#I got so mad for little to no reason at her

[cheriladycl01]

I need to go! No you need to race! - Max Verstappen x SwedishOlympicHockey! Reader

Plot: You get hurt during a hockey match at the Nationals and Mad Max makes a return for all the right reasons!

Credit to mverstappenn for the GIF

Usually yours and Max's timetable linked up, you'd be training or doing your tournaments from Monday to Wednesday which Max would join you on before you left in his jet with him to wherever his race was that weekend.

But this week you had a national tournament which was on a Saturday, Sunday where Max was in the world. It was race day for him, and he was using one of the televisions to watch your tournament being streamed.

He couldn't understand any of it, where it was in Swedish so he just watched on with some of the mechanics who knew you and were rooting for you.

It was a good game and you guys were winning, absolutely tearing up the hockey field of the stadium you guys were in. Every time you scored, everyone watching cheered and Max had a big grin on his face when it zoomed in on your face yelling in a smile.

He always found it funny when you smiled as you wore a mouth guard that made your cheeks look puffy.

But things took a turn, it was about 20 minutes until the end of your game and an hour before the race started. All the mechanics were crowed around the TV watching until one of the girls in the opposing team swung their stick up, just as another tripped you up causing the base of the stick to smash into your face.

Max's hand came up to cover his mouth and 'oooooo's' flowed around from the mechanics realizing what just happened.

"Is she okay?" one of them said.

"I could hear something break!" another admitted.

Max watched as a few girls helped you to stand, but it was hard your nose was streaming blood down your face and the knock had clearly made you a little fuzzy.

Max was frowning gripping his fists as he watched the girl who hit you argue with the ref and medics who came out. She was pretty much shouting while you held your nose to try and stop the blood flow coming out.

You were escorted off the pitch and Max immediately went to his phone hounding you with messages asking if you were okay.

When that didn't work he proceeded to blow up your fathers phone who had been at the match in person and would be with you, which also didn't work.

He was so caught up with trying to get in contact with you that he didn't see Christian come up to him.

"Max?" Christian asks tentatively having heard what happened from the mechanics.

"I need to go!" Max exclaims looking up still having no word from your family on how you are doing.

"No, you need to race!" Christian says looking to his watch which showed it wasn't long before he needed to get in the car.

"I can't get in contact with her though, and what if something happens when I'm racing and she needs me!" he admits angrily raising his voice at his team principle.

"Max, calm down!" Christian says, his voice going a little gruffer.

"NO! I need to know shes okay!" he shouts and everyone can tell he's getting madder by the second. He only ever got like this when he was younger and someone crashed into him, he didn't have as well a hold on his emotions back then than he did now. But that was slowly slipping.

He was arguing back and forth with Christian until his phone rang. It was your contact number.

He didn't answer straight away frozen in shock from your number being up there.

"Schat?" he asks as he holds his phone to his ear.

"läckerbit" you tease knowing he hated that nickname.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you can tell he's worried from the tense and strain in his voice.

"Focus on the race, I'm fine and you'll see me soon" you smile into the phone making loads of kissy noises to him before he sighs nodding. You reassure him before you hang up turning to the nurse who was coming back with the x-rays of you nose.

"Yeah, it's definitely broken!" she sighs showing you making ou sigh too.

"Oooo and you have a mild concussion!" she smiles kindly making you laugh a little.

After the race and his podium, Max rushed as quickly as his jet provided to get to the hospital in Sweden you were being helped in.

He tried to sleep on the flight but was far too nervous to the point where he was pacing up and down the free walkway in the middle of the jet until the airhost made him take a seat handing him a beer to calm his nerves.

When he arrived to your private room in the hospital to see you scrolling through your phone he didn't fully take in your appearance at first.

He didn't note the greasy hair, or the bags under your eyes or the stuff helping fix your nose.

"Hey Schat!" he sighs and your head snaps up you look at him in disgust and shock.

"No! Don't look at me!" you cry pulling his hoodie up over you head and face to cover everything. And he couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. Hiding from him as if he hadn't seen you at your worst.

"Why are you hiding from me Princess" he laughs coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed after having taking a picture of your embarrassment.

"Mmmmm i look awful!" you say peeking at him through the hood.

"I think you look beautiful, like always" he grins, kissing you cheek not wanting to risk kissing your lips and numbing his nose with yours.

y/user

Liked by maxverstappen1 and redbullracing

y/user: This weekend in order between my hockey competition and Max’s race.

Image 1 - me and my girlie frejalarsson getting ready for battle (we had a national tournament)

Image 2 - Max at his race to me tacking a hockey stick to the face 😳 (my nose was bleeding pretty bad)

Image 3 - Max leaving after his race on Sunday to fly to me in Sweden to visit me in the hospital. (I looked awful and was embarrassed)

Image 4 - going with Max to Monaco to get cuddles from Jimmy and Sassy

It’s been eventful to say the least!

Tagged 2 People

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redbullracing: get well soon y/n!

maxverstappen1: now I know how you feel when I get into a crash! Scariest moment of my life! So glad you are okay! 🥰

-> y/user: Love you Käresta 🤭🫶🏼

landonorris: get well soon y/n! Need you in the club asap 🍾🎈

-> y/user: i broke my nose Lando …

-> landonorris: so you can’t party with a broke nose? LAME!

-> maxverstappen1: I’m breaking your nose next buddy if you aren’t careful ❗️

-> landonorris: 😦

Instagram Story Caption: Lego Date 🧱

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[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)

pt. 1

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.

He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.

Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.

Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.

Little shit.

Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.

Looking at you, Lucas.

Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.

Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.

Until he did, with Eddie.

Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.

Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.

Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.

"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"

"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.

Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.

She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.

Fuck, he loved her.

"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.

Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.

"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.

"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.

Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.

"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.

Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.

Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"

Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"

Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."

Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."

Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.

Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."

Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.

Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."

Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"

"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."

"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.

Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.

"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."

Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.

Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.

Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.

Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.

"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.

"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."

Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"

"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.

Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."

Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."

The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."

Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."

Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"

It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."

"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.

Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.

Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.

tag list!:

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec @goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch @ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso

(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments)

[haveyouseenherlately]

hi friends 👋

i just wanted to stop by to share some of the fics which i always return to and are now like comfort food for me. all of these awesome writers also inspired me to start posting here back in march so thank you. i appreciate you more than i could ever say 🤍

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be my mistake by @alovesreading

probably one of the first 75 fics i ever read once i got back on tumblr late last year. it is heartbreaking but i cannot stop myself from re-reading it every once in a while. a is such a sweet and talented person with so many amazing fics that you should check out if you haven't. another one of my faves by her is quarter past midnight, for all of the ross girlies out there.

body piercer!matty by @sugar-coat-it

i mean, there's not much i can say about our favourite mohawked punk boy. my dearest belle killed it with this au and he's become one of my go-to matty's in this world. i'd kill for a night with him lol. ilysm belle and whenever i see your handle pop up on my feed i cannot help but smile.

truth serum by @imagine-that-100

this fic is so freaking sweet and i love it so much. again, this is another one which i found soon after i came back to tumblr. if you even need a little pick-me-up, reading this will do the trick. matty taking care of you will always be a fave trope of mine. @imagine-that-100 has also created other beautiful au's and if you are ever looking for some alex turner x reader fic, will we talk? is beyond.

costumes by @toomuchracket

roleplay with matty in his lab coat? sign. me. up. this fic fucked with my mind in the best way possible. i think it was my first introduction to birthday party!matty. needless to say, i was instantly hooked. mads is an incredible writer and all of her au's are :chef's kiss:

playing on my mind by @ughgoaway

if you for some reason haven't read any of ace's teacher au, please do it tonight. you won't regret it. they've done an amazing job at building such a beautiful, cozy world that makes you feel like you're part of it. ace, i'll never be able to thank you enough for this.

truth or dare by @abiiors

brother's best friend daniel my beloved. a first time fic will always get me and this one stuck in my mind since the first time i read it. the amount of time i've spent reading vee's work should be alarming, but i don't care. i cannot get enough of it.

the dress by @kennedy-brooke

i'm usually a matty girl (surprise to no one here) but this george fic is amazing. the text exchange between george and matty is golden, and the smut is just... yeah. another one i've read way too many times but will never get tired of it. thank you so much @kennedy-brooke for this piece of gold.

-----

if you have the time, make sure to check out their work if you haven't already. i assure you won't be disappointed.

there are so many other amazing writers in this community so i'll have to do a part 2 of this so it doesn't get too long.

thank you for reading!

[l0tt1emy]

nobody knows

Stepbrother!Nat scartoccio x F!Reader

A/n: I got this idea while using a bot from one of my moots @/deerlottie (his bots are PERFECT(｡ŏ﹏ŏ) and I thought "why not write about it?" So this idea came to me

Warnings: SMUT. I'm not your mother!! Oral, p in v, no protection, I think that's all...

Summary: Your step brother was just kind to agree to sleep with you, Could you make up for it

Nat didn't know that a night at the movies with his step sister would do that

his day was shit, nat had lost the ball in the game, thus making his team lose, his frustrated teammates ended up talking too much, and this stressed him out, Arriving home your father discovered that he was skipping school for no reason "he's not even my real father" nat thinks

You, his step sister, started school after him, and became Jackie's best friend, so he already knew you before you moved in with him, you were kinder than he wanted to say, he always called you names and you had every opportunity to call him names back, but you stayed quiet or just nodded, he literally said that was why you weren't dating and you just mumbled "uhmm" while writing in your book

Nat arrived very angry in the room, you could see and feel the smoke coming out of her ears, he was red with anger

He sat on the sofa angrily, while breathing in visible that you could hear, you turned slightly towards him without taking your eyes off the program" Did something happen?" you mumble, your eyes scanning him for a second after turning back to the tv "nothing that's any of your business" he says dryly as he rubs your temple, as if that does any good

"wow..rude" you mutter as you frown, and grab the remote control "I was thinking about putting on a movie" you say without looking at him "can that be done? or are you too mad for that? and I have What do you have to wait until you leave the room?" you add, mocking a little.

Nat rolls his eyes and leans into you, his arm brushing your chest as he pulls the control from you "I'll choose" he says seriously, if you were a little mad you would have ignored him and gone up to your room, but you continuous

and you don't know how, but you watched a movie with nat, if you ignore the part where you almost cursed him and tried to steal control from him because you didn't want a horror movie, the night was good

Somehow you ended up next to Nat, holding his arm tightly as you were startled.

and in the midst of the cozy intimacy you let out a suspicious question "do you want to sleep with me today?" and what surprised you was that nat accepted

Your parents were surprised, you never got along, always fighting over who would take a shower first, until he started dreaming about you almost every night, I mean, always, he always woke up hard as a rock, and he couldn't take it more, masturbating was no longer possible, he needed more, but he never had the courage to do it, of course you already kissed him once, but it was a long time ago, he never moved forward after that

and it was no different now, but now he can blame you, you unconsciously turned your back to him, your ass rubbing his dick, he could feel it even in his sleep, his hands twitching and him slowly regaining consciousness

Nat's eyes snapped open, his pupils dilating as he registered the sensation of your curved ass pressed against his dick, He let out a soft groan

Without a word, Nat reached for your waist, pulling you back towards him, his hand wrapped around your hip, his fingers digging gently into your skin as he guided you

You feel warm hands rub your skin, slowly regaining consciousness only to be able to differentiate Nat's hands "What are you doing?..." you mumble with your eyes closed as you slowly move back, feeling something hard on your ass

Nat's hands tightened around your hip, his grip slighty uncomfortable, but sweet as he pulled you closer.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, his voice husky with sleep. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." His hands smoothed up and down your sides, his movements soothing and gentle as he tried to rebalance himself "And also, I missed my sweet sister" he added, his voice dripping with affection.

His fingers glided around to your stomach, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "And now, I need a wake-up call from you, my love," he whispered, his warmth piercing the morning mist. Nat's eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking onto yours, his face etched with genuine

Your thoughts were certainly not being processed, Nat's hand seemed to make a trail of fire whenever he rubbed you, you unconsciously put your hand over his and squeezed, not knowing if it was to push him away and tell him to continue.

Nat's eyes flashed, his body responding to the gentle touch of your hand, his hand, still wrapped around your hip, began to move in slow, deliberate circles, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin that made your breath catch. His eyes never left yours, his gaze burning with intensity as he watched you, his face inches from yours. The air was thick with tension, the only sound the soft rustle of his breathing and the beating of your hearts. Nat's hand slid higher, his palm pressing against the small of your back, his fingers digging gently into your skin. His mouth hovered inches from yours, his lips parted, his breath warm against your skin. "N-natty.. what are you doing" "shh.." he murmured, his voice low and throaty.

"let me do everything...just, don't make noise or you'll get in trouble" he says as he starts to kiss your neck softly, giving wet kisses he traced your spine, his fingers playing with your bra clasp.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips, his fingers fumbled with the clasp, finally releasing it with a click.

Nat's eyes were locked onto your face, his gaze filled with adoration. He slowly removed your bra, revealing your bare chest. "Damn, you're perfect" he breathed, his voice filled with longing. His eyes moved from your face, to your chest, then back up to your eyes.

"So pretty.." he murmured, his hands cupping your cheeks. His thumbs stroked your jawlines, his touch gentle and tender.

