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literaryvein-reblogs · 3 months

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Writing Notes: On Colour

Describing Colour in your Poetry and Stories

BLACK Shadow Black, Dusk, Midnight, Blackbird, Blackberry, Ebony, Black Honey, Darkness, Jet Black, Ink Black, Soot, Onyx, Licorice, Ivory Black, Pitch, Char, Gloom, Outer Space, Creosote Black, Melanite, Goth Black, Gunpowder

BLUE Blueberry, Sapphire Blue Metallic, Tiffany Blue (Pantone 1837), Cobalt Blue, Denim, Aquamarine, Turquoise, Sky Blue, Topaz, Ultramarine Blue, Azure, Cerulean, Oxford Blue, Periwinkle, Electric Blue, Baby Boy Blue, Pthalo Blue, Robin's Egg Blue, Persian Blue, Marino Blue, Prussian Blue

GREEN Leafy Green, Olive, Moss Green, Jade, Lime, Sour Apple Green, Emerald Green, Mint, Kiwi Green, Phthalo Green, Praying Mantis Green, Viridian, Greenback, Shamrock, Sap Green, Chartreuse, Sea Green, Pistachio, Teal, Bamboo, Sea Salt, Celadon Green, Celery, Asparagus Green, Fern Green, Neon Green, Jungle Green, Pear Green

ORANGE Pumpkin, Burnt Orange, Carrot, Sunset Orange, Tangerine, Persimmon, Salamander, Tennessee Orange (Pantone 151), Jack-o'-lantern Orange, Florida Orange, Summer Squash, Pale Daffodil, Smashed Pumpkin, Saffron, Autumn Orange, Macaroni and Cheese, Cadmium Orange

PINK Pink Flamingo, Neon Pink, Bubblegum Pink, Salmon, Peach, Fuscia, Cotton Candy Pink, Rose, Carnation, Thulian, Apricot, Atomic Pink, Barbie Pink, Hot Pink, Amaranth, Flushed, Glitter Pink

PURPLE Lavender, Purple Haze, Grape, Eggplant Purple, Plum, Violet, Orchid, Psychedelic Purple, Amethyst, Lilac, Boysenberry, Mulberry, Wisteria, Bruised Plum, Indigo, Mauve

RED Blood Red, Copper, Maroon, Strawberry, Watermelon Red, Crimson, Candy Apple Red, Tomato, Brick Red, Scarlet, Cardinal Red, Cherry, Ruby Red, Coral, Sunburn, Hot Lava, Cadmium Red, Auburn, Blush, Alizarin Crimson, Fire Engine Red, Raspberry, Vermillion, Lipstick, Burgundy, Magenta, English Vermilion, Mahogany

WHITE Dirty White, Albino, Chalk, Alabaster, Cotton, Titanium White, Vanilla, Bone White Egg Shell, Marshmallow, Ivory, Pearl White, Almond, Champagne, Blond, Cream, Milky White, Corn Silk, Bleach, Navajo White, Ghost White, Light, Cloud White

YELLOW Canary Yellow, Lemon, Banana, Egg Yolk Yellow, Mellow Yellow, Chanterelle, Mustard Yellow, Corn, Goldenrod, Amber, Pineapple, Metallic Gold, Cadmium Yellow, Wheat, Tuscan Sun, Butter, School Bus Yellow, Yellow Ochre, Citron, Dandelion

BROWN Mud Brown, Beaver, Caramel, Rust, Macaroon, Toasty Brown, Coffee, Sandy Tan, Cocoa, Honey, Chocolate, Burnt Sienna, Mocha, Seashell, Antique Brass, Bronze, Brown Sugar, Chestnut Brown, Taupe, Burnt Umber, Khaki, Dark Sienna, Light Chocolate, Sepia

GRAY Stone Gray, Ash, Metallic Silver, Platinum, Smoke, Concrete Gray, Mercury, Steel Gray, Mist, Titanium, Charcoal, Slate, Sterling Silver, Tungsten, Old Coin Gray, Iron Gray, Chrome, Magnesium, Overcast

