuffling into the kitchen with a beer and a cigarette in hand. He wrapped an inked arm around Gwen's neck, pulling her in by the crook of his elbow to plant a loud kiss on the top of her head. She fit into his side and nuzzled his neck, smiling in greeting. You swallowed, throat coated with thick warning. You were going to cry, and you sure as fuck weren't gonna do it here.

"Hey, what's up, scholar?" Eddie asked you, smacking your arm playfully.

You refused to turn around, knowing if you did the whole kitchen would see your glossy eyes and wobbling lip. But this just made you mean again, and as you plucked more cheese from the counter and poked at limp peppers, you pulled in on yourself. Eddie turned to his girlfriend and Robin, who shook their heads dejectedly.

"You okay, honey?" Robin reached out to rub your arm, and you curled away to wave her off, keeping your face angled toward the floor.

"I'm fine. I just...I'm gonna...go wash my hands."

You hurried off, refusing to meet their eyes as you went. You staggered through a sea of people, dizzy and foggy-headed, struggling to breathe. Gwen and Eddie's bedroom was the last door on the left, and you burst into the room with an urgent gasp of breath. The door slammed after you, and you had half a mind to sink onto the floor and lie there for the rest of the night until you stopped crying—but then you saw the phone.

You didn't even think about it.

You knew the number by heart. You dialed the numbers like second nature, lifting the phone to your ear to cradle the cool plastic with shaky fingers. You sniffled to clear the snot, swiping at the tears dripping down your cheeks. The dial tone droned. Once, twice, three times. You sank onto the floor against the bed, leaning your head back against the soft mattress.

"Hello?"

You squeezed your eyes shut. "Stevie?"

It was quiet a moment, and then another soft sigh. "Honey...why are you callin' me? Is everything okay?"

His voice, so soft and smooth like it always was, felt like a security blanket. It wrapped around you, tendrils curling around your bones to hold them tight like he used to. And you wanted nothing more than to hear that voice murmuring in your ear, with his arms around you to keep you safe. Everything's been so off-kilter since he left. Since you left each other. Every day feels like finding your footing all over again. Naked and bare, you weren't sure which direction to go in unless he was there to guide you.

And as selfish as it sounded, you wanted him to guide you again.

"N-No. I'm so fucked up, Steve—it's so fucked up."

Shuffling crackled through the receiver, and you imagined Steve sitting up in bed and rubbing his tousled hair. He sounded tired when he spoke again. "You been drinkin', baby?"

You nodded, sniffling nosily. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Stevie."

Keys tinkled like wind chimes in the distance of the other line. "Where are you, honey? Hmm? Do you know?"

You sighed, snot rattling in the back of your throat. Your hand fell to the itchy carpet beneath your legs, rubbing your palm to scratch it. You hated how this sounded like a routine. Like he expected you to call, all fucked out and lost. You wished you were better for him.

"M' at Eddie's."

"Oh, okay," Steve sounded a little relieved. "Stay where you are, alright?" He was coming to you.

"Steve...you don't have t' come, m' sorry. M' sorry, just...I'm all over the place."

"I'll be right there."

The line clicked, and you carefully placed the phone back in the cradle. The tears started up again, full force and breathless. You gasped for air and hiccuped like an infant as you clawed your way onto the bed, sprawling out on your back. You were grateful the room was dark. You didn't want to see yourself like this.

You listened the songs change while you waited to calm your cries. The room hadn't stopped spinning, and your throat felt so tight. Your chest hurt with a hollow ache that hadn't gone away since your last night at Steve's. You slept in the same bed, facing opposite walls. In the morning, you slid your key across the table and kissed his cheek. He carried your boxes to the car and stroked your cheek with his thumb against the passenger door. He smelled like hazelnut coffee and sleep.

Four songs passed before you heard familiar voices murmuring outside the door.

"Jesus, Steve, you can't keep coming to rescue her," Robin huffed.

You wiped your cheeks, lips downturning. Tough love really hurt when it came from your closest friends.

"Mind your business."

"This is my business. I care about both of you, and this is just...this is unhealthy!"

"Get out of my fucking way, Buckley."

The door handle jiggled, and you turned your head to watch it open. A streak of yellow light sliced through the blue darkness of the room.

"You don't know shit," Steve muttered, and then he was standing in the room.

The thump of music became muffled by the door once more, light clamped off to return the pair of you to darkness. A strip of moonlight beaconed over his face as he stepped closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans. You could hear his keys jingling as he fidgeted. He tipped his head at the sight of you lying there.

"Hi," you whispered. It was the sweetest you’d sounded in months.

Steve swallowed, trying not to rush over and kiss you. He had to fight the urge each time he saw you, even in passing. It felt wrong to part ways without a kiss goodbye. Even when you fought, you always stopped to kiss each other before going to work or heading to bed. It became one of Steve's favorite habits. He felt empty without it.

"Hi," he murmured back.

You sniffled, carefully turning your head away to look toward the ceiling. You were disappointed to see it was still swirling. You suddenly wished you were sober. Maybe he'd see you differently.

"You didn't have to come."

Steve shrugged in your periphery. He was wearing one of those collared polos that you loved. Three buttons always left undone, tight white t-shirt underneath. You wanted him closer. You wanted to smell his cologne again.

"But I'm here."

You shuffled to your elbows, groaning softly. Something lurched in your stomach, coiled tight in your belly. You were gonna be sick, but you didn't want to be in front of Steve. Pushing off weakly on your palms, you sat upright and wiped your cheek, smearing more makeup in the process.

Steve inched closer, waiting for his cue to step in. It came when you stood and wavered on the carpet, reaching for a steady surface.

"Alright, easy, honey." He swooped in, arm wrapped around your waist to guide you toward the bathroom door.

He pushed it open and flicked on the light, propping you against the sink like a Barbie doll. With an open palm on your stomach, he kept you upright as he rummaged through the drawers for a rag. You played with the brown leather band of his watch as he ran the rag under warm water, a pout embedded on your mouth.

"Wanna hop up there f' me?"

You braced the cold counter with the heel of your palms, lifting on wobbly arms to sit on top. "Atta girl," Steve mumbled under his breath, and even in your bleary state you flushed with warmth.

Resting against the mirror, you watched Steve lather powder white soap onto the wet cloth until it bubbled, bringing two fingers under the pink cotton to wipe against your cheek. His eyes were steady on his own ministrations, watching his hand clean away the smeared mascara and tears.

Your eyes, however, could only focus on him. His big sad eyes, swampy green and brown flanked by long, curled lashes. The mocha-colored freckles grazing his cheeks and collarbone, sprinkled along his neck. The pout on his plump pink lips, taken between his teeth in concentration.

When he switched the cloth to the other cheek, you exhaled shakily and caught his wrist. His eyes flicked to yours, finally catching your gaze. He blinked, another one of those toothless, tight-lipped smiles breezing over his lips. It was painted with pity.

Wrapping both hands around the warmth of his forearm, you tipped your cheek into his palm and the soapy, damp cloth encompassed around it. Steve sighed, chest deflating beneath that handsome polo. In the fluorescents of the bathroom, he looked prettier than ever. You were smaller than he'd ever seen you, crumpled and disheveled.

"You drank too much again." He said it the way he orders a cheeseburger in the drive-thru: casual, predictable, cool. He expected this.

That's what always hurt you most.

Your mouth opened to utter a reply, but all that came was a shuttered breath. Your lip downturned, jutting out in a petulant pout that made him ache. He swiped two fingers, cool from the cloth and scented of clean soap, across your temple and into your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

"Just felt sad," you admitted lowly, rubbing your hand along his arm.

Steve placed his hand against your other cheek, suddenly cradling your face. His thumb made circles in your sticky skin—firm, tender, just the way you used to like it. Your eyes fluttered closed, head falling deeper into his hold.

"About what?" His voice was so soft, so small. The rest of the world fell away outside of his tiny, outdated bathroom.

You scoffed humorlessly, head shaking. You opened your eyes again as you fiddled with his watch. "You know what."

Steve's gaze rolled over your face, swollen and pink, stuck in a defeated frown. He wondered if you'd remember this in the morning, or if it'd be another night you fell fuzzy on.

"Yeah...yeah, I know, baby."

You huffed, breath hot and laced with liquor across his arm. "M' sorry. M' sorry I made you come out here, and...m' just...m' just sorry—"

"—hey, come on—"

"—no, Steve...m' a mess. Everyone's right about me."

The pads of Steve's fingers scratched at your scalp, and you hated how easily you purred like a kitten at his touch. Your neck craned, and if it weren't for his hand holding your head up, you might've lied down right there on the sink. Inebriation had its claws in you deep.

"Hey," he cooed, urging your head up with his wash-clothed hand. "Don't talk like that."

When you did nothing but continue to frown and sniffle, Steve sighed and steadied you upright. "C'mon, lemme finish cleanin' you up."

Your shoulders slumped, head bobbing gently. "Okay."

Steve chuckled, rubbing your other cheek with the soapy cloth. "Okay."

You were pliant to his pulling and prodding, allowing him to clean you without complaint. He tucked your hair behind your ears when your face was washed, and filled a Dixie cup with cool water for you to drink. He rested his hands on your bare knees as he watched you gulp it down, patting them when you were done.

"All done?"

You nodded, handing him the paper cup. He tossed it in the trash bin, nudging your chin up with two fingers. "Hey. You with me?"

You nodded again. "Mhm."

"I'm gonna take you home, okay?"

You grasped his hand, pushing your fingers through his. "Okay."

He helped you off the counter, but he didn't drop your hand. He held it as he guided you through the dark bedroom and into the hall, using it to pull you into his side to fit through the crowd. When you made it to the kitchen, you were stopped by your friends, and you pressed your head to Steve's firm back as their voices melded into a yell.

"Oh, fuck off, Munson, seriously, this is none of your business. Last I checked, our relationship only involved the two of us."

"What relationship? You broke up—weeks ago, by the way, in case you forgot—"

"—I didn't forget," Steve hissed, side-stepping and pulling you with him to avoid Eddie. "And for the last time, it’s none of your business.”

You peered back at the group of your friends huddled near the sink as Steve steered you toward the back door. You knew they were disappointed—you could see it in their empty eyes and pursed lips. You could see it in the way Gwen had to rub Eddie’s arm to calm him down. Because the two of you were making a mistake, and you’d never move on if you kept crawling back to each other every chance you got.

But maybe you didn’t want to move on, and maybe Steve didn’t either.

Steve took you home that night, and sat you on the end of the bed. He pulled your dress down your legs and replaced it with a big t-shirt: sunshine yellow, drenched in Steve. He tucked you under the blankets and kissed your head. And then he crawled in beside you, and held you the whole night.

He took you home, where you belonged: with him. And he didn’t know if you’d wake the next morning wondering where you were, or happy to see him nuzzled in your neck, but Steve was willing to roll the dice. For now, he could pretend this was how it always was, and that you never left.

