#(well technically they BOTH need to go to work)

[strawberrystepmom]

nsfw. dante x f!reader. established relationship, mentions of jealousy (dante toward reader), prone bone, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, orgasms..multiple. | wc: 1.9k.

“I swear to God you owe me an orgasm for every time you pissed me off tonight, Dante.”

“And just how many times was that, sweet thing?”

Doing what he does best, the man to whom you’ve sworn your heart crowds the little doorway of the bathroom. His shoulders are broader than the door even while he’s leaning against its frame, one arm dangling at his side and the other pressed against the wooden frame to cage you beneath him.

You glare up at him – cold as ice. 

”Do not do that right now,” you begin only to be brought to a stop by the unwavering stance of your beloved.  

Still as a statue, Dante remains in the doorway, blocking your exit with his hand wrapped around the frame. 

“Answer the question.”

Unable to hide your apparent annoyance any longer, a humorless laugh escapes and you look away wide eyed. 

“I stopped counting after six.” 

You turn to face him again, mouth half open and eyes narrowed. There is no possible way he isn’t aware of how poorly he acted. Unfortunately, you also know him well enough to know that’s exactly why he brought it back up. 

He’s working toward an apology and you aren’t quite sure if you even want it yet. 

Grabbing a clip off of the shelf closest to the bathroom sink, you tie your hair away from your face and attempt to push past him.  

“You can have the bed tonight. I'll sleep on the couch.”

Stopping you in your tracks with a gentle grasp on each of your arms, Dante frowns. 

“You can sleep in the bed and I’ll sleep in it next to you, how about that?”

Attempting to shake him off, you point a finger toward his chest.  “You need to learn how to handle your jealousy productively.”

Scoffing, his jaw slackens.

“Have you seriously convinced yourself that I’m jealous of any of those people?”

Shaking your head, you raise your eyebrows defiantly. “If you're going to continue to be an ass Dante, go home.”

“Well here I am,” he snarks back, holding his arms out widely.

“Oh you think you’re so damn cl–” 

Stopped when his lips press against yours, the entirety of your body is wrapped up in his before you can realize what’s happening. Large arms hold you against his chest, big, calloused palms cupping the soft cheeks of one remarkably angry woman – remarkable only because it’s so unlike you to be angry. 

Pausing the kiss, Dante mumbles against your mouth while attempting to nip at your lower lip just how you like. 

“Let me make it up to you.”

Frustration rises in the back of your throat, still itching to argue with him about how he acted earlier in the evening. An argument forms on your tongue, lips parting to let it free. Almost as if he senses it, Dante kisses you again, hands sliding from your face to your sides and settling on your ribs, thumbs dancing just below your covered breasts.

So familiar with the space that is technically yours even if he spends so much time in it, he holds you against him while he guides both of your bodies away from the bathroom and toward the living room. As soon as the backs of his legs hit the couch, he slumps down atop it and pulls you into his lap, never breaking the intense kiss. Your tongue slick against one another, soft moans spilling out and stopping against the other’s lips. 

No words need to be exchanged right now. The two of you are so familiar with the other’s body that he could undress you with his eyes closed and still get it right the first time, fabric sliding over your head and being tossed to the floor behind you. You rock softly in his lap, the muscle of his thigh taut and flexed to give you something to rut against. His greedy lips trail away from yours and down your chin and throat and neck, a trail of fire from your mouth to your core left behind.

“Dante,” you whine, uncertain of what, exactly, you want.

A less aroused part of you wants to remind him that he was a real asshole for no reason tonight but her voice gets quieter and quieter in the back of your head with each drag of your hips and the friction it brings. Wordlessly, he caresses your torso with his fingers, dipping them beneath the waistband of your panties. The grinding motion has dragged your slick from your needy hole to your clit, the essence of you covering his finger when he runs it through your slit. 

Even that pesky aroused part of you won’t give in quite so easily.