His hand cupped your breast, his fingers grazing your nipple, sending shivers down your spine. "God, you're amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His lips returned to your mouth, his kiss hungry and demanding. Nat's hand slipped lower, his fingers grazing the edge of your shorts.

" let me do everything" nat said his voice rough with need. His erection strained against his boxers, desperate for attention. Nat's eyes never left yours, his gaze filled unspoken promises

His hand slid lower, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear.

His fingers slipped under your underwear, his touch confident and bold. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with desire. He felt your wetness, his cock pulsing in response.

"God..you are so wet for me" he says in a whisper, moving and moving down your body, He kisses your neck, going down to your stomach, kissing slowly, reaching your thigh, he looks at you and bites his lip, you feel the blush creeping up your neck, covering your face with your arm you close your eyes

Nat's eyes sparkled with amusement, his lips twitching into a smirk.

"Don't be embarrassed," he murmured, his voice smooth. His fingers continued to stroke you, his touch confident and sure. " It's a good thing, alright?" he teased, his voice filled with mirth. His thumb brushed against your entrance, testing its readiness.

I want to taste you," he whispered, his voice tinged with hunger. Nat lowered his head, his lips brushing against your inner thigh.

"Spread your legs for me," he instructed, his voice velvety. As you followed his command, Nat positioned himself between your thighs.

Nat's eyes darkened, his pupils dilating. He took a deep breath, his nostrils catching your scent. His tongue swiped across your inner thigh, his touch feather-light.

"Oh god, you smell delicious," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He moved closer, his face mere centimeters from your core. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, his eyes locked on yours.

"So wet," Nat breathed, his voice low and sultry. He dipped his head, his tongue sliding into you. His eyes locked onto yours, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. Nat's fingers played with your clit, his touch electric.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice muffled. His tongue probed deeper, his lips sucking gently

"F-fuck..natty" You moan softly, biting your arm to muffle your moans, Nat licks you all over, sucking your clit, your clit pulsing on his tongue

He increased his pace, his tongue flickering and dancing inside you. His fingers pinched your clit, his touch precise and deliberate.

His eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with exertion. Nat's tongue plunged deeper, his movements confident and bold. He sucked harder, his lips creating suction

"You're so fucking wet," he growled, his voice raw. His fingers danced around your clit, his touch expert and precise.

your thighs move without your will, they tremble and you unconsciously close them, Nat quickly growls and squeezes her, forcing them open, you whimper softly and close your eyes, muttering curses, you could feel that you are almost reaching the limit

"Almost there, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse. His tongue worked furiously, his movements desperate. His fingers pinched and tugged your clit, his touch insistent. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with excitement. His tongue darted in and out, his movements frantic.

"That's it," he growled, his voice raw. His fingers twisted your clit, his touch urgent. His eyes never left yours, his focus solely on your pleasure.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice raw.

His tongue thrust into you, his movements fierce. His fingers pinched your clit, his touch relentless. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with determination. His tongue flickered wildly, his movements unrestrained.

"There you go," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. His fingers squeezed your clit, his touch insatiable. His own release threatened, his body tense with need. Nat's tongue danced inside you, his movements chaotic.

"That's it, come for me, baby," he pleaded, his voice hoarse. His fingers twisted your clit, his touch unrelenting. When you reach climax your body convulses, you shake and whimper softly

He felt your muscles clench, his tongue lapping up your juices.

Nat wipes off every last drop of your juices, licking his lips then, adjusting himself and getting up until your face is facing his, he kisses you, you feeling the taste of your juices

he straightens up and murmurs "Are you ready for me yet?" he murmurs against your lips, sounding more like a statement than a question.

"On me," he ordered, his voice hoarse. His tongue retreated, his face flushed with desire. He adjusted his position, his erection throbbing. Nat's hand guided you, his touch sure.

His eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with determination. "Ride me, baby," he growled, his voice raw. He lifted his hips, his erection poised.

His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with hunger. Nat's breath hitched as you settled on him, his erection submerging inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his touch possessive.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. He held you steady, his body tense with anticipation. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face filled with longing.

"Go ahead," he urged, his voice low and sultry.

His breath hitched as you rode him, his erection buried deep within you.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice raw. His hands gripped your hips, his touch possessive. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with pleasure. His own release threatened, his body tense with need. He thrust upward, his movements matching yours.

"Harder, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse. His hands gripped your hips, his touch insistent. Nat's eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with hunger. He thrust upward, his erection hitting your G-spot.

"Oh god, yes," he moaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, his touch unyielding. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face flushed with desire.

"Take it," he growled, his voice raw. His hands gripped your hips, his touch insistent. His eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with determination. Nat's thrusts became more forceful, his body moving in sync with yours.

"Oh god, you feel so good," he panted, his voice hoarse. His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with longing.

you feel filled to the brim, his dick hitting your cervix He thrust upward, his erection hitting your spot perfectly.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, his touch unyielding. Nat's eyes never left yours, his face etched with desire. "That's it, ride me, baby," he urged, his voice low and sultry. His own release threatened, his body trembling. Nat's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his eyes locked onto yours.

"You're so fucking tight," he moans, getting close to your neck and biting it, leaving a mark "f-fuck nat" you moan loudly

Nat's eyes flashed with ecstasy, his own release imminent.

"Fuck, yes" he growled, his voice hoarse. His hands gripped your hips, his touch insistent. His eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with pleasure. Nat's release erupted, his body trembling. His thrusts became more frantic, his body shaking.

His eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with hunger.

"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice low and sultry. His release surged, his body shuddering. Nat's breath came in short, ragged gasps, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Oh, fuck" he moaned, his voice tinged with pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, his touch unyielding. His release poured into you, his body quivering. Nat's eyes locked onto yours, his face etched with satisfaction.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

you feel exhaustion seep into your body, your body relaxing without your will into his neck, closing your eyes and sighing into his neck as sleep settles in

"You're amazing," he whispered, his voice soft. His arms wrapped around you, his embrace tender. He held you close, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Nat's hands caressed your back, his touch gentle. His eyes locked onto yours, his face filled with contentment.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. His breath hitched, his body still trembling. His fingers tangled in your hair, his touch affectionate.

You wake up the next day alone in your bed, your head hurts as you remember what happened last night, getting up from your room and heading towards the stairs, your knees buckle and you almost fall, this has never happened before...