#rolly!#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #joe keery #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #king steve #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve the hair harrington #joe keery fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfiction

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queenofthedisneyverse · 3 months

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Technology from 1870-1899 (For Encanto fic writers)

So, A mutual of mine @miracles-and-butterfliess pointed out that everyone (including me) tends to forget that Encanto was literally made when the triplets were born. Which is literally 1900 or 1901. Regardless, it was the very beginning of the 19th century so let me tell you about the technology/things they would/wouldn’t have. (And please keep in mind that most of these may or may not have been imported into Colombia yet.)

1870 - 1879

1872—A.M. Ward creates the first mail-order catalog. NO

1873—Joseph Glidden invented barbed wire. NO

1876—Alexander Graham Bell patents the telephone. NO

1876—Nicolaus August Otto invents the first practical four-stroke internal combustion engine. NO

1876—Melville Bissell patents the carpet sweeper. NO?

1878—Thomas Edison invents the cylinder phonograph (known then as the tin foil phonograph). MAYBE

1878—Eadweard Muybridge invents moving pictures. NO?

1878—Sir Joseph Wilson Swan invents the prototype for a practical electric lightbulb. YES?

1879—Thomas Edison invented the first commercially viable incandescent electric light bulb. NO?

1880 - 1889

1880—The British Perforated Paper Company debuts toilet paper. YES

1880—English inventor John Milne creates the modern seismograph. NO

1881—David Houston patents camera film in roll format. NO?

1884—Lewis Edson Waterman invents the first practical fountain pen. YES

1884—L. A. Thompson built and opened the first roller coaster in the United States at a site on Coney Island, New York. NO

1884—James Ritty invents a functional mechanical cash register. YES?

1884—Charles Parson patents the steam turbine. NO

1885—Karl Benz invented the first practical automobile powered by an internal-combustion engine. NO (even before Encanto, Alma’s town looked rural so I doubt the automobile reached them yet.)

1885—Gottlieb Daimler invented the first gas-engine motorcycle. NO

1886—John Pemberton introduces Coca-Cola. NO

1886—Gottlieb Daimler designs and builds the world's first four-wheeled automobile. NO

1887—Heinrich Hertz invents radar. NO

1887—Emile Berliner invented the gramophone. YES

1887—F.E. Muller and Adolph Fick invented the first wearable contact lenses. NO

1888—Nikola Tesla invents the alternating current motor and transformer. NO

1890 - 1899

1891—Jesse W. Reno invents the escalator. NO

1892—Rudolf Diesel invents the diesel-fueled internal combustion engine, which he patents six years later. NO

1892—Sir James Dewar invents the Dewar vacuum flask. NO

1893—W.L. Judson invents the zipper. NO (zippers didn’t become popular globally until a little bit later; buttons, ribbons/laces and whatever else were still the norm/in fashion for fastening and tying (which is still the case in some places today)

1895—Brothers Auguste and Louis Lumière invent a portable motion-picture camera that doubles as a film-processing unit and projector. The invention is called the Cinematographe and using it, the Lumières project the motion picture for an audience. NO?

1899—J.S. Thurman patents the motor-driven vacuum cleaner. NO (if you're running from being killed, the last thing you're going to bring is a vacuum cleaner)

I remember a post listing the sort of jobs there would be in Encanto but I forgot so I’ll just list the ones I know (let me know if I need to add anything.):

Seamstress/tailor

Embellisher

Field worker

Teacher (of any kind; music, dance, art, etc)

Woodworker - wood carver

Toy maker

Construction worker

Joining a Local band/ Orchestra - being apart of a choir

Carpenter

Metal worker

Jeweler (though I’m not sure if Jewelery of the diamond/gem kind is common in Encanto)

bladesmith/ knifemaker

Inventor? (Inventors should exist in Encanto by now…just one other genius besides Mirabel?)

I know some of these are very obvious but I’m just giving people options okay?

@miracles-and-butterflies you seem to know a lot more about this kind of stuff so if you have anything to add/take away or me to fix please let me know. I tried to search up “When was X invention imported into Colombia” and literally nothing of use comes up.

#camilo madrigal #bruno madrigal #mirabel madrigal #dolores madrigal #antonio madrigal #isabela madrigal #pepa madrigal #encanto 2021 #encanto au #encanto fanfic

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youthereader · 8 months

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Near Zero part 4.

PAIRING: cillian murphy as j. robert oppenheimer x fem!reader

SUMMARY: 2k words. Brought on as part of the Manhattan Project, your old physics professor sees you in a new light.

RATING: E; mentions of smut, infidelity, drinking, period-typical sexism

A/N: Although based on real life characters, this is J. Robert Oppenheimer as played by Cillian Murphy, a fictional character, and does not intend to be accurate. This is merely for entertainment. Once again, I owe @indulgence-be-thy-name my life. My brain just isn't co-operative at the best of times and she's the best. This is a bit of a filler chapter but I hope you like it anyway! 🖤

masterlist

“Kitty would like you to come for dinner.”

You glance up from your paper, brows hiking as he leans over you, his voice soft. You recall his seminars at that same volume. He never gave the same lecture twice, so more fool anyone that didn’t understand the concepts Oppie spoke of.

Your lips part. “Oh.”

You’ve never spoken to Kitty Oppenheimer. You saw her as recently as yesterday when you walked to get milk from the store in the center of town. She was in the street, laughing with one of the wives of a fellow physicist. You didn’t know she knew who you were.

“We’re having a group over tomorrow night,” he adds. “We’ll have an awful lot of fun.”

Someone calls for him and you use the moment to gather your thoughts, to think of an excuse. As he returns to your side, you whisper:

“Robert.”

You began to call him by his first name a week ago, after you slept together for the first time. You were way past calling him ‘Dr. Oppenheimer’, and you called him ‘Oppie’ now in front of others. If anyone noticed, they haven’t let on, and if they were to ask why the change, you’re sure you’d tell a half-truth – you were closer to him now than your days at Berkeley. You were on equal footing, in a way. You did not, however, moan ‘Oppie’ when he pleasured you with either hands, cock, or tongue.

“She doesn’t know,” he whispers back, as if reading your mind.

The look he gives you, along with the accompanying pat on your shoulder, tells you he doesn’t believe you’re walking into trap. You nod, and you part ways once more.

You’ve slept with him a few times since the first night. All within the T building, all under the cover of darkness. You wish you could sneak him into your house but it would be noticed. He already walked you home more than once in full view of the street.

A guard or two would know you and Robert leave together occasionally, but that isn’t unusual. He is often with other people because of the nature of his position.

You haven’t behaved any differently, thus raising suspicions. You don’t feel any guilt. Perhaps that part of you doesn’t exist, at least not when it concerns him. It would be more of a headache that a morality issue if Kitty were to confront you about it; from what you’ve heard, she’s a nightmare to deal with when she makes something or someone her mission.

You arrive the next evening at the Oppenheimer residence, flashing your pass at the guards at the picket fence. You’re let through with a curt nod, feeling your nerves intensify when you hear the laughter coming from within the house.

You’re late, having delayed getting ready. You decided to dress well, but not ostentatiously. You wear your best dress, having not worn it since arriving in Los Alamos. You notice a mark on your shoe as you walk towards the front door, pausing to buff it away with your free hand. Your other arm carries a cake tin your mother gifted you – and until tonight, you never had a use for it.

You knock on the front door and wait a minute before it opens, revealing Robert, sans porkpie hat. He smiles slowly, blue eyes sparkling with outright delight.

“Hello,” he murmurs, and kisses you on the lips, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Hi,” you whisper, and glance over his shoulder.

You’re aware of his eyes still on you, taking you in. Standing there on his front doorstep, you know it’s perhaps the only time you’ll have alone with him all evening.

“I’m very happy to see you, darling,” he says.

“Is it her?” someone calls, and you recognize it as Kitty, your heart leaping.

Robert leads you in, shutting the door behind you. Kitty appears, eyes widening, her cigarette in her mouth. She takes it out, exhaling as she comes toward you. She stares at the cake tin, coming in to kiss you as Europeans do, one-two, her hands on your shoulders.

“You’re adorable, you brought cake!”

“I thought chocolate would be a safe choice,” you murmur, feeling your cheeks flush.

She plucks the cake from you and spins around, forcing you to follow her down the hall with Robert behind you. He reaches out and squeezes the tip of your fingers before letting go, your stomach flipping.

“We’re in the den…”

You walk in to see a group of five other couples. All the men you know, but the wives are part of Kitty’s club that meet for drinks almost daily. Kitty announces you with a flourish of her manicured hand, and you raise a hand to wave an awkward hello to the several pairs of eyes set upon you.

You shake hands, kiss some cheeks and then are ushered by Kitty into the kitchen where she sets the cake on a plate, examining it.

“Dessert done. Good for us,” she says, and she glances over to Robert whose back is to you both. “Where are those martinis, dear?”

“Almost done,” he replies. “Very, very soon.”

“Hmm. Not nearly soon enough,” Kitty says. She gives you a playful wink.

Robert turns, two martinis in hand, giving one to his wife. She takes a sip, licking her lips.

“Thank God.”

He hands you the other, and you follow suit, eyes meeting his when the alcohol reaches your tongue. There must be a whisper of vermouth.

“He will get you drunk,” Kitty says, and she takes off again, expecting you to follow her.

You sit on either side of two scientists from the experimental physicists, your ankles together as you nurse your drink. Kitty talks the most and possibly drinks the most, Robert plying everyone with as much alcohol as possible as the night goes on. Dinner is served haphazardly by Kitty, but she’s not a sloppy drinker. She’s surprisingly sharp, and a great cook from what you can discern. A beef ragu helps slow the alcohol, at least for a time, before the crowd gets rowdier.

Robert doesn’t raise his voice, ever. He drinks steadily, thoroughly, throughout the night, but doesn’t guzzle it down. He barely eats. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat a full meal in all the years you’ve known him. He chain smokes, lighting his guests’ cigarettes whenever able.

At one point, little Peter Oppenheimer begins to cry from his bedroom and Kitty groans, rising from her chair.

“Better deal with the little devil,” she says, slipping out.

Curiosity gets the better of you and you follow her out. You blame the martinis, and the fact that you’ve never seen Robert’s child up-close. Kitty gives you a little smile and rolls her eyes, leaving the door to the nursery partly shut as she goes to the crib.

Peter is sat up, howling, and you watch as he’s lifted out, Kitty’s hand patting his back as she shushes him. You sip on your drink, just as Kitty asks:

“So why don’t you have a husband?”

You choke, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, you’re very attractive. And obviously you’re brilliant if Robert wanted you for the making of the gadget…”

Peter distracts her with another cry into her shoulder and she begins to rock him, humming. It takes another couple minutes for him to fall silent, and only then can you make out his face properly. He resembles Robert, his hair a mass of dark curls. His tear-streaked cheeks are round and rosy in the half-light, his eyelashes long against them as he snuffles. When his mouth closes, you see his perfect Cupid’s bow and dimpled chin.

“He’s beautiful,” you murmur, and Kitty nods absently.

“He gives me a headache,” she whispers. “But he’s asleep now.”

She places him down again and takes you by the elbow, whispering:

“Let’s get out of here before he starts up again.”

Kitty doesn’t seem the maternal type, but neither are you. What makes it sad to you is the lack of pride she seems to exhibit. There’s no space for Peter tonight, no swapping of stories about children. You return to the den and sink back into your chair, eyes meeting Robert’s across the way. He’s nodding politely along to a story, cigarette dangling.