Any other time by this point, you’d be nearly coming undone. Sometimes the simple act of being so outspokenly adored and wanted by him is enough to nearly drive you to the edge of euphoria, eyes rolling back in your head so all it takes is a few well placed touches to drench his fingers in your release.

Tonight, though, you aren’t ready to give him that satisfaction. His fingers begin toying with your clit, sliding between your pussy and panties, giving you direct contact to his skin. The grip you have over your mind right now is ironclad, refusing to give into the temptation to let go now that he’s got you. 

You do not stifle your moans, rather tipping your head toward the ceiling and stopping fewer of them as the tip of his finger slides inside of you. He gasps, clearly overcome with his own fight to stay in his right mind.

“Can feel how close you are already,” he marvels quietly, sinking his finger in until his second knuckle is enveloped in your warmth. “Gonna make a mess for me, gorgeous?”

Looking down at him, you shake your head. 

He raises his brows, surprised. “No?” He asks, pulling his finger completely out of you in one fell swoop. 

You gasp, muscles clenching futilely now that you’ve been left empty. This weakens your resolve to make him wait the slightest bit, bottom lip twitching in irritation until you feel your hole stretch again, this time around two of his fingers instead of one.

“There we go, I know that’ll do it.”

Sinking both fingers to the second knuckle, you writhe while his wrist flexes and his fingers move, hips naturally matching his rhythm. The pressure is intense, building behind your stomach and slowly becoming more intense with every thoughtful move he makes. Your body refuses to tense and relax; to drench his fingers and hand in you. 

Dante knows this game well and he ratchets the pressure higher, fingers methodically pressing against the spot he knows gets the reaction he’s craving so badly. He feels you twitch in response, thighs spasming, stopping just short of finishing.

Without warning, he withdraws his fingers completely. You protest, yelping more when he slides out from underneath you and situates you onto your belly beneath him, sliding a pillow beneath your hips to prop them upward. Your ass is fully exposed to him, wet pussy facing the cool, open air. Naturally, you move to arch your back and wag your hips in the air but you’re stopped by a hand keeping you pressed against the couch.

He must really be sorry if he’s going straight to being as close as possible. 

Draping his body over yours, Dante’s chest keeps you pinned on your stomach. Your pussy 

welcomes him with open arms when his tip slides into its eager, waiting warmth. Slowly, he drags his hips in and out of you to set a pace, gradually picking it back up. His breaths are stuttered, chest heaving against your back.

“I’m, fuck…you feel so good.” 

He speaks through gritted teeth, thumb sliding over your throat while his palm supports it. The back of your head is pressed against his chest, your body being jerked with each strong thrust of his hips. Every bit of you is beneath him, curled and bent and at his mercy, his head just above your ear.

"I'm s-sorry for being an ass tonight.”

And he was, wasn’t he? All surly sighs and displeased, sarcastic smirks while you assured him several times he could leave whenever worked best for him. He was the one who decided to tag along, after all, to a boring old network dinner filled with hungry eyed men unworthy of being in your presence.

Dante isn’t so convinced he’s earned the honor either so he begs for forgiveness, hoping this won’t be the one time you’re stingy with it. He continues to apologize using his lips and his cock, tongue brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You didn’t deserve it tonight and you don’t deserve it ever again.”

Your cunt twitches around his shaft, body finally overwhelmed and overriding the control you’ve had over it since he first kissed you. 

Time has fallen away completely, all that remains now is him and you. The sound of the cars passing by outside the window and the slick of your lips touching and his moans of pleasure and your name when he follows right after you, sinking himself as deeply as possible to fill you to the brim fills the room.

No complaining neighbors yet but the night is young. 

Panting softly, your eyes flutter open to give you a glimpse of the man you love face to face.

“Really made me work for that one, huh?” 

Dante chuckles, gently and expertly maneuvering your exhausted body so that you are on your back with your legs spread and pushed up toward your chest. He fills the empty space between them with his broad body, hands falling to your hips and thumbs digging in. 

“We have five more to go, sweetheart. I was a bad, bad boy tonight, remember?” 