Going down the stairs, you notice that your stepmother, your father and Nat were at the breakfast table, your mother talking to Nat while your father read a newspaper, she gives a smile when she sees you

"Good morning sweetheart" she says softly, and nat looks at you and waves "good morning idiot" she greets you normally, you roll your eyes fake not at all offended "good morning smelly" you say as you sit next to your stepmother "stop arguing" she says lovingly

"I'm not" you say bluntly, breakfast continues as normal, you and Nat acting like you always do on a daily basis until your stepmother says something "Have you resolved yourselves yet?" She murmurs softly as she fixes the dishes, you and Nat look at each other

"What do you mean?" "You were arguing last night in your room" she says, you and Nat's eyes widen and you can see Nat blushing, your father looks at your stepmother "always, they always arguing" he adds and your mother rolls her eyes and smiles "

They don't even hide it, you speak too loud, dear

[scintillyyy]

can i say something. i am kind of scared to say something bc dick ship wars kind of scare me even though i have absolutely no preference and care extremely little about dick ships. but. hm. the thinking about 80s and 90s medias as products of their time got me thinking a bit.

so. the interesting thing to me about dick-kory in the 70s and 80s vs dick-babs in the 90s and early 00s os how much each of those couples was entrenched in the media ideals of the time and what people were looking for in a ship.

so like, if you look at dick-kory, theirs is a larger than life love that is destined from the moment she kissed him to learn human language. and theirs is a dynamic and relationship dripping in the popular soap opera tropes that were very pervasive a the time. you can't actually divorce their tribulations (dick being kind of condescending to kory as the Man of the relationship, she's a princess who has to get married for political reasons and dick gets mad, kory gets mad at him for supposedly cheating when he was raped by mirage, the epic wedding that gets literally blown up by raven to name a few) from the media norms that were very popular. they fight passionately and make up passionately very frequently. this is a very common dynamic in the 80s, where soap operas were topping the charts. everyone was watching general hospital. *30 million* people tuned in to see luke and laura get married and their relationship started with him raping her (which was later turned into "seduction") and they were considered like THE couple ever. everyone was watching dynasty. dallas was hugely popular. falcon crest. knots landing. dick and kory's relationship mirrors a lot of what people were eating up back then in the soap opera type media the new titans was emulating. luke and laura. gary and valene. bo and hope. bobby and pam. dick and kory. can you really talk about dick and kory if you don't know what was going on with "bope" back then? for reference, here's what was going on with bo and hope:

anyways. enter the 90s and the soap opera fervor died down in a massive way. soap operas were no longer prime time material and their popularity died down in a massive way & actually people started more making fun of the overwrought storylines and soaps in general. the ideas of destined, one true love was suddenly far more unappealing to people who thought it was cheesy & tired. what people in the 90s were looking for was not true love that is constantly tested and put through the wringer--what was gaining in popularity was UST and will they won't they dynamics. enter dick-babs. and while i wholly disagree with the idea of diminishing kory's importance in dick's life just to uplift babs, i don't entirely disagree with the notion that kory probably wouldn't have really worked in batbooks, so i understand why batbooks wanted to focus on a loveline for dick for a character they had full control of and could work into the stories. and, hm. moving dick away from the destined one true love at the time that was kory allowed them to put him in the romantic situations that 90s audiences were vibing with instead. because you can't suddenly do a will they won't they with a couple who's been solidly dating for *years*. so with dick and babs you're able to do that. he's interested while she's dating someone else. he flirts with someone else for a bit while she's single. while the entire time they're still good working partners while circling around each other. will they? or won't they? and this was super common in late 90s/early 00s sitcom shows that people loved and were at the top of the charts. the x-files with scully and mulder. friends with rachel and ross. fran and mr. sheffield from the nanny. it's still very much playing to what people wanted to see back then.

anyways as someone who truly has no horse in this race i do think media norms of the time around couplings are interesting to dissect.

[undead-supernova]

Right Here, Right Now

Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 (TBC)

Masterlist

plot: corroded coffin's eddie munson agrees to an interview for the first time in three years, alongside a new album that is most definitely about you.

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: talks of familial death, depressing lyricism, angst

wc: 4.1k

note: I also wrote all of the lyrics in this chapter and made the images above of the album's cover and tracklist. I feel so proud of how much my hard work is paying off. DON'T USE THESE LYRICS ANYWHERE ELSE THANK YEW

Just one more mile.

You could do it. No, really, you could.

Tour really was coming up in the next six months and you had to build up your stamina now or else you weren’t going to survive. Things really were better now, though. You’d gotten rid of your personal trainer and switched to someone who did not suggest that you stop eating. It seemed like Sophia was a better fit anyways. If anything, she told you to eat more.

So here you were, on your poor attempt at a night run.

And you promised yourself that you wouldn’t think about him and how his album was dropping any day now.

Definitely, definitely not.

It was nearly midnight anyways, a few out from the witching hour but that’s not how it went for you. If anything, you were cursed with the threat of midnight being the worst hour of each day. It was like some switch flicked on and you were a mess of a woman, splayed out in bed and thinking. Furiously scribbling in a notebook as you lost to the thoughts in your head. Curled up in a ball in the shower, the white noise perfect for your never-ending thinking.

And who could forget sitting in your kitchen with a bowl of Kraft mac and cheese. Don’t forget the thinking.

Thinking about Eddie. His voice. The way he was willing to give you more than you deserved without any rhyme or reason. How desperate you felt to reconnect, to apologize profusely and beg for some semblance of forgiveness.

And now you were here, trying to outrun your problems while watching the headlights passing the windowpane.

Tried to stop thinking about how at any moment, Eddie could show up and you’d fall into his arms without any question. You’d tell him it didn’t matter. None of it did. And he’d say he wasn’t mad anymore and that he missed you and then you’d go on living like you once did.

Before you could lose yourself to wishing on headlights, a notification popped up on your phone.

         Spotify exclusive: Listen to Corroded Coffin’s new album now!

Without any warning, you lost your footing on the treadmill and fell backwards. Hit your head on the floor, stunned. Let the pain throb in your head for only a few seconds before you dragged your body upright and clicked on the album.

Your eyes scanned the track list, heart pumping incessantly as a bead of blood rushed down your forehead. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Quickly, you threw yourself into the shower to wash off before grabbing headphones and padding into your walk-in closet. Situated yourself in the back corner, your body fitting snuggly in isolation. 

And as you pressed that green play button, your grief washed over you at every line you called your favorite.

Welcome Home

         “Dad’s disappearing acts and the award-winning smile 

         saying ‘sure, I’ll be comin’ back’

         Well, I guess we’re both suckers for a little hope every once in a while

         And, mom, is that why you stayed? Waited up praying, decaying all alone

         Just so one day, you’d be able to say, ‘Welcome home’.”

Fever

         “How could you ever fight a fever? God dammit, she’s more than a flame

         Got her pinning me down, locked inside her heat wave

         Sweat dripping, flesh gripping, I melt from her gaze

         Just one more round, promise I’ll behave

         Come on, darling, why don’t you set me ablaze?”