“We were discussing our female genius’s lack of spouse,” Kitty announces, a little louder than you’d like.

Your face flushes and everyone turns their attention to her and then you, your drink by your lips again as if to shield yourself.

“Do we require a bachelor?” one of the wives says, leaning forward, resting her chin in her hand.

Kitty nods, sitting down. Her drink was refilled while you were with Peter. She takes a gulp.

“There’s Nielsen.”

“He’s that chemist?” another wife says. “How is his English?”

“He’s an Oakie,” one of the men chuckles. “And a bore.”

“Well, what would you suggest, Jerry?” Kitty throws back. “We’re all ears-”

“Actually, I don’t want one,” you blurt.

Everyone looks at you, including Robert, who takes out his cigarette and exhales. Elizabeth, the brunette whose husband is to your right, leans over to speak.

“You don’t want a date?”

“She means she doesn’t want a husband,” Kitty says, and she smirks, taking a drink.

You swallow, sure that it’s the alcohol loosening your tongue. “Yes. I mean, I don’t want a husband.”

“Is it… you don’t like men?” Elizabeth asks.

Your face is on fire. “I like men. I like… I like work.”

“You’ll change your mind,” another male visitor says, and you see Robert get up in your peripheral vision. “When the war is over.”

“Maybe,” you lie.

If you sound too certain, you’ll seem even stranger to these people than you already do. You’re the only one that came alone, and you’re possibly the youngest by several years, too. That could be your advantage; it might be dismissed as youthful naivete. You can’t let on that you decided as a little girl that marriage had no appeal.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to marry a scientist,” Robert says, taking your glass from you.

“A football player?” someone suggests, and there’s an eruption of laughter.

After the subject changes, there’s a shift in the atmosphere. You feel less self-conscious. Perhaps you’re tipsy, but it’s more likely the probing into your personal life in front of strangers that left you feeling less tense. It seems the worst of it is over by the time Robert returns to you with a new drink.

He takes the seat beside you, the cake having been served with some ice cream Kitty prepared earlier. Wives and husbands mingle as you feel a companionable silence settle between you and the director.

You light his cigarette for once, sharing the flame before you snap your lighter shut, inhaling.

“Did you meet Peter?” he murmurs, after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you reply, and you exchange a proper look. His head tilts towards you ever so slightly.

“He’s very strong. Quite the grip on him.”

“He’s very handsome,” you reply, exhaling with a small smile. “And you have a lovely home.”

Although it’s what the government built for him, and there’s less personality here than there would be in his ranch or his real home, it feels good to be there, in whatever sense.

Or maybe you’re drunk. Either way, you’re glad you came.

Kitty promises to see you again soon. One of the other couples offer to walk you home and you oblige. For the first time that night, you long for things to be different, that Robert was walking you back. You would hold his hand, lift his knuckles to your lips to kiss them.

You are very, very drunk, you realize, as you shut your front door behind you. You lean against it, sighing.

The next morning, hungover and searching for a reason to ever consider drinking again, you open your door and nearly trip over the cake tin left there overnight. You stoop to pick it up, hearing something inside it.

You turn back, opening it to peer inside. Some crumbs from last night surround a small envelope you lift from the tin, moving back inside to tear it open.

Darling,

You were wonderful last night. Nevertheless, we need to get away.

Come with me to Santa Fe.

Thank you again for reading! Let me know if you're liking this so far. I have no idea how long I intend to make this story but any feedback will help me gauge how interested you are for more. Likes and reblogs are therefore encouraged! 🖤

#oppenheimer x y/n #j robert oppenheimer #oppenheimer x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #near zero #fem reader

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pinky-ghostface · 4 months

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Two Valentines Day Surprises

summary: It's Valentine's Day, a very important holiday to Alphonse and his Boo, but Seth is across the country and can't get back to them in time. Alphonse wants to cheer the reader up with a sweet surprise, but neither of them are prepared for the true surprise meant for them.

content/warnings: nsfw, femdom, pegging, strap on blowjob, deepthroating, nipple play, mmf threesome, hair pulling, p in v sex, afab gn!reader (no mention of boobs but they are referred to once as "a cruel mistress")

word count: 4.2k

wanna read it on ao3?:

A/N: I actually began this a couple years ago but finally decided to finish it😁 and things have def changed in the canon since I started. I think I thought after the Jessie/Derek situation Seth wouldn't want to settle down just yet in the little town he wasn't wanted in so long ago and would want to explore his freedom after prison and like, go on cryptid hunts or smth😚 so.. ig this is a semi AU where he does odd jobs across the country and experiences everything the road has to offer a lonely cowboy like him lol. and definitely listening to Orville Peck. also frequently communicating w Alphonse and SugarBoo bc they luv each otherrr🥰 and sometimes taking a break from his nomadic life to visit them. enjoy!

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

As I pushed my key into the lock of my front door, I heard a muttered curse from inside my home. Confused, I opened the door and peered into the kitchen to see my boyfriend’s very shapely, and completely bare, ass with just two thin strips of fabric tied behind his waist and neck to feign at covering him. “Al? I didn’t think you were coming over so soon?”

He whirled around, revealing that he was wearing nothing but my favorite apron. “Oh! Hey, boo! Uhh, what time is it… I guess I thought I’d have more time for your surprise, heh.” He grinned at me sheepishly.

“Surprise? Thought we were just gonna do dinner and a movie at home.” My eyes slid over his body as I took off my coat.

He smiled and moved closer so that he could loosely circle his arms around my hips. “I know, but I could tell you were kind of bummed about Seth not being here for Valentine’s Day, and I wanted to do somethin’ nice and romantic for you to cheer you up.”

I smiled a little sadly and leaned my head into his shoulder. It was hard not seeing our other partner every day, but we both understood how important traveling and going on adventures was to him. We texted and called often, and Alphonse and I had been together long enough before Seth crashed back into Al’s life and cannonballed into mine that we were more than okay on our own. We talked about him daily, and on days when one of us missed him a little too much the other would be there to reminisce, joke, cuddle, and comfort until the ache went away.

“But I guess that didn’t really work out, huh?” Al said, interrupting my thoughts.

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?...oh.” I looked over his shoulder at the rest of my kitchen for the first time since walking in. I guessed I hadn’t smelled the burnt cupcakes that were sitting dejectedly on the stovetop. They were black on top and red goo was periodically dripping over the sides of the muffin tin.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “You’re lucky I already cleaned up the spilled cake mix from the walls, the eggs I dropped, the… exploded buttercream frosting.” He shuddered. “Sorry, baby. I kind of messed up your kitchen for nothing. I don’t think those abominations can be saved.”

I smiled up at him and brought my hand to his cheek. “Al, it’s fine. Really. It won’t take too long to scrub out the muffin tray, so we can have even more time together tonight. I’m glad you came over early!”

He pulled me closer and buried his head in the crook of my neck, whining. “I know, but I had, like, a whole thing planned out! I was gonna make a bunch of red velvet cupcakes for you so you could take a break from baking for once, and turn the lights down and do the ‘rose petals on the floor going to the bath’ thing and meet you in the bathroom with the cupcakes like this,” he gestured to himself with one arm, his face still in my neck. “And I was gonna feed you your cupcakes in the bath and give you a back rub and maybe even try to call Brown Eyes if he hadn’t left his rest stop yet…”

“Babe,” I said, halting his rambling. “We can still do all that, even without the baked surprise. I mean, I was pretty surprised just coming home to this, anyway.” I ran a finger underneath the apron ribbon on his waist. ‘I have so many treats already in the fridge for us, you have no idea. We’re gonna have a great Valentine’s Day.”

He held me tighter and nodded but said nothing for a moment. After a few seconds, I heard him sigh through his nose. “I just miss him, y’know? This was supposed to be the first Valentine’s we all spent together. It just sucks we didn’t tell him we wanted to do something sooner so he could have time to get up here. I wanted to make it up to you a little bit.”

Oh. I turned my head to look at him so that he was forced to take his head off my shoulder, and I wound my arms more fully around his waist, he and I chest-to-chest and my face looking up at his pouting one. “Alphonse, you don’t have anything to make up to me. I know this isn’t what we were picturing, but it isn’t either of our faults, and I’m still prepared to have an awesome, romantic, sexy Valentine’s Day with you. Seth should be stopping for the night near New Mexico in a couple hours; we can talk to him then. Until then we can have plenty of fun on our own, right?”

Al smiled and leaned in even closer so our lips were just barely touching. “Yeah,” he breathed. “That sounds good. Now we’ve got more time to spoil each other, anyway. We don’t need that crybaby to have fun.”

I laughed against his mouth. “Careful. You looked about ready to cry, yourself when I walked in.” His lips curved up playfully for a moment before quickly leaning in to kiss me. My hands gripped his waist more firmly in surprise, and he tightened his arms even further around me, pressing us fully together so his hands could move up my back. My left hand drifted downward to shamelessly squeeze his bare ass cheek. As my fingertips drew closer inward, they brushed something… plastic?

I broke the kiss to look up at him in shock. I was met with cocked eyebrows and a toothy grin in silent response. “That would be the other part of your surprise. You’ve been puttin’ out vibes that you wanted to take control lately, and I thought tonight would be the perfect time to make a night of it.”

I gasped in elation, smiling wildly, and kissed him hard for a moment. As I pulled away, I gave him a light swat on the butt and told him, “Get the strap.”

“Yes, Boss!” he said, still grinning, but instead of moving past me to reach the bedroom, he turned around and retrieved my bubblegum pink strap on dildo and harness from behind the coffee pot on a nearby counter.

Naughty boy, he’d planned out more than I’d thought.

He handed it to me, smug as ever. I undressed quickly and performed the awkward, yet familiar dance of shimmying into the harness. Al and I exchanged one more lingering, messy kiss before he took a step back and sank to his knees.

My eyebrows quirked in surprise as I gazed down at him, amused and loving. “Aw, you wanna choke on my strap, baby?” I teased. He smoothed his hands up my thighs, half-lidded eyes never leaving their gaze. “You know I’d love nothing more,” he mumbled against the tip. He took it into his mouth, sucking softly, and worked his way to the base quickly. As the tip hit the back of his throat, he pushed on, gagging slightly. I raked my nails through the hair on the back of his head, grabbing a handful to help him down. He choked loudly, and his hands tightened on the backs of my thighs, nearly making my knees buckle. A strand of drool hung down, reaching his chest, and he moaned deeply through his nose as he continued to deepthroat me. By now his cheeks were rosy flushed and tears were begging to fall from their perch on his long, dark lashes. “So pretty,” I murmured, pushing my fingers through his bright, slightly bleach-damaged hair more gently now, softly scratching his scalp. He looked up at me with an expression that could only be described as adoring, and I loved him for it. “My good boy.”

“Mmm…” he groaned at the praise.

I tugged him off my strap and squeezed his shoulder, telling him to get up. When he got on his feet, he kissed me hard, wet mouth exploring mine, our teeth clashing a bit. He held on to me tightly and I embraced him, enjoying his being so desperate already. It was really no surprise he had such an oral fixation with all the lollipops he sucked on all day.