You groan, exhausted. Too tired to argue and way too tired to fight back, the note of displeasure quickly turns into a symphony of pitchy moans when he buries one of his fingers inside of your warm pussy, pushing the thick release oozing out of your hole back into you. 

“I have a feeling these ones will be much easier,” he goads, curling his finger to brush it against every spot that makes your hips jerk. “You’re already so wet and warm and…” He trails off, exhaling sharply through his nose.

Your body responds by clenching around his finger, holding it in place while a second, sharp orgasm washes through every fiber of your being, your body holding his finger inside and refusing to let it go until the pleasure has subsided.

“Oh, I didn’t think it’d be that easy.” 

Once again hard – crown of him blushing and hot and replacing his finger to be swiped through your sticky, sodden folds – Dante leans down to plant his hand on the other side of your head, his girth slowly slipping back inside of you.

“Four more for my girl.”  His voice is low and raspy in your ear, his hair tickling your face. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you smile up at him, locking your ankles around his hips and throwing your arms around his neck. The once righteous anger you were filled with has subsided into a pleasant afterglow, leaving you strangely warmed by the knowledge that you are so adored he’s willing to act out when he feels what belongs to him is being threatened.

A better woman wouldn’t be so turned on by this. 

But it is you, so another round of wetness seeps from between your legs, adding to the syrupy slick mess that has already been made. Dante smirks, sinking himself to the hilt and biting his lower lip in a sight so sinful you almost wonder if you shouldn’t have raised the number of times he made you mad to eight.

[the-fibre-stuff]

So @urhokraftila was asking me about knitting lace without all the useful stitch marker hacks that people suggest (that I'm sure are very helpful, but increase the fussiness of the project by 200% minimum), and I figured maybe I didn't want to derail the original post any further.

Unfortunately step zero may well be to have a large working memory. I really don't know how much I'm abusing it for this, because I never know. I'm fairly sure that it's not just about doing that.

First trick is fairly easy: instead of having to mark RS/WS of your work with a locking stitch marker, just pay attention to which side your cast on tail is. While in theory you can just logic it out once you're 6 rows in, you want to pay attention. Especially the first few times. (I still hate having to figure it out from that).

Second trick isn't so much a trick as something that you'll probably consider really obvious: be careful what you're doing at the same time as the lace. You may need to start off with just doing the lace (it'll help you pick up these other tricks). I generally don't read while doing fancy lace, because I do like to be able to look at the knitting a bit more (and I need to glance at the chart if it's more complex).

Next up, to get the hang of this, start with something with small repeats. And, and I know this will sound counterintuitive, consider something that's patterned every row. If you need a break do a round of plain sock in between rows of lace. Yes, you will have to do that much more patterning, but a) any mistake you find won't be as far back because there's no plain row in between and b) it's a lot easier to place what you're doing relative to the previous row if the previous row is literally the previous one, and not "the row I knit before I knit this plain row".

When I was making my Shetland lace stole recently I shocked a lot of people by bringing it to Stitch Social at my LYS, but I had no trouble with that *until* I got to the edging, which had effectively plain rows (aside from the bit at the join) in between the pattern rows. I could not keep track of where I was in that *and* a conversation.

I'm fairly sure that this way of working is a lot easier with charts. I'm not going to say it requires them, because I keep finding people on Knitblr who can do what I thought was impossible, and maybe you're a lot better at visualizing stuff than I am.

The actual trick is that I'm registering my work off of the previous row, not on the absolute numbers. (Yes, use the absolute numbers. If you're not counting as you knit you discover 5 rows in that you had 8 stitches in that one section, not 9, and it's now a problem, but that's your double check. I guess technically you can work by the numbers and check by the previous work.) So if I know I'm working an increasing diamond then after I do my k5, I know that the k2tog will line up with the decrease from the previous row, and my yfwd will leave a hole right before the one in the previous row. Use a chart (or modify your chart) that gives stitch counts for large rows of plain knit (or purl) so that you're not constantly having to count that, and you shouldn't have to do that much more than glance at the chart to see what you're doing next.