MIXED Candy Cane (red and white), Zebra (black and white), Chameleon (many different colours), Ladybug (black and red), Wildfire (yellow, orange and red), Tiger (orange, black and white), Yellow Jacket (black and yellow), Christmas Lights (red, white and green), Rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet), Black Pepper (black and gray), Leopard (spotted gold and black), Creamsicle (orange and white), Candy Corn (orange and white), Iceberg (a bluish gray), Marbled

COLOURS: Symbolisms, Associations & Psychological Effects

Black. Especially in Gothic literature from the West, a black colour choice often represents death, evil, grief, and depression. Associated with fear, the unknown and often has a negative connotation. Black clothes can make you look thinner. A black background severely diminishes the readability of most type. Often the go to colour for funerals and grieving. It symbolizes stability and power, which gives a sense of authority. Thus, the black colour often represents professionalism and expertise.

Blue. Has positive and negative connotations in colour psychology. Some writers may use blue to represent serenity and tranquility, instilling a scene with a calming effect. Blue can also signify sadness, melancholy, or isolation. People who find someone very loyal and faithful are often called "true blue". Blue is often considered to be more masculine which is why it is often the colour of choice when choosing a suit. Lighter blues are associated with tranquility, softness and healing. Darker blues are associated with power, knowledge and seriousness. Blue is actually shown to suppress appetites a bit. The colour blue symbolizes wisdom and hope. It’s the colour of peace and confidence. Blue has been shown to reduce blood pressure and pulse rate. It fosters serenity and a sense of belonging.

Green. The colour green often symbolizes rebirth, growth, peace, jealousy, and greed. Green colours may also represent spring and renewal. It is a colour that is very easy on the eyes. Dark green is often associated with ambition. Green suggests stability, safety and hope. At the same time, it may denote a lack of experience in a particular field. Green symbolizes peace, growth, and nature. It is the colour of success, promoting healing and tranquility.

Orange. The colour orange often represents energy, excitement, joy, and creativity. Since orange is the colour of fire, it may also symbolize heat. Since orange is not as aggressive as red, it can actually stimulate brain activity. It is very useful to catch someone's attention, which is why it's used a lot to advertise food and toys.

Pink. The colour pink symbolizes love, kindness, femininity, innocence, and playfulness. Certain shades of pink can limit aggression. Pink may be associated with unconditional love and caring.

Purple. Often associated with royalty, the colour purple symbolizes bravery, spirituality, and luxury. Light purple usually brings up romantic or nostalgic feelings; while a darker shade can make you feel gloomy or sad.

Red. The colour red symbolizes some of the most powerful human emotions, like passionate love or lust. On the other side of the spectrum, this warm colour is also the colour of blood, often symbolizing anger, danger, and violence. It stimulates the appetite. Red is an emotionally intense colour associated with energy, danger, anger, passion and determination. The symbolic meaning associated with the colour red is passion, excitement, and love. It’s the colour of urgency, power, and desire. Red is said to boost hunger and is believed to inspire confidence and excitement. This colour has also been found to increase blood pressure and heart rate.

White. This primary colour traditionally symbolizes innocence, peace, and cleanliness. In Western cultures, the colour white also represents purity and virginity, while it symbolizes mourning in some East Asian cultures. Usually has positive connotations when used and thought of as safe. Associated a lot with healing, simplicity and sterility, which is why it's used in hospitals and healing centers as much as it is. The symbolic meaning of the colour white is truth and sometimes even indifference. It encourages feelings of safety and cleanliness. Clean, white clothes and linens show sterility since stains are easily visible. That’s why doctors and nurses frequently wear white lab coats and scrubs.

Yellow. Writers may use the colour yellow to symbolize creativity, happiness, optimism, and warmth—think of a yellow ray of sunlight poking out from a dark cloud. A common negative connotation of the color yellow is cowardice, popularized by the phrase “yellow-bellied.” Warming effect which stimulates body and mind. Gold is associated with the highest of luxury. When bright yellow is used with black it's one of the easiest colour combinations to see from long distances; when uses with lighter colours it's not so easy to see. Yellow ribbons are worn as a symbol of hope and used quite often to welcome home loved ones. Yellow is the colour of warmth, kindness, and happiness. It’s often associated with optimism and well-being and promotes energy.