With my arms around his waist and hands rubbing his lower back, I turned my face upwards so my lips could brush his ear and whisper: “Since you’ve done such a good job of getting my cock wet, I’d guess you were ready to let me bend you over that table and make you see tweety birds.”

He lifted his head up from my shoulder and smiled dopily. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were onto somethin’, boo.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine to whisper to me huskily. “I want you to mess me up.”

With that confirmation, I pulled him with me toward my kitchen table, kissing him all the while. I turned us so his back was to the table and ran my hands up his chest, to his shoulders, to his neck, and gently began to tug at the bow holding the apron up. “I have been dying to tear this off you since the second I walked in,” I huffed hurriedly.

Alphonse leaned down so our faces were even and looked at me with dark, dilated eyes. “Well, I promise not to keep you waiting if you promise not to tease.” I laughed and gripped his chin harshly. “Al, sweetheart, you’re really not in a position to be making deals like that.” I slowly pulled at the ribbon string in my hand until the bow loosened, and the light fabric that sparsely covered him fell off his defined chest, spilling around the attractive “v” of his hips and exposing his dark happy trail. “If you want me to give you what you need, you’ll need to accept that I can do anything I want to you.” I leaned in to nibble and suck at his neck, and he sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. My other hand teased down the top of his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, and paused to tweak a nipple. He yelped a bit, and when I let go of his chin, his head rolled back. My hand continued down to his hard cock, his raspy breaths keeping time with slow, languid strokes while his hips tried to buck up into my fist. I circled his tip with my thumb lightly, teasingly.

“You’re a cruel mistress, you know that?” he said to the ceiling. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love it, but it’s true. And as for what position I’m s’posed to be in, I’ll let you worry about that.” He opened one eye and looked at me. “You know I’ve never objected to you doing anything you wanted to me before.”

“Hmm,” I mused, finishing a necklace of hickies across his clavicle. “Well, if that’s the case…” I grabbed his hips and turned him around quickly. He grunted in surprise and planted his hands on the table quickly to catch himself. He looked back at me with wide yet delighted eyes. “You wouldn’t mind if I finish what you started, would you?” I held the base of his plug in my fingertips, twisting it just a little, for emphasis.

“Hah!... “Course not, Boss. You know I’m yours to play with however you please.” he said, a bit strained, and leaned even farther over the table. “Good,” I whispered, and eased the buttplug out of him. He exhaled slowly and forcefully, and eased his back into an arch. I placed it on the counter next to me. I smoothed one hand up his spine, admiring the pale expanse of his back and the cute pink bow still tied around his waist. With the other, I lined my pink dildo up to his hole and slowly, slowly, began to push in. “Mm!” Alphonse cried, stifled. I eased in carefully, rubbing his back and cooing at him the whole time.

Once completely inside, Al moaned loudly and pushed his hips back more to try and grind on my cock. To his disappointment, I almost completely pulled out of him. But before he could protest, I swiftly pushed in all the way, rubbing against his prostate.

“Fuck, ohh, christ,” he choked out. I laughed a little at his reaction and kept fucking him the same way: slow and hard.

I took the time to admire him- his fluffy hair mussed up, his cheek smooshed into the table, his eyebrows drawn together wantonly, and deep, rhythmic moans falling from them. My eyes drifted lower, loving the way the sheer of sweat on his lean back made his skin shine. Even lower, that bubble butt was still making me lose focus, rippling from the force of my hips meeting it with every thrust.

And with every thrust, the base of the dildo ground into my clit, making me drive forward more quickly, more harshly, chasing the sweet sensation. I unknowingly gave Alphonse exactly what he wanted, it seemed, because he melted beneath me. His knees nearly gave out and he looked back at me, panting slightly. “Does that feel good, baby?” I grinned at him. “Nnghh,” he replied, letting his head fall back down.

The building pleasure below and seeing his sweet expression gave me an idea for something else I wanted from him.

I slowed down and pumped into him a few more times, then pulled out gingerly; he whined in confusion and tried to turn around. I leaned over him fully and put my lips next to his ear. “I want to ride your dick so I can see your pretty face when you come in me.” He picked his head up again, leaving behind a small pool of saliva, and grinned tiredly and replied, “If I can walk to the couch, you can make this already good Valentine’s Day a great one, boo.”

When I pulled him up, the apron fell off him completely and he hugged me around my neck, leaning most of his weight on me. It must have looked funny, this lanky guy hanging off me, half-carrying him to the living room, and shoving him backwards onto my couch. He fell with little effort and a small oof. He looked up at me as I wriggled out of the harness, kicked it aside, and moved to straddle his thighs, and he said breathlessly, “Come take what’s yours.”

His dick was flushed pink and leaking against his stomach. So pretty. I took it in my hand and stroked it slowly, and at the same time leant forward and kissed him firmly. “I intend to,” I whispered against his lips, to which he smiled and squeezed my hips in his hands. I lifted my hips and guided his cock to my hole, and slowly sank down, moaning. I was already so wet from fucking him, and he slid in so easily. As the backs of my thighs met his hips, he threw his head back and let out a long, low sound through parted lips. With one hand on his chest and the other beside his head, I began to rock slowly, murmuring praise to him all the while. His hands slid up my body and he was begging me to go faster between whimpers, so I gently took his wrists in both my hands and pinned them on either side of his head on the armrest. He flexed his arms, but didn’t try to break free. His eyes were squeezed shut as I sucked on his neck, leaving a new rainbow of hickies.

As I worked my way up to his jawline, I heard him suck in a harsh breath and he tried to sit up quickly. I blurted his name, confused, and sat back to look at him. His wide-eyed gaze was fixed behind me, towards the door, and I heard a low chuckle. Before I could turn around in surprise, or get myself off my man’s dick so I could fight off an intruder, a warm, rough hand curled around my waist and a familiar face leaned its chin on my shoulder.

“Well, ain’t this a pretty sight to come home to,” a deep voice drawled. He may have also said something teasing us for having so much fun without him, but Alphonse or I’d have no way of knowing because once I- ahem- removed him, we were all over Seth, hugging him and asking how on earth he made it all the way here. Once we’d settled in a pile, all of us kind of sitting on everyone else, he began to explain.

“You knuckleheads really thought I’d miss Valentine’s Day?” he laughed between kisses. “I’m no dummy, I know how y’all feel about it. I just thought I’d surprise you and tell you I was farther away than I was, but I’ve been making my way back to you for the last five days.” He had one arm around my shoulders and cupped Alphonse’s face with the other. “I thought when I got back y’all would be moping around, missin’ me. Instead, I come home to you both screwing like jackalopes without a care in the world.” he teased, pouting.

Alphonse huffed. “What, we’re just supposed to spend our favorite holiday cryin’ our eyes out over you? That ain’t fair!”

“Mmm, I think he just means he missed being included in our cuddle puddle,” I purred and leaned my head on Al’s shoulder.

“That, or the idea of you two being horny-sad thinkin’ of me keeps me warm on lonely nights.”

I glared at Seth. “You aren’t helping.”

He laughed. “No, but I love the look on my bubblegum prince’s face when he’s trying to be mad at me.” He leaned in close so he was an inch from Al’s flustered face. “But really he’s dyin’ to be put right back on his back so I can really show him how much I missed him.”

The poor man’s blush deepened, and he grumbled a little.

I smiled and wrapped my arms around Seth’s shoulders, pulling him back so we were both staring at Al. “I think he needs us, don’t you agree? Maybe you could help me put him back in his place.”

“Oh, no, sugar, this here’s your battle. As much as I’d love to beat the brat out of him, I’m too tired to really give it my all. I’d prefer to hang back and take a more… supporting role.” He smooched the side of my neck and leaned back.

Grinning at Al, I put my hand on his chest and started to push him back down like he was. “Well, baby? You gonna put up a fight now that you know big bad Seth’s not gonna force you to sit pretty for me?”

He shook his head and grabbed my hand to kiss it. “I’m his brat, but I’ll always behave for you, boo.”

Seth chuckled and moved to straddle Al’s thighs behind me. “Well, he knows what’s good for him, that’s for sure.”

Alphonse began to reply. “Shut up, man- agh!”

I yanked his hair sharply. “Maybe not. But we can correct that together some other time. Right now, I only care about enjoying the rest of my evening the way I’d dreamed of spending it, with both my boys.”

He whimpered softly. “Yes, Boss.”

Seth was so close to me I could feel his chest pressed against my back. He rested his chin on my shoulder again. “I always love to watch you work, sugar,” he breathed flirtily against my ear. He reached around me for Alphonse’s cock, and the second he touched it Al let out a huge sigh. He pumped it up and down in his fist a few times, surely enjoying the way his pearly precum dripped over the pink tip. I lifted my hips up so Seth could help me guide it in, and sank down, more easily this time and no less pleasurable. I could feel Seth smirking against my neck as he held onto my hip with one hand and held Al’s hand with the other.

Al was already settled back into our former rhythm with his free hand gripping the side of my thigh, head thrown back against the armrest and eyes closed in bliss, moaning with each bounce of my hips. “So glad you’re here, Seth,” he panted. “Mm! Ahh, I missed you so, fuck, so much. I really did.”

Seth let go of Al’s hand to trail it up his stomach teasingly. “Aww, Al. Well, I had to come take care of you, didn’t I?” Al’s back arched to meet his touch. I’d do the same; we were both so starved for his affection. Seth smoothed his hand back down Alphonse’s torso, all the way to where our bodies met, and ran both hands all the way up my body to my shoulders, forcing me to lean back against his warm, broad chest. “Take care of both of you,” he purred. And without warning, he brushed his fingers over my nipples, sending electricity running through my body, especially my clit. I moaned his name loudly and threw my head back to rest on his shoulder. He continued to circle my nipples lightly, and my hips began to move faster even though my legs were starting to burn. Alphonse flexed his hands on my thighs and began babbling brokenly and bucking up into me at the increased sensation. Seth grabbed my hips to help me bounce and at the same time left a wet trail of tender kisses across the back of my neck and shoulders- not skimping on the teeth, either.

“Fuck, please!” Alphonse cried, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“What do you need, baby?” I panted. I was getting close.

“Aah, m’gonna cum, please Boss, can I cum? Pleeease…”

I was about to reply when Seth spoke. “Not ‘til our sugar does.” And he began to rub my clit quickly with wet fingers. My back arched hard in shock and ecstasy so that I could hardly move at all, but they both helped me move on Al’s cock, moving faster, rubbing harder, pushing me through pulsing, all-consuming pleasure… until I fell from the threshold, rocking against Al’s cock frantically while he called my name, and falling against Seth’s chest once more into strong, safe arms. Al moaned sharply once more, and a warmth filled me and sent another wave through me. Once I opened my eyes again, Seth laid me down next to (on top of) Al and knelt down beside the couch, smiling down at us.

“Seth, honey... I missed you so much too. I’m so glad you could be here, tonight wouldn’t have been the same without you,” I said as I tucked Al’s head under my chin.

“Me too, babe. Although it seemed to me y’all were gettin’ on just fine on your own…” he glanced at the strap on discarded next to the coffee table.