Yes, sometimes there's a "shit, that number didn't work out" and either I figure out what mistake I just made or else do a repair to the row below (like I said, easier with patterning every row, and not just because then you can feel the different stitches rather than having to look at them), but you avoid both accidentally knitting the tail of your scrap yarn stitch marker into your work, and dropping the fancy boughten stitch marker off your needle when you get to it. (I tried putting stitch markers between repeats when I did my ring shawl. It's how I know it's a pain. I don't follow instructions that closely anymore if I know I won't like them.)

[rogerswifesblog]

- chapter 9 -

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

A/N: Hi! Tbh I don’t even know if anyone still appreciates an update here but I don’t want to leave it unfinished so…technically you can see this as the end, but I’ll probably write some more chapters. I just don’t know yet when I’ll update this again but I hope it won’t take me so long anymore, sorry 😫 I’m thinking about either leaving it with Steve x mer or actually making it a trouple;) Well, I don’t know what else to say. I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter if you decide to give it a go<3

18+

Warnings: intimacy, emotional vulnerability, mating bond, soft sensuality, slight fantasy biology?, Mer is a mermaid which we know so…yeah., sexual content but not smutty? More intimate? And not as explicit, but still p in v just briefly described, biting for mating, scenting, just…I don’t know, it’s not normal sex okay? Be warned.

Pairing: Steve rogers x mermaid reader

The first thing you noticed when Steve opened the door was the bushy addition on his face. You couldn’t surely remember how the humans called it in their language, but It immediately made you think of Bucky, Thor and Tony. They all had it too. Steve’s was new. He had a clean face before.

A grin crept onto your lips as you stood up on your tippy toes and placed both of your palms at his cheeks, cupping his face. He looked so cute. The hair was slightly soft and also a bit rough. It scratched your skin lightly, making you giggle.

“Mer?��, only then did you notice how broken Steve seemed. His voice was quiet, rough. As if he hadn’t talked in a while or was close to tears. Maybe both.

Scratch the second part. Your hands were wet from Steve’s tears. Why was he sad? Wasn’t he happy to see you? But you could swear you had felt how much he had missed you-you had missed him too. “Why Steve sad?”, you asked quietly.

He opened his mouth to say something but a sob escaped his lips as he pulled you in a tight hug. “I thought-I thought you were gone. That I wouldn’t see you ever again-god, I missed you so so much”, he whispered in your wet hair.

It felt good to have you in his arms again. Feeling your body against his own. Steve had missed this the most. The hugs, the exchange of comfort, your body temperature, your hands grabbing onto his shirt and how you held onto him for dear life.

God, he was so scared he’d never have this again-unless

Was this just a dream? Did he just fall asleep in front of the fireplace? Did all the thinking made him dream about you?

This wouldn’t be the first time either. Steve had dreams about this many times. About seeing you again. Having you in his arms. Hearing your laugh. Feeling you nuzzle your face- “Steve? Why not say anything?”, your quiet voice rumbled against his chest, as you tried to look up at him but he was holding you so close you couldn’t move much.

A wet chuckle escaped his lips. Maybe it wasn’t real but he’d enjoy every second of it.

“I wish we’d had more time before you had left me-“ “I’m here now. I stay with Steve for longer and then go visit my family again”, you interrupted him, pushing him gently away.

He let you do it, feeling a bit confused. This didn’t feel like a dream. It felt weirdly real-but it couldn’t be, could it? How did you find him then? Was the alcohol getting to him? Once again he even started to believe in losing the serum. Did it stop working?

“But…how is it possible? Wait-let’s go inside-,” he pulled you into the cabin after realizing you were both still standing on the porch with the door wide open. For many reasons he’d rather be inside. Especially because he didn’t want to let you go. Fuck hydra or any other opponents, he just didn’t want to loose you all over again.

After a few minutes you two were sitting on the couch, with Steve touching you every chance he could get, even just a little bit like brushing his knuckles over your scaled hands. You were really here.