Brown. This warm, earthy brown colour may symbolize dependability, comfort, and a sense of being grounded. Brown is also a neutral colour, and writers may use it to represent dullness and predictability. Brown is a colour that is related to very grounded traits such as simplicity, practicality, common sense and hard work. Can also be associated with those that are frugal and not too flashy.

Gray. Lighter grays are often thought of as more feminine while darker grays more masculine. Gray is considered by many to be a neutral colour; the perfect balance between light and dark / good and evil. Pop up the lighter grays and add a little shine to it, and thought immediately turns to silver, which correlates to wealth.

Sources & other related articles: 1 2 3 4 5

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f3mme-f4tale · 5 months

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which witch

part one

word count: 4k potential warnings: potential depictions of violence, sexual content, fingering (r! receiving) adult themes (explicit language), tension, angst, world building, more to come... pairing: rebel!ellie x princess!reader (categorized within the knight!ellie aesthetic)

authors note: there are some influences from game of thrones! :))

A cloud of gray smoke lingered above the vine-infested concrete walls of the booming city, machinery roaring to life and wildering conversations floating in the thick air. A war was looming over the Sovereign City, an invading force from the south eagerly plowing through the skin-biting tundra. The hundreds of guilds within the city's walls fed the economy, although some whisper that underground trading of magic folk is what really fuels the financial state. A spy for the rebellion circled the local market, running her hands over the bruised fruit and eyeing the common folk cautiously, trying her best to go undetected. The city center was preparing for the Sun Festival, ironic given the smog that shielded nearly all sunlight.

A local fruit stand was at the center of the market, an older gentleman staffing the exotic fruit from outside the city walls. Bright, intricate starfruit and jelly-filled strawberry papayas littered the concrete mosaic ground. A small goat with a blue bell was tied haphazardly to a post, the yarn fraying with every slight tug from the animal. A group of children dressed in muted shades of brown and green played a game of dice on the other side of the courtyard, daring each other to steal blackberries. The butcher’s son was pushing a small wagon of discarded meat and small fish bones towards an alley, likely to discard the leftovers.

The spy was adorned in local fabrics, muted mismatched stitching holding together a quilt-like material that resembled a shawl. Her deep maple hair cascaded down her neck with a simple silver pin holding some pieces out of her face. Her fingertips were stained with nightshade, her left-hand concealing a small dagger. The weapon was known for immediately striking down any foe, its metal laced with poison. Magic folk and creatures were no exception, despite their enchantments. An abstract fox decorated the handle, a symbol of the rebellion against the empire. On her hip was a small satchel containing various assortments of herbs, sliced plum mushrooms, and powdered oleander seeds. Being a spy, a magic one at that, had its benefits.

The spy detected a woman pocketing something from a guard across the courtyard. She watched her scurry away down an alley, not before stealing a fig from one of the stands. With the day being as slow as it had been, she reasoned that any mischief became her mischief. As she made her way towards where the other woman went, her grip tightened on the weapon. Upon turning down the alley, she seemingly vanished. It was not often that the spy’s prey escaped her sight, not since she was a child at least. At the last possible moment, a speck of red disappeared through a doorway fifty feet in front of her. Swallowing a sigh, she followed.

Inside was a desolate old factory, broken machinery sprawled across the floor and spray paint covering the walls. Sigils were marked on the concrete ground – emblems and allegories from The Blackmoor Book. She questioned how someone within the walls could have such knowledge, risking the high court finding such symbolism.

What was this place?

She did not dwindle on this apprehension long, sinking into the shadows and scanning the place for that woman. A crackly, high-pitched laugh erupted from the other side of the room. Before thinking twice, the spy was across the room in mere seconds, her knife pressed firmly against the mystery woman’s throat, as if in reflex.

“Ya know for as skilled as you are, I figured you’d recognize me,” the woman pestered, her dialect thick. The spy could place the voice, but the face was distant from her mind. The blade stayed against her throat, the pressure never wavering.

“Ellie,” she cooed, “it’s me.”

There was nothing I could do. My feet were lodged between the large stones that decorated the bottom of the fast river, the murky sand blinding my vision and setting my lungs on fire. I was becoming weak, fighting a losing battle with the force of the water. I wanted to give up, to let the depths swallow me whole and my mind run blank. My fingers just barely reached the surface, scratching at the sliver of life that was never fully mine. The anxiety was bubbling up from my stomach and began to make me tremble with complete fear; I wasn’t getting out of this.