Al laughed wearily. “Sure, but I ain’t this fucked out unless the both of you were involved in messin’ me up.”

“How’re you feeling, by the way? That looked like it took a lot out of you.” I said, squeezing him tight.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It was a lot, but like… so good. Y’know. I’m really good.”

“Mhm, don’t I know it.” Seth remarked. “Once sugar here works that magic, you’re a goner.” He leaned over Alphonse to kiss me, his tongue sliding over mine.

Alphonse let out a long sigh. “Guess I’m the one who needs the bath now.”

Seth huffed a chuckle into my mouth and broke away to look at him questioningly.

“I was gonna run a bath for us so we could spoil each other and eat cupcakes in it.”

“Not like that last part was gonna happen,”I snickered.

“Hey!”

Seth gasped. “You tried to make cupcakes? I was wondering who got stabbed over that stovetop when I came in.”

“Boo said it wasn’t that bad!”

I giggled, knowing their bickering was loving. “If you two are done, I think we should get on with the rest of our night. All of us are hungry and probably sore, and I know I want to spend more time cuddling in our actual bed now Seth’s here.”

Al grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked up at Seth. “I’ve been waitin’ to get my hands on you for a long time now, Brown Eyes. We gotta take advantage of a night like tonight.”

“I agree,” Seth murmured. “We’re not gonna do a thing but enjoy each other’s company.” Then he kissed him, long and deep. After they parted, he stood up, grunting. “I’m gonna go draw that bath y’all were talking about so you can rest. I’ll be back for you in a minute, so don’t go anywhere.”

“Say draw one more time,” I pleaded, smirking.

“Draw-er,” he obliged. “And don’t go teasing me about it, neither.”

“Us? Never.” Al smiled deviously. Seth stared sternly at us, then winked and turned to the bathroom. Alphonse nuzzled deeper into my arms and sighed contently. I planted a kiss into his hair and thought about how lucky I must be to have two amazing boyfriends to cherish and surprise me everyday.

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

A/N: I loved writing this sm and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I hope to do more stuff like this, and soon. this is actually my first fanfic (first inspired by Valentine's Day with your Submissive Boyfriend audio rp by SweetKinkAudio on p*rnhub) and I'd love any criticism or advice if you're willing to give me any💖💖💖 happy valentine's day!!

taglist: @dizzy-n-busy

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice seth #fanfic #yuurivoice bittersweet #alphonse yuurivoice #seth yuurivoice #ao3

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randomfoggytiger · 5 months

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X-Files Musicals: Compilation (2023)

2023 was a big year for me; but crafting amvs for the first time (something I'd dreamed of doing for years) will forever be a treasured highlight.

And I'm not bothered in the least if no one else watches them-- they're my passion project! Mine, mine, mine!

~~~Musicals/Fan Vids/AMVs~~~

Fight Club (Finale)

A much-improved upon episode with a small musical number for each character.

My first edit. It's the sort of jank I don't revisit often (tinkered a little too much with it); but that avoidance doesn't diminish the sense of accomplishment that two weeks of constant obstacles and setbacks and eventual success still gives.

Fight Club: Finale Redone with Less Kathy Griffiths

What it says on the tin.

TINH: Scully’s Solo

I Dreamed a Dream got me right in the heart as a small child; got me again when Susan Boyle sang it; and still gets me every time I watch my own amv over and over and over again. ;)))

S2 Abduction: Mulder’s Torment

Beautifully done, if I do say so-- leaning into the dark side of Mulder's torment during Scully's Season 2 absence. "There is no curse or evil spell/That's worse than one we give ourselves," after all.

Drivin’ Right Along

Good ol' The Muppets chaos as Drive's Crump (Kermit) and Mulder (Fozzie) take on the open road.

Hungry: Everything Is Food/Our Town: Everything Is Food

Pulled this from the amazing Popeye movie: small towns and burger obsessions are a universal invariant.

Krycek and Marita: Loathe to Love

I had to use "You're My Little Chu-Chi Face" from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, I had to.

Syzygy: Everything You Can Do I Can Do Better

This really is a perfect fit for that whole fiasco, isn't it? (Also, really proud of how I utilized Mulder and Scully's bicker in the hallway~.)

Mulder and Samantha: Miracle of Miracles

Fiddler on the Roof's first debut; and my own special, transformative twist on the Tailor's triumphant love song.

Amor Fati: If I Never Knew You

A wonderful find from @welsharcher-- gotta throw in some romantic Disney tunes sooner or later! (And it turned out magnificently, if I do say so myself.)

Arcadia: People Will Say We’re in Love

Although Scully's singing sections had to be pared down, this little vid came together quite nicely in the end~.

Scully, Far from the Home She Loves

Second Fiddler on the Roof song-- tried to create this in the style of a loosely told travelogue.

CSM and Diana: The Riddle

The drama of The Scarlet Pimpernel cannot be denied; but it was so much fun to take one of the songs then craft it around Diana and CSM with Mulder caught in the middle (..."OF OOOOOOOOOOONE LONG, TREACHEROUS RIDDLE!")

The Mulders: Sunrise, Sunset

The last of the Fiddler on the Roof amvs. This time, we focus on Bill and Tena Mulder-- to great effect, I hope.

~~~ Proud of all of them! ~~~

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #The Musical #Compilation #2023 #xfiles #x-files #the x files #amv #edit #xf fanvid #xf vid

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derpcakes · 11 months

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Okay, I’m never actually going to write this (for reasons I’ll go into in a moment) but do know that a few years ago I was playing with a fanfic idea where a glitched out Holy Grail manifests in rural New South Wales. An ordinary teenager just trying to scrape by ‘til graduation in this tin-pot dairy town is out on a beer run for some crappy country high school party when two supernatural beings crash through the bottle’o wall, one with a spear and one with a pair of shiny, impossibly fast pistols. She survives being caught in the fight but inevitably ends up on her arse looking up at the glowing gunslinger, who says something about being a Heroic Spirit needing a Master. Our heroine then replies “Yeah nah, get fucked”. Nonetheless, she’s dragged into this battle, and the adventure begins from there.

I had most of a cast of Servants laid out: some smartypants mage decides to summon Ned Kelly--an Australian Heroic Spirit if ever there was one, and who is naturally depicted as a hot lady--before remembering that Ned Kelly was famous for being an outlaw who embodies the quintessential Aussie lack of respect for authority. Summoned as the Archer, Kelly has a degree of independence but ultimately needs a human to keep her anchored, hence going “wait, shit” after breaking her own contract, then reluctantly teaming up with our country town hero in the scene above. Since Ned Kelly’s homemade armour is so famous (to the point where a lot of art just depicts the armour, and it’s way more recognisable than his actual face despite photographs of him existing!) the armour would be constantly on, but invisible, in the same way that Arturia obscures Excalibur. Plenty of potential here for dramatic reveals, not to mention the Themes and Motifs.

I also liked the idea of each Master having a kind of disjointed cultural relationship with their Heroic Spirit, e.g. a young mage who’s grown up as part of the Greek diaspora in Australia summons a hero from Ancient Greek legend; a character whose noble family fled Russia during the revolution (and hasn’t lived there since) summons a staple of Russian folklore like Baba Yaga (as Rider, you know, for her walking house). These old stories are part of these characters’ heritage, but the versions that exist in lore and legend are unrecognisable from anything they’ve known due to the passage of time and the transformation of culture through the immigrant experience. I thought that could be a fun thing to play around with, you know? Especially with the Australian setting.

I also messed around with the idea that someone summons what they think is a Valkyrie (back before they turned up in FGO!) but, in a third act reveal, turns out to actually be Loki in disguise. Loki would be Very Gender and extremely fun as an amoral pseudo-villain who gets into some cheeky chats with Ned Kelly about the way humans mythologise their troublemakers while also shooting them down.

Oh! It was also going to be gay. At least, in terms of the rowdy teen heroine having a female love interest (in the form of a traumatised but deeply powerful girl from an abusive, traditional mage family. She was gonna be full of plants. The heroine was going to throw it all away and go feral to save her in the end, probably punching God in the face to do it. Do you see what I’m doing here? You gotta have the archetypes).

Anyway, while there were some Cool Ideas floating around here, I ultimately shelved and buried this thing. a) it was going to be a SUPER research intensive project, not only in reading up on the myth and history to get the Servants right, but getting my head around the intricacies of Nasuverse worldbuilding not only enough to understand it but enough to mess with it in way that would be satisfying to the reader. These plot bunnies were bouncing around my head when I was in the middle of my Honours year, and heading towards my doctoral studies, so unfortunately, much like real bunnies in Australia, they were deemed an invasive species that would suck up too many of my resources.

And I was alright with this, because b) I realised that the thing about Fate that makes me want to write fic is its characters, not its world. So staying in the world but taking the characters out felt... well, not like my kind of creative direction. And I would need bucketloads of passion to get me through this thing, because naturally as the story of my very own Grail War it would need to be at least novel-length. And not a thin novel, either...

I thought to myself “If I’m going to do this much worldbuilding and develop this many OCs for a novel-length fic, I may as well be writing my own original fantasy novels”. Which I’m doing! Some ideas that started here have ended up being folded into other, more successful projects. My interest in exploring a trickster god character flowed right into my PhD work, which is largely about trickster god characters; and I’ve nicked and repurposed a few other elements, too, like the idea of a mage family who get their mana from a freaky symbiotic relationship with plants that they grow in their own body. I feel like my angry, take-no-shit, typically Aussie Ordinary Heroine--the girl I placed in Shirou’s archetypal role--will wander into an original project too, since she has a lot of presence and I think would be really fun as a protagonist.

Anyway--I’m not going to come back to this, but the idea echoes in my brain every now and then, so I figured I’d share it here. What do you all think? If you could devise your own Grail War from the ground up where would you set it and who would you throw in the ring?

#in honour of Fate/Strange Fake getting that TV special!#going to tag this #coffeefic #so it has a shelf to sit on and I don't lose it

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esperata · 5 months

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End of year wip round-up

Time to look through my files of notes and see what plots I have still waiting attention, and perhaps assess where they are in the scale of projects. Colour coded for riddlebird, hattercrow, wahsbands or octogoblin. I'm always open to questions on my projects. In fact, please do ask if you want to encourage them to be written.

Starting with some I have posted as unfinished works.

OTT (LEGO Batman) : I intend to post a second chapter for this, showing how well Riddler's plan turns out.

Gay Attorney (Gotham/Ace Attorney) : This is supposed to have multiple chapters with the various 'witnesses' taking the stand.

Little Bird (Batwoman) : Not sure where this is heading but a follow up chapter seems necessary.

P.I. Riddler (DC comics) : I have an outline of the idea for this but not sure how many chapters it will require to complete.

Urban Legends (Batman - all media) : There is going to be a continuation here with other rogues making an appearance.

What Is Reality? (Btas) : I already have a second chapter started and a concept of where its going, including a 'final' scene.

A few extra Mahou AU story ideas.

Killer Croc vs Jonathan (Arkhamverse) : This is an interesting conflict I'd like to write.