“My family needed me, so I stay, hunt partner gone…missing? Needed to find. Took long but I missed Steve, missed home”, you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling your nose against his neck, nibbling gently at the skin there. “Steve home.”

And that’s when it hit him.

All the time you hadn’t talked about going home-all this time you had tried to tell him that HE was your home. Why? Were you feeling the same way? Were you also…in love with him? Could Mermaids fall in love? With a human? Your partner wasn’t a lover but for hunting? Fuck. He hadn’t understood half of the things you had tried to tell him when you had been back at the compound.

Holy shit. All this time you were affectionate because you actually liked him.

He had so many questions. But before he could ask them you pushed your head harder into his neck, clearly unhappy when Steve didn’t appreciate it enough.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he pulled you onto his lap. He had missed your weird affectionate touches. It still troubled him to understand everything you were doing, but when your hand slowly pushed his shirt up, he understood you wanted it off. Not knowing why, but he wouldn’t question your needs. He had learned it the hard way once, never again.

So he pulled it over his head, throwing it to the side. “Bushy here too”, you giggled, brushing your hand over his chest hair, making Steve grin. You hadn’t seen him shirtless before.

He had missed you so incredibly much. The way you talked and the little things you noticed that were so normal to him, yet you showed him how different everything for you and him was.

You were from two completely different worlds, yet reunited because….of love? Steve knew you had fallen for you, but still wasn’t sure about your feelings.

“Steve…”, your gentle whisper made him look up at you, as you had climbed onto his lap fully. “Be my mate.”

For a short second Steve once again thought he was dreaming. Mate? He knew it meat lover but…forever, more committed that just a simple relationship.

“You want me to be your mate?” “Of course Steve. I just said”, you nuzzled your nose gently against his neck. “You are mate…we…eh, connected. Like funny phone to big car for music”, it really was hard for him not to laugh at that.

He had missed you limited vocabulary, the funny and sometimes weird sentences-just like this one. But he understood. Party. At least enough to make him understand why he saw so many of your memories.

You two were connected.

He swallowed, not wanting his voice to crak as he agreed. “I…yes. Yes, god, yes. I want to be your mate forever…”, he mumbled, immediately being pushed onto the couch in a lying position while your nails scratched his arms. He definitely didn’t expect to be jumped by you like a tree-literally.

When you wanted to open his pants he held your hands. “Wait-we should talk first-“ “why talk? We together again-want you, Steve”, he felt himself blush at your words. To you it seemed so simple. So…intuitive. Maybe that’s exactly how it should be? Just let himself go. stop over complicating everything. Just be.

“let’s go to the bedroom”, he whispered, being a bit nervous anyway.

You furrowed your eyebrows, wanting to mate with him as soon as possible to never let him go, but if he liked being in a different room you’d let him do whatever would make him more comfortable.

A little squeak escaped your lips as Steve picked you up and carried you to the bedroom. On the way there you nuzzled your nose into his neck, imagining sinking your teeth in the flesh there.

When he let you down on the bed, his hands slowly roamed over your waist down to the hem of the long shirt that you were wearing. With a quick motion it was on the floor, the too big shorts you were wearing followed.

With that you were naked.

Steve swallowed.

Once.

Twice.

He hadn’t been close to a woman in…well…quite the time.

Especially not a woman like you. A mermaid. Soft glimmer of your scales, covering your arms, partly your legs, up along your stomach and breasts. He was pretty sure you had them on your back, too.

You were so…

Different.

You were a mythical creature. Something humans never knew existed.

And yet here you were, in his arms, his mate. His lover.

A nervous smile crept on his lips as he gently pushed you to lay down, before climbing over you. One of his hands brushed along your arms to your shoulder and neck,

With the other one he held himself up next to your head. “You’re beautiful”, the man whispered, pressing his lips gently to yours in a soft kiss.

You returned the kiss with a soft hum, fingertips ghosting up his bare chest, tracing the contours of his warmth, the bit of hair there…his humanity. Things mermen didn’t have.