The Cost

         “I ruined all the plans that hadn’t been made

         Loving you as the bellbirds erupted in a haunted chorus

         Rosy pink clouds turned into showers of blood and hate

         I’m trying, baby, I’m trying to find a way out for us

         But isn’t that the cost, darling? 

         Isn’t that the price of being with me?”

Tailor-Made

         “We’re the only ones walking through the neighborhood

         Sweetheart, don’t you think I know how to hide?

         I’d never speak it, but I’d buy every house if I could

         Marry you in secret, raise our kids benevolent and kind.”

Rose Petals (Interlude)

         “Take a boy-turned-man, crucifying himself at your altar

         Convince him your devoted infatuation will never falter

         Paint his skies a vibrant pink then turn him into sheet metal

         Leave him bleeding out, fractured, scattered like rose petals.”

As Good As Dead

         “What’s more cliché than a man saying he’d die without your love

         At least if I had an open vein, I’d feel something better than being numb

         ‘There’s no such thing as fate’ my thoughts screamed so fucking loud

         But there was comfort in blind faith, that ill-fated crowd

         Had a grip on your throat. Shit, maybe it always has

         But now that I’m as good as dead, I can’t help my bitter laugh.”

A Mirage of Lovers

         “There sat Elizabeth and Al,

         on the front porch of their first house

         Blind with momentary affection

         And I swear when I looked at you,

         I thought you were a lasting confection

         But I swear there’s a mirage of lovers

         Blurring in its reflection.”

Deluge

         “It’s all there in my head, all in disarray

         A cesspool of memories, a desperation for change

         Fought for my life, thought it was so I could see you

         Mother, I know that you’re not here, I’m still trying to heal

         But please tell me now that love has always been real

         Yet I wonder if you ever believed it yourself."

Hotwire

         “Al loved a nice Hotwire

         Pull ‘em apart, let them fray, twist ‘em till they go insane

         And, yeah, I guess everyone I love is the same.”

Fallen Hero (Interlude)

         “Every time I pick up a pen

         It’s destined to dry out

         And I refuse to go outside, refuse to call my friends

         What’s the point when they’ll never understand?

         I’ll leave myself behind just to have a pinch of hope

         But I come back down from daydreams covered in blood

         Just gotta learn to change, learn to change

         Learn to accept being the fallen hero."

Intangible

         “There’s beauty in the ways of intangibility 

         Like the touch of a woman in blushing gardens far away

         The curve of her hips blooming in shades of futility

         Laughter billowing like smoke lingering in the archway

         And there’s places she will never be able to evade

         A bouquet, a veil, a lover lying await in the shade.”

Out of My Hands

         “If I could hear your knock, brought back by my revery

         Each rap, each tap still committed to my memory

         But that’s up to you, darling, it’s all up to you

         And it’s the end I’m stalling, just for you

         And I love you, baby. I love you

         I hope you know I always will

         Even if it’s out of my hands.”

Wayne

         “There’s a new family in the trailer, I really wish I could believe it

         'Cause once I thought we'd buckle under the weight of all that labor

         No more scrounging up pennies for another first-aid kit

         And you’re not here, Wayne. No, you’re not here.”

Lighter

         “Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

         Let it flicker, sit by the flame from sunrise ’til noon

         Come running back, consider your exile foregone

         I choose you in the low glow of dusk, love you ‘til dawn.”

Makeup starting to smudge, an outrageously expensive crop top and skirt still on, you threw off your pumps and let your aching feet lead you to the kitchen. Your black, white, and neon orange plaid outfit reflected vibrantly off the refrigerator light as you decided instead to make crescent rolls. Why the fuck not? 

You were absolutely exhausted. Sleep hadn’t been an option for you in the last twenty-four hours, what with Corroded Coffin’s album keeping you awake and the promo you’d done all day. When you’d finally arrived back to your small California home, you were irritated and in desperate need of some food.

However, as the oven began to preheat, your jumbled thoughts kept piling on top of one another. The fog was too loud for you, having to rush to your living room to grab one of your many notebooks and pens. Sat at the island and just journaled.

It was hard enough knowing that Eddie had written all of that for you. About you. The disappointment, the self-loathing. The guilt of not feeling good enough. Searching through the past mistakes of his parents to make sense of the way you fell apart. As if that was the inevitable ending to any story he was destined to begin.

You felt sick.

And even though you ate every single crescent roll, your words just sunk into the page. You could’ve sworn a third of the notebook itself was smeared in grease and flakes and the intense shame rising in your chest. It was everything you’d hated about the last six months and more, all the goddamn childish emotions and wails of what was fair and what wasn’t. As if this hadn’t been your decision in the first place.

Enough was enough when you finished your plate.

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself before letting out a sound of frustration. “Distraction. Now.”

Grabbing your laptop, you threw yourself on your couch and logged onto YouTube. Maybe you’d watch a deep dive on an amusement park. Catch up on some commentary. Look up that one video of baby sloths talking that usually had you crying from affection.

But there on the front page was an interview with Corroded Coffin on the new album. There’d already been over a million views despite being posted that morning. Something pooled in your abdomen as you saw the thumbnail, all the members posing together.

And you knew you shouldn’t.

But fuck it, what’s a little more salt to your never-ending wounds?

As you clicked on the video, some interviewer you hadn’t heard of popped up smiling before he spoke.

“Hi, my name is Marcus Sanderson and today I’m interviewing one of the most successful metal bands in recent history, Corroded Coffin. They have been hitting commercial success lately, after their incredible album, Fire Shroud, held electronic influences which have begun to redefine and evolve the genre for the modern age.

"Their most recent album, Elizabeth & Al, has only propelled them forward. I was given the rare opportunity to talk to Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie about not only their writing and producing process, but their personal lives. 

“First, we’ll open up with a cover of one of the band’s favorite songs of all time, ‘Solitude’ by Black Sabbath.”

It cut to the band and you couldn’t help a frustrated whine leaving your mouth at seeing him again. And, Jesus Christ, Eddie was fit like a daydream, donning a black Guns N’ Roses t-shirt with dark jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt tied at the waist. A shiny leather jacket, some custom-made Converse with Corroded Coffin across the bottom. Rings and bracelets galore, an obsidian choker hanging low on his neck. Black eyeliner that had wings along his lower lash line. 

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so fucking weak for him.

He stood without his guitar for once, his full attention on his singing. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie were all decked out too, makeup mirroring Eddie’s. All looking refreshed and well-rested. You noticed there was someone else there in the background playing the flute and as they started the song with a gentle solo, it sounded ethereal.