Grown up Ed gets powers (Burtonschumacher) : We only saw one half of this duo in my first story so it seems fair to bring in Riddler.

Take A Chance on Me (Arkhamverse) : Pitting the pair against the machinations of Hugo Strange.

Oz mentors Ed (The Batman) : Does what it says on the tin.

The Curse of Alice (1960s) : Again an interesting development I'd like to explore.

Future Hattercrow (Gotham) : Not sure about this but considering this pair twenty years further on.

The Telltale series.

You Only Live Twice : Oswald is being mentored but demands Edward treat him as an equal if he truly respects him.

For Your Eyes Only : Edward gets trapped by the Agency and suffers their virus before returning to Oswald.

The Spy Who Loved Me : Oswald helps Edward through the aftereffects, unwilling to lose anyone else to madness.

Live and Let Die : Riddler is planning his return to Gotham, letting Oswald into the secrets of his past to convince him.

The Living Daylights : A continuation of the story arc.

New stand alone ideas.

Babysitter : Wario is cajoled into babysitting Bowser's kids and calls Waluigi in for reinforcements.

Sherrif Wario : Waluigi rides into town and immediately gets called a trouble maker by the Mario bros. Wario makes his own assessment.

Good Omens : A friend suggested Alfred Molina as Aziraphale and Willem Dafoe as Crowley which is a fantastic idea.

Fate Or Something Like It : I really wanted to consider the timeline after Norman got back from No Way Home. How he might try to save Otto from his fate.

Old Friends, Bitter Enemies : I watched the Spider-man PS game and love the dynamic of Norman and Otto. It would be worth playing with.

Skyscraper : Basically a PWP. Be fun to write.

Misunderstandings : Oswald overhears Ed saying something he shouldn't.

Batman vs Dracula (2004 cartoon) : A re-write of the film except bringing Riddler into the story.

Halloween Topsy Turvy : A fancy dress party at the Lounge causes feelings to run high.

Streamer Ed (btas) : Ed works as a streamer, with Jon and Jervis as mods, and a habit of review Iceberg Lounge promotional videos.

Gotham Gossip (Gotham) : Newspaper column style fic charting their rising and falling relationship. I still like this concept but am struggling with the media.

Kids museum meeting (comics) : A look back at how they might have met as children.

Secret Admirer : Where both Oswald and Ed are the other's secret admirer.

Tattoos (comics) : Oswald has tattoos - Ed is intrigued.

Olga My Queen (1960s/Gotham) : What if the Queen of Cossacks was Oswald's maid?

Gotta Shape Up (Harley Quinn series) : ngl I lost impetus with this show but I still like this idea - Ed having to step up with Joshua after Oswald's demise.

The King Is Dead : Similar concept in that it looks at how Riddler might react in the wake of Penguin's demise.

Wrap You Around My Finger : Ed is new to Gotham and thinks it'll be easy to cajole favours from Penguin. He is wrong.

Western AU : I wanted a fic with Jonathan on a horse thus this idea was born.

Are We Friends? (Gotham) : Ed struggles to pin down just what their relationship is during Oswald's eye recovery period. Again, not super confident writing in this media now.

Rogues Go Skiing (LEGO) : Cutesy vacation style slice of life.

Arkham sitcom : Exactly as it says, chapters done with mini plots happening, all within Arkham asylum.

Bookshop (1960s) : Penguin owns a book store and has suitors competing for him - Riddler vs Bookworm

Pre-Arkham : What if Jon and Jervis met before either became rogues?

Trans Oswald (The Batman) : Not actually a romantic fic but more angsty, considering what if he'd had a child in his younger years.

Merman Oz (2004 cartoon) : I just like the visual of him as a mermaid.

What You Love Most (Arkhamverse) : Another angsty piece where Ed doesn't realise Oswald's feelings.

Drive-in Movie (Batwheels) : Simultaneous riddlebird and Ducky/Quizz.

Music Meister (Arkhamverse) : Don't tell me the concept of Oz being forced to sing isn't hilarious.

Rumour Mill : Jonathan steps in when rumours spread about Jervis.

Trans Ed (Arkhamverse) : I wanted to write Oz facing his own transphobia but I'm not sure I can do the topic with the required sensitivity.

Hypnotism : As a hattercrow fan, its almost a rite of passage to write Jervis using his powers on Jon.

Merry Little Batman : I'm always drawn to new media variations.

More continuations.

The World Is Your Oyster sequel : What would life be like living with an octo-person?

Post Game (Arkhamverse) : A possibly final installment to my arkham Games series.

Nobody Said It Was Going To Be Easy sequel (btas) : Not sure this is something I still want to do honestly.

The Boss (The Batman) : Picking up their story post film.

Angel!Ed/Demon!Oz (2004 cartoon) : Bringing the contrasting pair actually together.

Pax Penguina sequel (Gotham) : I have no impetus to continue this one at present.

The Real Deal sequel (btas) : Considering whether Ed might get his own larger than life Penguin doll.

The King Of Gotham sequel (comics) : Picking up where the story ends off. Not finished posting the original yet.

#wips #riddlebird #writing #hattercrow #octogoblin #wahsbands

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coochiequeens · 5 months

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“So women with access to emergency care are the ones that live,” she said. “Women that don’t, die.”

https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/2024/01/21/gaza-childbirth/

JERUSALEM — Walaa didn’t expect the birth of her fourth child to spark abject fear. But by the time her contractions started, the whole family was frantic.

There were no ambulances to be seen in the streets of Gaza’s Rafah City, she said, now so crammed with displaced families that there was barely any food left available for the 27-year-old.

When her uncle Wissam, a doctor, reached the tent where she had lived for weeks in the cold, he said, he could see they had run out of time. “I’m having the baby now,” she kept telling him. It was dark, and she was scared.

His cellphone flashlight was all they had to see by.

The humanitarian catastrophe caused by Israel’s three-month military campaign against Hamas in Gaza counts some 52,000 pregnant women among its greatest victims. As airstrikes push 1.9 million people into an ever-smaller corner of the besieged enclave, disease is spreading, famine is looming and levels of anemia are so high that the risk of postpartum hemorrhage has soared and breastfeeding is often impossible. Forty percent of pregnancies are high-risk, CARE international estimates.

Prenatal care is almost nonexistent — what remains of Gaza’s hospital network is on its knees, at 250 percent capacity and consumed with treating mass casualties from Israeli bombing. Far more women are giving birth outside of medical facilities — in displacement camps, even in the street — than inside them.

Damage to facilities and communications blackouts — the strip lost cellphone service for a week this month — have left Gaza’s health ministry unable to compilereliable data for infant or maternal mortality during the conflict. But doctors and aid groups say miscarriage and stillbirths have spiked.

“What we know about pregnancy-related complications is that it’s hard to prevent them in any setting, but the way that we save a woman and newborn’s life is we treat the complication quickly,” said Rondi Anderson, a midwifery specialist for the Project HOPE aid group.

“So women with access to emergency care are the ones that live,” she said. “Women that don’t, die.”

The only place that Wissam could find to deliver his terrified niece’s baby was a spot of cold earth between the tents. Aid workers hung bedsheets to give the woman a modicum of privacy. No one had been able to contact Walaa’s husband, and her mother was so scared that at times she had to look away. They cut the boy’s umbilical cord with an unsterilized scalpel and they filled tin cans with hot water to keep him warm. He weighed 7 pounds and Walaa named him Ramzy.

The family spoke on the condition that only their first names be used because they feared for their safety in the event that Israeli troops entered the town.

Baby Ramzy is 5 days old. (Loay Ayyoub for The Washington Post)

They fled their home in northern Gaza so abruptly that no one thought to grab clothes for the baby. This week, Ramzy was swaddled in a onesie outgrown by another child in the camp. He wailed as Walaa, still in pain from tearing during the birth, gingerly pulled herself upright.

The 16-year blockade imposed by Israel and Egypt after Hamas won control of Gaza had already made pregnancy and childbirth more difficult for expecting mothers. Before the current conflict, hospitals often lacked adequate equipment and training for neonatal staff, according to Medical Aid for Palestinians, and more than half of pregnant women were anemic.

Hamas fighters streamed out of the enclave on Oct. 7 to kill around 1,200 people in Israel and take another 240 hostage. Israel responded with a bombing campaign and ground war to eradicate Hamas, killing almost 25,000 Palestinians, most of them civilians, to date.

The South African legal team that accused Israel before the International Court of Justice this month of committing genocide during the conflict argued that the obstruction of lifesaving treatment since Oct. 7 amounts to preventing births.

A lawyer for Israel called allegations that it is obstructing the delivery of food, water, fuel and other supplies critical for Gaza “tendentious and partial,” and said it was working “around-the-clock” to help scale up the volume of aid making it into the enclave.

Hanaa al-Shawa, 23, gave birth to her first child, Ayla, during the coronavirus pandemic, and the little girl, she said, brought her family a “glimmer of hope.” Shawa and her husband Mustafa, 25, were ecstatic when they learned in July that another child was on the way. The war began in October, and the future they dreamed of fell apart. “I had felt overwhelming joy,” Shawa recalled. “I did not realize that this joy would turn into great suffering.”

Nearly 20,000 babies were born in Gaza during the first 105 days of the war, UNICEF reported Friday. Delays in the delivery of lifesaving supplies, the U.N. children’s agency said, have left some hospitals performing Caesarean sections without anesthetic. Spokeswoman Tess Ingram said she met a nurse at Gaza’s Emirati maternity hospital who had helped with postmortem caesarians on six dead women.

“Seeing newborn babies suffer while some mothers bleed to death should keep us all awake at night,” Ingram told reporters Friday. “In the time it has taken to present this to you, another baby was likely born, but into what?”

“Becoming a mother should be a time of celebration,” she said. “But in Gaza it’s another child delivered into hell.”

For the five pregnant women interviewed by Washington Post reporters, fear that mother or baby might not survive suffused their waking thoughts — and made appearances in nightmares, too.

Shawa and Mustafa left their home in Gaza City’s Yarmouk Street in the second week of October. The Israel Defense Forces had ordered 1.1 million people in northern Gaza to move south for what it described as their own safety.

“I was afraid that I would miscarry because of the power of the rockets,” she said.

Displaced Palestinian families from the northern and central Gaza Strip evacuate toward southern Gaza on Oct. 13. (Loay Ayyoub for The Washington Post)

Many pregnant women made the 20-mile journey from north to south on foot, their legs swollen and joints heavy as they carried their luggage, three women who made the journey told The Post.

When Ayla was born, her family had a room full of toys ready for her. The room in which Shawa’s second child, a girl, will spend her first weeks, in a friend’s home in the Tel al-Sultan area, is tainted with asbestos, she said.

“We carried Ayla here in just the clothes she was wearing, and we don’t even have anything warm for her,” Shawa said. “If I’m unable to provide for her, what will I do for my next child?”

Rising food scarcity and malnutrition can cause potentially life-threatening complications during childbirth and lead to low birth weight, wasting, failure to thrive and developmental delays.

Shawa said she had only eaten tinned food, with no access to fruit or vegetables, since she left her home three months ago. Doctors have said her iron levels are low and her blood pressure is high. Mustafa searches daily but has found no suitable medication to control it.