But then you did something that made Steve freeze-pressing your face to the crook of his neck, gills fluttering open against his skin. It wasn’t new for you to press your gills or face to his neck-but never like that. Never letting them flutter open, completely vulnerable.

Steve could feel the moisture of them, delicate like a sea flower blooming against his throat. It was a sensation unlike anything he’d ever known-soft and electric, intimate in a way deeper than touch.

You didn’t seem to notice his shock, letting your hands push down his pants, till he kicked them off onto the floor. A happy hum escaped your throat as your hand brushed over his hard cock, still clothed but twitching at the gentle touch.

“Want you Steve”, you whispered, already getting rid of his underwear. The corners of your lips twitched at your eagerness and he leaned over you, his hard cock brushing against your thigh. A gasp escaped his lips as he felt the cold scaled against his most sensitive skin. Soft, but cold. Different.

“I want you too sweetheart”, he kissed lowered his lips to your gills, kissing them. You shivered beneath him, a soft, keening sound rising in your throat. It felt so good being kissed and touched there.

You shifted under him, wrapping your hand around his hardness before guiding him into your wetness, sighing as he pushed into you.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from moaning, his body trembling a little bit. It felt different than with any partner before.

You were cool inside. Tight and wet, with a slow, yielding rhythm that moved like the tide. Steve groaned, gripping the sheets beside your head, trying not to lose himself too fast. Everything about this felt sacred. Too much, too good. Still feeling like a dream. He felt lost already.

Your body wrapped around his, your nails digging into his back, not to hurt-but to hold. You met his movements with instinctive rhythm, hips rising to his in gentle pulses. Not rushed. Just two beings becoming one.

It was connection. Mating.

When you leaned into his neck again, he gasped, your gills fluttering wildly as you moaned against his skin, your sharp teeth grazing his skin. Steve’s whole body shivered.

He didn’t know why but something inside him made him push into your touch more, into your teeth, asking for it. Wanting it.

So you let your teeth sink into his flesh. Not harsh. Not to hurt him. But enough for him to feel it and have the skin break-your teeth pressing into skin, anchoring yourself to him. He gasped, body jerking, as a strange, warm tingling pulsed outward from where your bite sank in. It wasn’t painful. He wasn’t scared.

It was….comforting. It felt right,

it was right.

“You are mine”, you whispered into his ear, kissing below his ear, down to his neck and over the tingling mark.

But you weren’t finished. Your claws dragged slowly down his back, then to his arms and along them, scratching his skin. Not deep. Just enough to raise his blood to the surface, to leave him tingling. Marked. Claimed. It felt just like with the beat. No fear, only comfort.

He dropped his head against your shoulder, “I’m yours, forever”, he gasped, his body feeling on fire-in a good way.

Steve’s lungs were filled with a unknown smell, like sea but sweeter and…”do you smell that?”, he whispered, making you press his face closer to your neck. “Me…mate”, you didn’t know how to explain it with your limited words. Explain to him that this is your scent, only for your mate to feel.

It grew stronger with your pleasure which Steve noticed, making him crave it more, but also bringing him closer to his own high. It made him dizzy, his grip on you tightening.

Steve kissed you then, desperate and tender, his hand cradling your cheek like you were something precious. And maybe you were-something not quite of this world, but his all the same.

When you finally fell still beneath him, reaching your high, gills fluttering with each shallow breath, you pulled him close and pressed his face to the spot where your scent lingered strongest-along your collarbone, behind your ear, at your gills.

It’s all Steve needed to reach his high, so intense he couldn’t hold himself anymore, letting you carry his weigh, which you didn’t seem to mind, wrapping your arms and legs around him, putting and clicking quietly, happy.

Thank you for reading! I hope you like it. Please let me know by reblogging and giving feedback! It makes a writer (me) very happy

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[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest 2025 - Day 21 - Clerks

Summary: Eddie graduates...and does nothing else with his life. But maybe it's not too late...