         “My name, it means nothing. My fortune is less

         My future is shrouded in dark wilderness.”

Eddie avoided the camera, eyes darting around the room. You could see his fingers shaking, white-knuckled around the microphone despite the stability of the stand. 

         “Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on

         Everything I possessed, now they are gone

         They are gone.”

Absentmindedly chewing on your lip, you couldn't help but let it sink in. This wasn't just the band's favorite Black Sabbath song—this was Eddie's. He'd told you how the song ripped him apart. How he'd rather die than to ever relate to it personally.

         “Oh, where can I go to and what can I do?

         Nothing can please me, only thoughts are of you

         You just left when I begged you to stay.”

He leaned back as he began to change the notes of the lyrics, his voice building into a belt. Like it was a wail, like he was the most furious man alive.

         “I’ve not stopped crying since you went away

         You went away…” 

The instrumental sounded, the flute having its own solo. Extending the moment, extending the devastation that was demolishing your soul.

Eddie was crying now, wiping the corners of his eyes in the background. Smearing his eyeliner like he didn't care, nose tinged pink through the makeup. And when he came back to the mic, you could see the pain sitting in his eyes. All glassy, all excruciatingly fragile.

         “The world is a lonely place, you’re on your own

         Guess I will go home, sit down and mourn

         Crying and thinking is all that I do

         Memories I have remind me of you

         Of you.”

The footage blurred, fading before cutting to Eddie sitting alone in a chair with the interviewer opposite him. Like they were in a house, all casual and at ease.

“We’re starting off by talking to the front man, Eddie Munson,” Marcus said to the camera, smiling before turning his attention back to Eddie. “It’s nice to see you, man. You look great.”

Eddie chuckled. “Great to be back.”

Marcus nodded. “That cover of ‘Solitude’ was incredible, by the way.”

You could see some color flood into Eddie’s cheeks. “Ah, thanks. Thank you.”

“Do you feel like you’ve been in a period of solitude?”

“Uh, to be honest, kinda. I know people are, like, freaking out just ‘cause I haven’t been in public.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Just making sure I’m focused on the work,” He gestured to himself before mimicking a pushing motion “and not on the external stuff, you know?”

“As we all should. Would you tell me a bit about your new album? Personally, I’m curious as to why you specifically named it Elizabeth & Al.”

“Yeah, uh, those are my parents’ names. My mom passed away when I was a kid and my dad…well, he wasn’t the best. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about what happens when two people who love each other just end up falling apart. Like, you just feel like you’re as good as dead, you know? And I wondered if my parents had that sort of crash and burn before she died.

“I don’t talk about it much, but my dad had a lot of issues with addiction and gambling and crime after my mom died. I didn’t grow up with the generic parent bleep. It was more like I was his friend than a son and sometimes I was a business partner. And, I don’t know, I grew up thinking that love could’ve been so simple if he gave just a little bit of effort. But I still thought he and my mom had a simple love.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, no. My dad was never really good at maintaining, like, any kind of control. And it’s so weird ‘cause all he ever did was try to have control over things. But it was self-sabotage, I think. He was never in control over his life. It felt so predestined.”

“What about your mom?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I think she just wanted love. Like, grasping for that shred of love that he provided every once in a while. ‘Cause it’s not like my dad was incapable of love. Just incapable of giving her everything. Maybe I’m projecting now, but you know what I mean.”

“So, is this album from the perspective of your parents?”

“Not exactly,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “They’re kinda just the reflection, you know? Like what I say on ‘A Mirage of Lovers’. Our parents end up being a kind of mirror we hold up to ourselves. And I think it’s up to us to decide if we’ll continue that cycle or not—especially in the face of heartbreak and loss. ‘Cause you can easily sit there and accuse yourself of being like your father or your mother. But ultimately, you’re just you. You’re not your parents.”

“And you wrote all of this within the last six months, correct?”

“Yeah, it was weird. Like, I just couldn’t stop writing. I was in such a dark place and the only thing I did was sit and write. And the band is so bleeping incredible. I showed them what I was thinking, and they were super, super receptive to it. And we got to work and got it done faster than anything else we’ve made.”

Marcus smiled, something genuine and real, shaking his head in disbelief. “That timeline really does shock me, just because it’s so seamless. There’s all these tiny details and every song just flows into one another.”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot. We kinda thought that having all the songs connect was sorta like, um, a stream of consciousness, essentially.” He started gesturing with his hands and you knew he was getting more comfortable. It almost made you smile. “Like, these thoughts all run together in a big loop. Like having one of those corkboards with all the evidence and red strings, you know? All of it just ends up running together and there’s no concrete answer. It just is.

“And, man. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie are just the best. They know me better than almost anyone and they seemed to automatically get what they needed to do. Just, like, boom, boom, boom. One after the other, we just got everything right. No one else helped produce this album and I think it shows just how much we’ve learned and evolved over our careers.” 

You felt something freeze inside you when the interviewer mentioned your name.

Eddie tried his best to seem unaffected, but you knew he was starting to squirm. You could see the top of his knee as it bounced.

“Are you two still together?” Marcus asked. “What’s the story there?”

Eddie’s eyes wandered the room, probably trying to calculate the best way to go. You selfishly wanted him to say nothing about the breakup, to refuse to confirm that it was truly over. 

He cleared his throat before scratching his temple. 

“My relationship with her is private and just between us. It always has. But I guess since I finally have a chance to say whatever I want to say, I want to make it very clear that the way the media has treated her has been just disgusting and unwarranted. She is not some plastic, shiny doll for everyone to point and laugh at."

Eddie then straightened his posture as he looked straight into the camera. "Oh, and let me be clear. If you’re sitting there talking about her bleeping body, then you are a piece of bleeping bleep and I hope you burn in hell.”  

Just like that, Marcus Sanderson moved on, the shot cutting away to a shot of the rest of the band sitting on a couch. But you weren’t listening anymore. Your head was swirling with a concoction of disbelief and epiphanies. Something…clicked.

Because you’d never had a partner mention you on a public scale. Never had a partner willing to scream your love from the top of the world and still retain privacy. Never had someone so willing to defend you despite your faults. Despite your arguments and downfalls.

And you were realizing that you…had done none of that for Eddie.

You’d sat there, in a dreamy haze because Eddie gave you everything he had. But had you really done any of those things back? Had you given him an ounce of what he gave you? 

You thought back to the AMAs, when you walked around your answers. Nearly yelled at him for standing up for you. Dropped his hand when he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Hell, you even broke up with him because of what other people said. He thought you wanted nothing from him, that you weren’t interested anymore. 

You never even said you loved him to his face.

You treated him exactly the way all your past partners treated you.