Saja Al-Shaer, 19, started to feel like she was too young to become a mother. Her weight had dropped below 110 pounds, she was anemic, and her husband had not managed to get her medication, either. “He spent three days knocking on the doors of pharmacies,” she said. “I do not know if I will see this child or not.”

In late December, doctors at the al-Aqsa Hospital, 11 miles to the north, received a pregnant woman whose high blood pressure caused eclampsia and bleeding to her brain, according to Deborah Harrington, a British obstetrician who volunteered at the hospital with a Medical Aid for Palestinians team.

The baby was delivered by a C-section, Harrington said. The mother was still on life support when the physician left two weeks later.

“These women are presenting it in much more extreme condition,” Harrington said. “They’re just not getting hypertensive treatment. They’re not being screened for diabetes. If they’re diabetic, they’re not getting treatment for their diabetes.

“They know that actually accessing care, as it often is for women in conflict, is really difficult and fraught with danger. At night, there is often no light, so moving around is really difficult. You can’t call an ambulance because there’s no signal. The women I saw were really frightened.”

Walaa with her uncle Wissam, who helped deliver her newborn son. (Loay Ayyoub for The Washington Post)

From the corner of the damp room where Walaa was tending to Ramzy on Friday, she worried about where they would find clean water or baby formula. Her family had looked everywhere for diapers, but come up empty. In Tel al-Sultan, Shawa was fixating on rumors that Israel’s army would direct them to evacuate again. The walking, the carrying, the sense that nothing around her was hygienic — it all frightened her.

But she had made one decision that no shortage or military orders could change. She would name her daughter after her sister-in-law, killed in an Israeli airstrike weeks earlier while trying to find shelter for her own children.

The girl, she said, would be called Heba. In Arabic, it means blessing from God.

Mahfouz reported from Cairo and Harb reported from London. Loay Ayyoub in Rafah contributed to this report.

#Gaza #Maternal and infant care in gaza #Delivering babies with the light from cellphones #52000 pregnant women #40% of pregnancies in gaza are high risk #Hospitals in gaza are at 250% capacity #Medical Aid for Palestinians #Caesarean sections without anesthetic #postmortem caesarians in a desperate bid to save the baby

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magicalmysteries777 · 4 months

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The Shire Is Burning - Chapter 13.

Summary: Trying to navigate problems like growing up as a teen in the 80s in a new town can be tough enough without taking things like being on the run for faulty murder charges, alternate dimensions, and a psychopath with powers that's hellbent on revenge into account. Can Lilith do enough to help her new friends save everyone from Vecna? Or at the very least... just one person?

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character.

Contents: Swearing, smoking, drug use, eventual smut, and canon typical violence mentioned throughout. Minors DNI.

Chapter: 13 of ?

Chapter Masterlist: Here.

WC: 1812.

A/N: I am currently in the process of re-writing this abandoned wip from last year so I can move onto new projects without feeling guilty. Enjoy ❤️

March 25th, 1986.

When Lilith woke she was surprisingly calm, much to her surprise. She’d remembered having nightmares and yet she wasn’t crying or screaming. Her eyes opened slowly to adjust to the bright morning sun glaring into the room as she let out a deep yawn. It took her a few moments to realize that someone was stroking her hair. “Munson, what are you doing in here?” she asked, quickly sitting up and freeing herself from his grasp.

“You were screaming again but I managed to calm you down without waking you up… I didn’t know if you’d start again when I moved so I just stayed. I’ll go now if you want?” he asked sleepily.

“No, no. It’s okay. You stay, I’m going to go shower,” she told him before leaving the room.

Lilith entered the kitchen in search of food thirty minutes later. They were running low on supplies now. “Hey, Munson,” she called.

“Yeah?” he asked, appearing in the doorway a few seconds later.

“We’re almost out of food. You think we should try and get in touch with the kids again?” she asked.

“I’ll do that, you find something to eat,” he instructed.

She searched the cupboards high and low before finding two tins of spaghetti and sausages. It would have to do. The sound of Eddie’s voice echoed from the living room. “Hey, Dustin, this is ‘Eddie the Banished’. Dustin, can you hear me? Dustin? Earth to Dustin?”

“Hey, it’s Nancy.”

Lilith dropped the tins on the counter and ran to the living room, joining Eddie.

“Wheeler! Hey. Um, we’re going to need a food delivery, like, really soon, unless you want us going out into the world,” he told her.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t do that.”

“Listen um… Can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s stupid as shit drinking right now, but, a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves,” he asked, trying to reason with her.

“Hey, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“No, don’t you da- Wheeler? Wheeler?!”

Eddie tossed the walkie-talkie back on the table, sulking.

“Cheer up, Munson. You’ll get your beer. Movie or cards?”

A quiet knock at the door distracted Lilith’s attention away from the pages of the book she had her nose buried inside.

“Hey,” Eddie said, softly.

“Hey. You okay?” she replied.

“Mhmm,” Eddie mumbled, standing in the doorway. He lingered for a few seconds, not saying anything else.

“You need something, Munson?” Lilith asked.

“I’m bored,” he said flatly.

“And since when is that my problem?” she asked, picking her book back up. Eddie walked over to the bed and flopped down onto it.

“Henderson,” he whinged.

“Oh my God, Munson, what?” she asked, putting the book back down.

“I’m bored,” he repeated.

“Yeah, you’ve said, what do you want me to do about it?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I need something to do,” he muttered, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. Lilith threw her book at him.

“Ow!” he said, picking it up. “Guessing you want me to read it, then?”

“Well I want to read but you won’t bloody shut up about being bored. If you want something to do so badly, read it to me. Then we both get what we want,” she told him, wriggling around to get comfy.

““I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.

“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.””

Eddie read to her for over an hour doing a different voice for each character in the book, the same way he did whenever he played Dungeons & Dragons. Lilith couldn’t help but laugh any time he did his high-pitched Frodo voice. After a while, she stopped paying attention to the words coming out of his mouth and instead turned her focus towards him. The corners of his mouth were turned upwards in an infectious smile, one that Lilith noticed she couldn’t help but mirror.

A million questions were running through her head, but none of them had any answers. The more time they spent together, the harder and harder Lilith was finding it to stay mad at him; and for the first time since returning to Hawkins, Lilith felt the mask that she had been wearing begin to slip ever so slightly.

“You’re relieved of duty, Munson, it’s been a couple of hours now,” Lilith yawned.

“But it’s getting good…” Eddie said, the impatience conveyed in his tone.

“Save some for a rainy day. I’m starving,” she declared, her stomach beginning to growl.

“You made breakfast, I’ll get this one. It’ll give me something to do,” he said while rolling his eyes, tossing the book back on the bed with a defeated look.

“What are you doing when all of this is over then?” Lilith pondered after a few minutes of being distracted by her own thoughts.

“Me? I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Miss O'Donell's. If I don’t blow her final I’m going to walk that stage that next month, I’m going to look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I’m going to flip him the bird, I’m going to snatch that diploma, and I’m going to run like hell out of there,” Eddie laughed.

“I’m sure Dustin mentioned something about you saying the same thing last year… and the year before that,” she teased.

“Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit. This year is different. This year is my year. I can feel it. ‘86, baby!” he declared, raising his glass of water in a toast.

“‘86, baby!” Lilith repeated, raising her glass to meet his.

“What about you?” he asked as they flopped back onto the sofa.

“I thought I was going to graduate and hop back on the first flight out of here and get back to the band but… I don’t know anymore,” she thought aloud.

“You’re thinking about quitting the band?” he asked.

“No, no, I’ll never leave the Queens. I just think I might stick around in Hawkins and visit them instead,” Lilith answered.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked with an air of hope in his voice.

“Honestly… My aunt’s cooking. My mom can’t cook for shit,” she laughed, “plus, what would the likes of Robin, Steve and yourself do without me?” she smirked.

“Boathouse, now,” Eddie declared, grabbing the walkie-talkie and running out the door. Lilith followed in a hurry. They watched from the window as a black Chevrolet pulled up. Jason, Patrick, and the rest of the basketball team got out of the truck with weapons in their hands.

“Shit, shit, shit” Eddie muttered.

“The walkie. Use the walkie,” she told him.

“Hey, Dustin, you there? It’s Eddie. You remember me, right?” he asked through gritted teeth. Silence. “Hey, uh, if anyone’s there, I really think we might be in a bit of trouble here,” he said. More silence. “Wheeler? Anybody?!” he asked frantically, hitting the walkie-talkie out of frustration.

It was dark out now, they’d been hiding out in the boathouse for over an hour. They peeked through the window every now and again only to find that Jason and his friends were still ransacking the entire cabin in search of them.

“Dustin. Please. Are… are you there?” he asked. Silence. Eddie ran to the center of the room and pulled the tarpaulin from the boat. “Get in,” he instructed, grabbing an oar. Lilith did as she was instructed while Eddie untied the boat and gave it a push start before jumping in to join her before rowing them into the lake.

“This is bad. This is really bad,” Lilith muttered under her breath, her growing breathing increasingly faster.

“Hey, freak!” a voice yelled. Their heads spun around to find Jason and Patrick standing at the edge of the lake. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shit,” Eddie said to nobody in particular. He lunged towards the motor and tried frantically to get it started.

“Eddie, they’re getting in…” she told him, panic in her voice.

“Come on!” he cried in desperation, tugging at the power cord repeatedly. “Nope? Okay. Alright,” he gave up.

“Eddie…”

He grabbed the oar and rowed frantically. Jason was catching them up now. There was barely a meter between them. Eddie stood up and began to swing the oar around. “Stay back, man. Stay back!”

Jason turned around to face Patrick who was looking into the distance. “Come on, we almost have him!” he yelled, but he didn’t get a response. “Hey, Patrick… Patrick… Patrick!”

Lilith’s blood ran cold and a shudder ran down her spine. Something was… wrong. Her stomach began to churn. Her nightmares flashed through her mind as she realised what was wrong. This was how she felt any time the creature was near. Eddie glanced over at Lilith and his eyes narrowed. He’d seen that look in her eyes before. Pure terror. Both of their heads spun around to face the sound of splashing water that had grabbed their attention.

Patrick’s body flew out of the water and into the air. Lilith couldn’t do anything except watch in horror as history repeated itself right in front of her eyes. Eddie stumbled and fell backward into the water. Her eyes were transfixed on Patrick’s body. He hung there, eyes glazed over, lifeless. His limbs cracked in the same order as Chrissy’s; arms, legs, then jaw. Jason let out a scream as Patrick’s eyes sucked back into his head before his body fell back into the water with an almighty splash.

“We’ve got to go,” Eddie told her, snapping her back to reality. Lilith blinked rapidly and recomposed herself, looking towards Eddie. He was treading water a few feet away from the boat, the dim reflection of the pale moonlight leaving his facial features only marginally distinguishable. “Henderson, come on!” he snapped.

Without thinking, Lilith leapt from the boat to join Eddie. The cold water washing over her mixed with the adrenaline pumping through her veins left Lilith feeling like she could move a mountain if she tried hard enough. They set off in an instant with no words exchanged or second glances at the horror they’d just witnessed; all they cared about was getting the hell away from it. Coughing and spluttering, Lilith clambered out of the lake and joined Eddie once more. They turned their gaze back to Jason for a few seconds. He was still in the water, crying and screaming for Patrick.