Word Count: 990

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Existentialism, Meaning in the Mundane, Overcoming Expectations

Note: The first person I thought of when I saw this prompt was @courtingchaos so this one is for her first and foremost. I love you. Are we Randal and Dante? Or Jay and Silent Bob. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe we are the Silent Bob to each other's Dante, and we both tell each other that not everyone gets lasagna served to them...

Secondly, and I could be wrong, but I always liked that every character in Clerks sucks. Even the weird rando one-offs, and is kind of stuck, and I feel like for every Rockstar AU or ones where he makes a life for himself, there also need to be some where he realistically does not do shit. Like many young people with ambitions so big, theres actually no drive or ambition at all. Maybe at the end of this, he makes it big. Maybe he's still right where he was when it started...isn't that the whole point? What is the point?

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

The phone's shrill ring echoes through the Munson trailer, followed by a thud as Eddie's body rolls off the couch and onto the floor.

"Fuck," he groans and struggles to get to his hands and knees so he can answer it. The little side table where it's situated is so close, yet so far. It is a marathons distance away, and simultaneously no less than 5 feet.

Eventually he makes it there.

"Hello?" he grumbles, only to be met with Dustin's rapid words on the other end. "What?"

A few more words.

"No I don't work today. I called off."

And a few more.

"Why don't you call Steve?" A beat. "Because I'm fucking tired."

And the last five words out of Dustin's mouth were said so sharply and with finality that Eddie couldn't help but shout, "Fine." Before slamming the receiver back onto its cradle.

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the popcorn ceiling.

He wouldn't be in this mess if only he'd gone in for his shift at Quick Stop.

---

"I don't understand why you work in that shithole anyway," Dustin grumbles as he works on his project. He called Eddie over to help; Eddie is not being much help, but he realizes the free snacks are better than rotting on his couch. "I thought you and the guys were gonna hit it big after Gareth graduated.”

"Ah but hitting it big means you hit it small first and that means you need money," Eddie explains. "And money means you need a job."

"You had a job." Eddie cuts him a look and Dustin is quick to recover. "Selling weed for Reefer Rick."

"Rick's still in prison, Henderson."

"So?" Dustin shrugs. "Enterprise. Cut out the middle man. Find who sold to Rick, buy from them, sell it to the unsuspecting and uncaring stoners of Hawkins."

"Sure."

"Or you get a new job? At the mall." Theres an edge to his voice that Eddie groans at.

"The rampant consumerism, Dustin."

"Don't the other guys have jobs at the mall?"

Yes they did. Jeff at Sam Goody, Dave at Spencer's, Gareth at...well, Gareth was a serial job hopper and was at Scoops now. Who knew where he'd be next week?

And technically, Eddie did have a job at Starcourt once upon a time. He just fumbled that one hard and quit before they could fire him.

He misses it sometimes. But will not admit it.

"Do you ever think that you're getting in your own way by settling?"

"I'm not settling." Eddie shrugs.

"Do you and the guys even have band practice anymore? You're just hanging around drinking beers in Gareth's mom's garage."

The question is ignored.

"I'm sticking it to the man. I'm not going to grow up to be some corporate shill. I'm going against societal expectations."

"You're working at a shitty convenience store that you hate."

Dustin nods for Eddie to pick up the other end of the project and he hopes his older friend's silence means that he's finally reached him.

---

They drive up to Weathertop for Dustin to install some new hardware on Cerebro. Not just radio waves this time, he says. They’ll be able to broadcast video too.

“What? Are you gonna start your own private tv station?” Eddie asks.

“I could.” Dustin shrugs. “I don’t have a plan, really. This is just to see if I could do it. Not what I could do with it.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“What isn’t the point, Eddie?”

Dustin needs to focus on his installation and that gives Eddie a chance to pause and think about what his little buddy said. Not ambition for an outcome. But just to see if it could be done.

Testing one’s self. That was the whole point wasn’t it. To live? To really experience life.