Eddie Munson had given you his world and you’d given him a fraction.

“I fucked up,” you whispered before you really processed what was happening. “I FUCKED UP!” you screeched, scrambling to stand up and check your phone. 

1:13am.

Immediately dropped it, watching it slide under the couch.

“FUCK!” you screamed again.

Dropping to your knees and enduring the carpet burn, you reached down and felt around for your phone. But you froze as you felt something else, something smaller in size. Pulled it out, recognizing Eddie’s lighter immediately. 

You flicked the lighter on, only encountering sparks the first two times. But when you watched it transform into a flame, something in your chest began to ache. It was the kindling of a once-wet fireplace, the first stroke of fire you’d felt in months. Teardrops fell freely down your chest as you found the will to fight.

Fight for what you knew you could never live without.

Fight for Eddie.

Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

Come running back, consider your exile foregone

Without any thought, you stuffed it into your top, found your phone, and popped up to search for some socks. Barely registered the color before yanking them on. You didn’t care how dressed up you were or how oily your face felt. How exhausted your body was or the residue of a crescent roll sticking to the side of your mouth.

You had to get to wherever Eddie was, and you had to get there now. If you didn’t talk to him tonight, you didn’t know if you’d make it to daylight.

But where was he?

The thought made you pause, hands shaking as you thought.

And before the panic could completely consume you, you called the one person who seemed to know everything.

“Woah, hello there.”

“Jeff.” 

“Hey, long time no see. Where you been?”

“Jeff, I’m sorry, but I really need you to tell me if Eddie is in California right now.”

“Uh, yeah, he is.” You tugged your white Keds on, breathing a sigh of relief. “He’s been holed up in his place for the last few days. Why?”

“I just need to talk to him,” you said, nearly out of breath as you started sprinting to the garage. “I need to talk to him.”

“Ever thought about calling?”

“Nope.”

Jeff’s laughter rang through the receiver. “You’re crazy, girl. I’ll give you that one.” A huff left your nose as you climbed into your car. “You gonna tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Finally.”

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, dreading any answer he’d give.

“Not at all. Just don’t leave him hanging this time, okay? He hasn’t been okay in a really long time.”

“Neither have I. I’m hoping to fix this and let it stay fixed.”

“Go get your man.”

As the garage door lifted, you noticed the pouring rain.

Of course it started fucking storming within the last hour and a half you’d been home. Of fucking course.

“Bye, Jeff,” you said quickly.

“Bye, girl!”

As you filed out of your driveway, a black SUV was already pulling out behind you. The protection was part of the job. You knew this. But sometimes, you just wanted to tell Scott that you had shit to do on your own.

But there was no time for this.

You just continued to drive, letting the soft hum of “The Long And Winding Road” by The Beatles lead you right back to the very place you knew you belonged.

“Scott,” James acknowledged.

“James.”

It felt like a showdown, Scott stepping in front of you at the gates. As soon as you’d arrived, you’d been prevented from pulling into the driveway. And it was James who’d crossed his arms over his dauntingly ripped chest, staring you down like you’d committed a crime.

You couldn’t blame him.

“What’s the situation?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I need to talk to Eddie.”

“It’s two in the morning. Kid finally fell asleep for once.”

“Let her in, James,” Scott said. “They’re people. Just let them figure it out on their own without us.”

“I really want to fix this,” you explained, earning a lifted eyebrow from James. “He’s everything to me and I know I screwed up. I know that. But I want to at least try to mend this. I’m a fucking idiot. Just…please.” Your eyes began to water. “Please let me try.”

James gave you a hard stare for what felt like ten minutes. Like he was assessing the risk. 

But then he opened the gate, stepping to the side. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, rushing past him to the door.

You knocked quite rapidly, your heartbeat matching the pace. Heard it pulse in your ears. Teetered on each foot as the adrenaline continued to catapult you further into madness. Waiting and waiting and waiting until— 

There he was, barely visible in the glow of the front porch light, eyes squinting. Messy curls frizzing, wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. No accessories, no socks on his feet.

It seemed like he finally registered it was you when he straightened his posture. Eddie gazed down at your body and back up again, eyes widening with every passing second. 

“Hey,” you finally whispered.

“Hey.”

bless @strangergraphics for always having the sickest dividers.

[the0maski]

Little thoughts and feelings about Update Dawn part 9| part 1

Malo Mart mentioned!!!

Twilight Princess: In game Link can’t afford anything in Malo Mart Castle Branch, right?

Since I haven’t played TP, does the one in Kakariko Village closed once the one in Castle Town open?

Oh Four what are you doing to your poor grandpa! He will be so grounded the moment the chain visits his time. But I don’t think his old man will be to harsh to him

In the beginning of Minish Cap, Smith tells Zelda that Link had helped him at the forge the whole night and that’s the reason he slept in. MC Link does his chores like the good grandkid he is!

Sky…I don’t remember Skyloft having a Postal Service…? And the Surface doesn’t have one yet…so unless a blue or red loftwing shows up I doubt Sky gets a letter…

I have no doubt that the range is safe, but I have a theory of why Time is still tense about everything.

It’s clear that Time didn’t like the stand Twilight pulled to get to The Shadow. Not like Warriors, who was mad, because it complicated their work together, but because Twilight really doesn’t know when to quit! (Similar mentality to Hyrule)

Yet Time seams to know the consequences first hand, seeing how he says: »But I saw something I knew I couldn’t stop. That pure determined courage.« later he adds »That choice alone could have claimed your life. Don’t push yourself like that.

Sadly Oot Link is one of the more stoic 3D Link so I couldn’t say if this could be a reference to the game, but I’m sure it kinda is.

1. Theory: The final battle against Ganondorf/ Ganon

Maybe Time was remembered how he felt and acted against Ganondorf. Since Jojo takes more out of the games implied lore for her comics, it can also be a subtle hint to the downfall timeline. The Hero (Oot Link) dies in his final battle against Ganon, which leads to seven sages sealing the evil king inside the sacred realm.

Is not clear how the Hero dies, but if this is a subtle hint, than Time saw and experienced, technical, his own death in that fight.

2. Theory: Fierce Deity and how Time lost his eye

Little is known about the Fierce Deity in LU canon, but going from the little we know the Fierce Deity is their own soul inside the mask. Time said, »I have Items that could drive a man mad.«

Maybe the "pure determined courage" lead to him getting over powered by the mask dark powers, following him losing an eye. Not sure if the mask had a direct impact on Time losing his eye, or if it was caused by an enemy he couldn’t avoid in time.

Time also didn’t fear Majora’s Mask, just saying that » I‘d be far more afraid of what destroyed the demon.« while looking into Majora’s eyes as the Fierce Deity. There is no fear of the mask he has. However, there is to little evidence for any of this as well.