Eddie grabbed Lilith’s hand and gave it a slight tug indicating to her that, once again, it was time to run.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x fem oc #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things fic #fanfic #the shire is burning #tsib

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tin-town · 22 days

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Welcome to Tin Town!

Here's all you need to know about us!

...

Tin Town is an independent multimedia art project created for digital platforms; a thematic collection of art, literature, comics, and music, among other things!

Every addition tells the story of four characters in an industrial yet decaying future, threatened by an imminent catastrophe!

They must embark on a mission to save the world and, most importantly, break free from their old lives in the name of adventure!

What can we say? It's just another story about a group of friends saving the world!

Or is it?

...

Now, let's take a look at our beloved characters! Starting with...

Jen!

Feisty, amiable, and bearer of genuine sincerity. Her bubbly attitude makes her the heart that binds the team together, and her fiery passion makes her someone who always strives for the better! Though it is well said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions...

Ted!

The calm anchor amidst chaos; cordial and serene. His honorable character brings a soothing flow and balance, making him the dependable foundation of the group. Don’t take him for granted, however! He’s not your everyday teddy bear and can really pack a punch!

Ivy!

Decisive and down-to-earth; her low-key nature and spot-on observations make her the master key of the bunch. With an unwavering focus, she keeps her promises to heart and will do anything to see them fully accomplished, although the means taken can be... unconventional.

And... Kev!

A spunky, spirited firecracker that is sure to be your partner-in-crime! Exuding spontaneity everywhere he goes, he's a wildcard among his peers. Even so, he often finds himself stuck in a whirlwind of his own, so he may need a helping hand every now and then.

...

A little more about Tin Town:

Tin Town arises from a deep dissatisfaction with the current state of society and the life-consuming exhaustion that comes with being part of it.

Tin Town is also a wide compound of various references and interests! Art-wise, it takes heavy inspiration from retro-futurism, which helps further enhance the commentary on industrialization.

In the same way, we draw inspiration from surrealism and op-art, as it forces us to find new, unconventional ways to portray our vision.

More contemporary references include internet projects like Homestuck, which also rely on multimedia storytelling.

Most importantly, Tin Town originates from the love that comes with being human, the feeling that there’s more to life than what it seems to offer, and the experience of fighting in the name of life in a world where everything seems to fall apart.

...

So, if you managed to read to this point, we invite you to stick around to see what we've got in store! Tin Town optimally relies on public engagement, and it can only reach its full potential with your help!

These are our socials in which we may upload:

▪︎ @/tin.town on TikTok

▪︎ @/tin-town on Tumblr (You are here!)

▪︎ @/tintownofficial on YouTube

▪︎ @/TinTownOfficial on Twitter

Likes, reblogs, and overall interactions are highly encouraged to help us know that you're interested in our vision!

Thanks for reading, and see you later on!

With love, Tin Town.

🖤

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man-down-in-hatchet-town · 4 months

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🙏 CALL FOR ARTISTS/WRITERS/MUSICIANS IN THE TIN CAN FAM 🙏

As many of you might be aware, the Tinlightenment Kickstarter is currently a little halfway over, but only 40% funded. This is... not great. While we'll definitely pick up some steam towards the end, that won't be enough to carry us past the finish line unless we get to a pretty good place before then. And the third quarter of kickstarters can be notoriously slow.

As such, I'm launching two projects fueled by fan-generated backer rewards to help encourage more pledges.

Project One is going to be a collected list of all artists/writers/musicians/ect. willing to do a small project (a request-style drawing, a drabble, a jingle, etc.) for anyone who dms them proof that they either have just pledged a certain amount, or else just upped their pledge by that number. Each creator will get to choose the dollar amount for themselves, and is invited to do so based on evaluation of the time and effort they will put into each individual request, but the typical price seems to be five dollars. If you are already doing this, please let me know and I'll add you to the list. If you're interested in starting, DM me and we can chat details and I'll add you to the list as well. To be clear, you will not be asked to make a project for every single person--just those who specifically reach out to you with a request.

But if multiple smaller projects isn't really your style and you'd rather contribute a singular, larger piece, no worries! I direct you to...

Project Two, a SWEEPSTAKES GIVEAWAY! Essentially, anyone who sends me proof that they've just pledged/upped their pledge by five bucks will be entered into a giveaway sweepstakes (submissions not yet open). While the grand prize will be any item from the StarCanWrecked merch shops, I would love to offer some other fan generated prizes as well. @booigi-boi has agreed to offer a free head-shot commission as a prize, and I would be over the moon to get even more artists, musicians, or writers involved. So if you'd be happy to give away one free commission as part of this prize pool, please DM me! I'd be happy to discuss details and get you added to this second list.

(Depending on the success of this little endeavor, I would like to use it as a work-out-the-kinks dry run for a similar fundraising event for Palestine that I would hold a month or two down the road (after American tax season). If you're not interested in helping TCB but would be interested in such a charity drive, please get in touch as well!)

(All DMs should be sent to man-down-in-hatchet-town)

Even if you aren't an artist/willing to participate, reblogs are GREATLY appreciated to help spread the word!

Now let's get FUNDRAISING!

🙏 TCB WITH YOU! 🙏

#tin can bros #tin can brothers #tinlightenment #spies are forever #solve it squad #wayward guide #wwgftue #wayward guide for the untrained eye #joey richter #lauren lopez #brian rosenthal #corey lubowich

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salvadorbonaparte · 5 months

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2023 in Films

I watched way too many films this year. Here are my opinions on some of them

January

Las Cosas Del Querer (1989) - Amazing if you love sad hot people and flamenco

Canadian Bacon (1995) - Incredibly silly and Alan Alda plays the US president

Nope (2022) - A highlight of the year

February

Hellraiser (1987) - This film is actually about miscommunication in this essay I will-

Predestination (2014) - Time Travel and Gender Moments

Malignant (2021) - Camp horror masterwork

Late Phases (2014) - Mediocre werewolf film with some really interesting comments on ageism, ableism, suburbia and religion

March

Sterne (1959) - Plays into some problematic stereotypes from today's perspective but revolutionary for its time, first German film to address the Holocaust

Major League (1989) - A film I only watched to confirm that it uses a weird phrase I also found in my thesis project

Carry On Screaming (1966) - Camp. Gay. Horror. Parody.

Glen or Glenda (1953) - A product of its time and no longer up to date in its understanding of gender but surprisingly revolutionary in its compassion and earnestness despite the bad reviews

April

Taxi Driver (1976) - Isn't it frustrating when annoying people tell you a film is good and then it's actually good?

June

Mr Deeds Goes To Town (1936) - Mr Deeds has autism swag

El Espíritu de la Colmena (1973) - I really wanted to like this because civil war era Spain and Frankenstein are super up my alley but unfortunately it was so much slower than expected

Das Boot (1981) - Very long and claustrophobic but holds up to the hype

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (2022) - RIP King

July

Nimona (2023) - His big wet eyes bewitched me

First Blood (1982) - You're telling me the film is about Americans fighting an enemy they view as simultaneously weak and dangerous, escalating the situation, and then sending more and more men into a rainforest to die through guerilla warfare after being warned again and again they can't win this? sounds familiar

Barbie (2023) - Insert a bunch of pink emojis

Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022) - Made me crave bagels

Jojo Rabbit (2019) - God I love war satires

Sweet Liberty (1986) - Alan Alda having fun and also using his own film as a therapy session

The Majestic (2001) - A rewatch but it's so tragically underrated, Jim Carrey is very good in dramatic roles and McCarthy-era media is like catnip for me

Joker (2019) - This is just Taxi Driver with extra steps

August

Tin & Tina (2023) - Probably one of the worst films I have seen in a while

Battle of the Sexes (2017) - I love women

Four Lions (2010) - The ending really got me, I love when satire gets serious

The Sheriff and the Satellite Kid (1979) - Can we talk about how the theme song is just going "I'm the sheriff" "yes you're the sheriff"

Happiness (1998) - Nauseating but in a "good film but what the fuck" way

They Call Him Bulldozer (1978) - Italian Lagaan

The Talented Mr Ripley (1999) - Sad and Gay

Twister (1996) - So much better than expected

Magnolia (1999) - Cloudy with a chance of frogs, a really long but really good film and I'm not entirely sure I got it

Doubt (2008) - Somehow I watched 5 films with Philip Seymour Hoffman that month because I was haunted by his ghost or something

September

The Terminal (2004) - I assumed this to be more of a classic romcom but the whole concept (based on a true story) is so terrifying and tragic that it made me feel all emotions at once

Apocalypse Now (1979) - I knew a lot of trivia about the film but for some reason I didn't know anything about the cast so every single actor was a surprise and made me go "!!!", Also I kinda wanna write an essay about it

October

Bloodbath at the House of Death (1984) - Some of the gay jokes absolutely killed me

Last Night in Soho (2021) - I'm Not Like the Other Girls to Time Travel Murder Nightmare Pipeline, actually I really enjoyed this one but it's also super silly

The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) - How do you say poor little meow meow in gaeilge

The Menu (2022) - I go to the murder restaurant I order the beesechurger, I was super surprised there's no cannibalism but tbh that would have been low hanging fruit

The Eyes of Tammy Faye (2021) - Explains a lot about religion in the US, I love that she was pro lgbt, also I googled her ex husband and he has a prepper/survivalist thing going on now and scams more people

The Darjeeling Limited (2007) - we can't eat pray love ourselves out of this one boys

Holes (2003) - Hated the book as a teenager for school reasons but gave the film a try and really enjoyed it

Renfield (2023) - I expected werewolves but I enjoyed it nevertheless, My Chemical Romance is on the soundtrack, it's very silly, the effects are great

Interview with the Vampire (1994) - Oh people weren't lying about it being homoerotic

The Big Lebowski (1998) - I've had days that feel like that

November

Pappa ante Portas (1991) - Funnier now that I'm an adult, basically half the jokes my mum makes are from this film

The Meg 2: The Trench (2023) - I watched this while sick and really wanted to see a giant shark fight a giant octopus and boy did it deliver

Puss in Boots: The Last Wish (2022) - Very nice animation style

JFK (1991) - I actually fell asleep halfway through because it's so long but can we talk about how this film is just A-listers but has some of the worst wigs and makeup I've seen

Bottoms (2023) - A spiritual sequel to Heathers

December

When Harry Met Sally (1989) - They deserve each other (derogatory) but that one restaurant scene was pretty funny

The Royal Nanny (2022) - one of the many Hallmark films my mum made me watch and this is perhaps the worst one, incredibly sexist even for a Hallmark film and they clearly mean Mi5 but say Mi7 which was a WW2 propaganda service? Also they really want me to believe there is a British prince called Colin and that he doesn't look like his family tree is a circle?

I forgot the title but there was also the one where two people get stuck in a time loop while trying to make a sponsored youtube video about baking and I didn't really pay attention much but man that was bad

#film log #films #2023 in films #this is mostly just my letterboxd review lmao

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