He hangs his head in his hands and thinks that this level of contemplation really should be had under the influence. Who knew Dustin had that sort of depth to him?

Meanwhile, Eddie is just a puddle.

---

Eddie drives aimlessly around Hawkins after he leaves Dustin. He thinks about a mantra he heard his coworker's friend say time and again. Master of his own destiny.

And isn't that one big lie?

No one is master of their own destiny. Sometimes you were just dealt a shitty hand and you were expected to fold.

"I could try to overcome it..." he mutters to himself as he take a left down Main. "Nahhhh..."

And destiny might as well have said "wrong answer idiot." Because as he passes by the Quick Stop, he sees the gates pulled down, and a tarp taped to the front of the store with the words "I assure you, we're open" smeared on them in some black gunk.

Shoe polish? Maybe its just shit that's rotted in the sun?

And on the roof of the building? His idiot coworker is playing hockey with his buddies.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie mutters to himself.

Then it was like a sudden look in the mirror. Because Dante? Dante was just like Eddie. And Eddie hated Dante.

Destiny is a funny thing. It might be set in stone, it might be a challenge. For all intents and purposes, everything should've led Eddie to being some schmuck stuck in a dead end job with no ambitions. Not even to make himself happy.

And that's exactly where he was.

How was it sticking it to the man if he was where the man expected him to be?

Eddie's van skids to a halt on Gareth's driveway and he runs into the garage where his buddies are all, indeed, sitting around drinking beers. Just like Dustin said.

Well no more.

"Guys," he begins, but pauses.

He has to get this next sentence right or they'll never get out of this shithole that life put them in.

"What the fuck are we doing with our lives?"

[dailynakaharachuuya]

Skktober day 23: Clingy

[moeblob]

Sorry I forgot Hanneman suggested Byleth undress after they show up with a different hair color. And I miss Hanneman. And also while swapping between Houses and Hopes and seeing Hanneman pop up to help in a Hopes paralogue is just devastating since he doesn't ever actually join you at all and I am denied my old man rights.

So I had to draw this. Thank you for understanding.

[cent-scratchnsniff]

messy doodles plus with some picked ramblings with them as i process, learn, and progress. yes only some out of many. i talk far too much. i missed so much too im just too tired to talk abt those aspects rifht now

[sengoku-nadeko]

[raskies456]

I do think that if someone is accused of doing a thing and your initial reaction is “yeah I could believe it” that does tell you something

it’s just that the something is about your own perception of that person and not about the nature of the person themself

[random-chaos-and-stuff]

Silly Game Time: Who are the protagonists of two stories you really enjoy? (could be from any media: movies, shows, novels, games, comics, etc.) (yes, OCs count) AND which of them is better with animals?

You know what? I’m feeling particularly dragony today, so I’m going with Lady Trent from A Natural History of Dragons, and Princess Cimorene from the Enchanted Forest Chronicles. And though I love Cimorene a lot, and do think she’d be good with animals, Lady Trent wins, as she is a naturalist and has to actively care for and study the dragons she has, as well as the fact that she loved animals when she was younger too, and with all the time she puts into her work I feel like she would have to be good with animals. It’s shown in the books too that she’s overall pretty good with animals, especially the dragons she studies.

[dullahandyke]

'if youre looking to be secure, MFA is best' shut up + dont speak to me again + rot in hell + fuck you + fuck you again + let me turn it off or i crush you and your family with my psychic powers.

[swordmaid]

my hag romance murder mystery au turning to magistrate astarion working with executor shri’iia we kind of like that development

[an-urgent-appeal]

monitoring by deco*27 could be a soldierspy song if you just give me 12 hours and 5 cans of monster to explain

[your-local-granny]

Being critical of art is all fun and games until you are the art that is being critiqued :(

[justinefrischmanngf]

i really really really don't want to write this essay T______T but i have to ! and it'll all be over by the end of the week ! but my god i literally don't want to do it at ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ajdrawshq]

im glad that despite being on the backburner for . years. i can still think of my main aus like i never stopped :] kh on the brain forever