Putting it lightly? Sir, you quite literally death glared your descendent into quitting being stubborn! If Twi wasn’t mortally wounded, Time would have yeeted him to the inn, no question asked.

Not sure if the game touched the subject or if I’m projecting, but since Oot Link got a lot of bullying from Mido and other, I always imagined him with a quick temper and bad emotion control. Time could be the same, yet since he is older he keeps himself in check.

More on part 2

[sakyhana13]

I have a Hazbin Hotel fanfiction where Vaggie is a Carmine and here I have a compilation of memes of the Carmine girls and their dynamics in this dubious fanfiction that hasn't come out yet.

The relationship between the three of them is basically that typical sibling thing: "Mommy found you in the trash, but if someone said that to you, I'll want names."

They will pick on each other, but in the end, they will be sleeping cuddled up in a pillow fort with Clara moving restlessly around the bed, Odette with all the sheets to herself and Vaggie curled up in a ball like a cat.

Clara and Odette are somewhat protective of Vaggie, because she is their youngest sister and even though she vehemently denies being treated like the baby of the house, claiming that she is an adult with the body count and PTSD of a retired war soldier, no one cares. , she is the baby of the house and nothing will change that. Let Charlie say it, after a short conversation with the older Carmine sisters, she came out pale and shaking (she thinks she would faint when her future mother-in-law talked to her).

Odette is the oldest sister, Clara is the middle child and Vaggie as previously mentioned is stuck as the youngest child.

Clara is chaotic, extroverted and clearly has ADHD. She is the artist daughter, theater and cinema are her passions, even in hell she still writes some scripts and records short shorts during her days off, when she is not doing odd jobs as a DJ in the clubs in the lust ring (Carmilla obviously doesn't know from that). She is usually the one who gives the bad ideas, the one who drags her other two sisters into adventures or misadventures. She is a talker, a person who knows how to deal with the public, a stellar negotiator and salesperson. And well, she will do everything, everything, to make her sisters happy.

Odette is obviously the child whose mind never stops thinking of new ideas and theories. She is the inventor of the weapons produced by the Carmines industries, but she has her personal projects that don't involve military weapons, like gadgets to make her life easier, like her little robotic assistant ASSIs and her hellish computer because she's not using the fucking technology manipulated by the Vees. She's basically an Entrapta, autistic technological genius inventor. And it all started because she saw a plane take off and she wanted to do something similar. Carmilla had to prevent her daughter from meeting Jesus a few times (all 3 of them in fact, being little devils who got into trouble whether they wanted to or not). She just seems to be controlled and less chaotic than Clara, but anyone is less chaotic than the middle Carmine, but don't be fooled, just like the entrapta she's a bit of a mad scientist, but she and Vaggie usually reverse each other in controlling chaos. , normally she will agree with Clara's ideas at first and then bitterly regret having gone. Despite this, she feels responsible for her little sisters, so that they stay safe and well, she would do heinous things to care for and support the two idiots that her mother did the favor of tying her to forever.

And then we have Vaggie, you know how she is. But before the fall, even before her time as an exorcist, she was a quiet and shy but extremely curious child. She wasn't an artist like Clara or an inventor like Odette, in fact she was an explorer. Your eyes seeking to learn about the world around you, especially the little animals among the leaves. Loving every second he could spend outdoors watching the little ants do their work or exploring the forest or beach near his childhood home. Vaggie strangely has a chaotic streak, but is it completely by accident or because she went along with her sisters, usually she will be the voice of reason, but when is she not? Well, maybe hell's heaven will turn yellow and hot pink. Vaggie is autistic and I don't have much else to say other than: I love this headcanon and you can pry it from my cold, dead hands. Plus Vaggie would definitely lose her other eye to protect her sisters if she had to, but she'll never admit it, because she'll never hear the end of it if those two scoundrels hear it.

Yes, Carmilla has chaotic and neurodivergent daughters who would knock God off the throne if it were for their sisters, their mother is very proud.

(Sorry for the bad English, it's not my language, and the crazy text, but I've had this in my head for a while and I wanted to get it out, because I don't know when I'm going to write a fic with it.)

[fox-mulder-gets-pegged]

Rewatched the episode of House MD where Kutner dies and I honestly think instead of killing his character off, they should have said that Kutner got a job as physician to then President Barack Obama and that's why he was leaving. Objectively funnier since his actor did leave the show to work for Obama and I know it would have driven House nuts that Kutner was ditching to go play doctor with the President instead of getting verbally abused for House's amusement.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

I really need people to understand that they didn’t not listen to Cassandra because she was a woman she was quite literally cursed. Like Apollo got all pissy over something (varies from version to version yknow mythology stuff) like the gods tend to do and cursed her so that she could tell the future but no one would believe her. It was not because she was a woman like I’m begging you if you’re talking about people not listening to women talk about anybody else-

[ruthlesslistener]

listen I am about as pro-abortion as anyone can be, but aborting a baby just because they have Down's Syndrome should be fucking illegal. If you're someone who actively wants and is trying for a child, then you should be mentally, financially, and emotionally willing to provide for that child for the rest of your life if something goes wrong- because that is what being a good parent takes, and many many things can go wrong. Down's Syndrome is not at all close to the worst thing that can happen to a baby, and people with it can grow up to be happy, healthy, content adults- they just need a little bit of extra help and a different approach to raising them. If you just want a 'normal' child so that you can boot them out of your house when they turn 18 and have them around to take care of you when you're older, then you don't actually want children, you want an investment. A doll, not a family member. Not a person.

[lucyshypemaster]

i will never forget how almost the entire world basically wanted sophie dead in everblaze

[aflockofravens]

Holy fuck I just finished Attack on Titan and Jesus Christ did Mikasa get the short end of the stick

[teddykaczynski]

why does she have to be dating someone on top of everything else

[obessivedork]

TBH as a writer appreciating the set-up of a character I ADORE Vivienne but her lack of proper character arc & the inability to argue with her more is as infuriating as with most of your companions in DAI, if not more when you play a Mage because you CAN’T grab her by the shoulders and shake her and say Ma’am if you’d had worse luck and wound up literally anywhere other than the Circle you did wind up at you would be a fundamentally different person please for Maker’s sake admit out loud that you only like the Circles because you managed to etch yourself some limited social power out of the broken and corrupt system you might not otherwise have been able to get for yourself and therefore you have not suffered the true effects of it!!!!

[munch-mumbles]

ive been a little upset about it all night so i need to write out all the things that happened at work today and are bugging me so i can TRY to get it out of my head and actually RELAX bc i just keep pacing in circles around it instead of just accepting it and moving on