Once, when I was young, I would swim in streams and small rivers just like this one. Uncle would be back at the village, father out with the council. My older foster brother would often join me, teaching me how to catch the fish and which plants could be used for medicine. When it was a quiet day, we would read books to the frogs and small insects. Now, at the precipice of death, I can only focus on the day he showed me how to fashion an arrowhead. On how his fingers made sharp movements and the glimmer in his eyes was its purest. He was the mouth of God; I took his words as religion. But he wasn’t there.

My arms grew numb, my body losing sensation. This was it. This was how I was finally going. I screamed against the current and inhaled the river. As my vision darkened and I began to accept defeat, I remembered the reason I was trying to traverse across in the first place; the heaviness of the guilt weighing me down. I made a promise, I swore to him. They were going to die, and it was all my fault. It was a mistake to think I could perform this journey alone, inexperienced.

And then I could breathe again. My fingers dug at my chest, eagerly gasping for air. My eyes burned from the sunlight, my right ankle adorning a jagged cut from the rock that once imprisoned me. My savior hovered above me, breathing just as heavily as I was. Where did they come from?

“T-thank you,” I managed to get out once the anxiety subsided, my throat still burning.

Hesitantly, I glanced up in their direction. They were drenched in luminance, a godliness highlighting their physique, black paint dancing across their nose. Meeting their enticing eyes, I realized I recognized them. A local girl a year older than me from the village, her hair tied tight against her head and half of her body soaking wet. She offered me a curt nod, adjusting the straps on her satchel and securing a few stray pieces of hair. The outfit she wore was jarring, nothing like the large tunics the women wore at home. The breeches and sleek overcoat were skin-tight, a throwing knife strapped securely to her thigh. She did not say anything back, leaving me as fast as she appeared.

“Dina,” Ellie mumbled, her voice rough against the soothing nature of Dina’s. Her eyes scanned the other's face, the memories of her childhood friend rushing back to her like a tidal wave. The same black paint was decorated across her nose, symbolizing her coven. Ellie let her guard down, the blade dropping to her side. The sigils made sense then – she grew up in the same village beyond this city within the Withering Woods, learned from the same potions master, and drank the same Mistmoor river water. Their village Jackson’s Crossing, surrounded by the White Mountains and often disregarded on official cartographer maps, was a cloister of small families from varied ethnicities.

Dina’s fingers were also stained a dark purple – evidence of witchcraft. The last time they had seen each other was years prior, back when Ellie was recruited to fight against the tyranny of the High Ruler, who came into power with varying degrees of support from the public. The last she heard of Dina was that she had joined a coven, practicing magic in secret.

She had grown a lot since their last encounter, her scarlet hair now many inches longer and herself several inches taller. They spared each other the formalities in catching up, Ellie reaching for the item Dina snatched from the unsuspecting general just beyond the door. She let her, Ellie’s mind working through possibilities as she brought the ring of keys closer. She should have known; such an item was predictable. Although, what did Dina need them for?

“Trying to sneak someone out of the dungeons, hmm?” she finally spoke, placing her dagger back into the depths of her clothing. Dina smiled at Ellie again, raising her eyebrows and letting her face do the talking. “Ah, well, sneaking into prison seems more your speed anyways.”

“The council has been very unyielding in my request for an audience,” she began, walking a few steps away from Ellie. “So, I’ve had to find my own ways.”

“Why do you wish to speak to them?” Ellie questioned, puzzled as to what her companion could want with them. Dina’s gaze meant nothing but trickery, her smile growing wider and wider. Whatever her intentions, Ellie considered leeching on, her own assignment from the Rebellion creating a need to be inside those palace walls – although for a quite different reason.

“Remember Jesse?” she smirks, running a hand through her locks. Ellie snorts at this – because of course she remembers Jesse, how could she not? They were practically joined at the hip before Ellie left Jackson.

“He’s gotta learn to keep his mouth shut in front of the guards. He’s so pretty, but he can be pretty thick headed sometimes,” Dina scolds, shaking her head. “So, naturally, they’ve finally decided to sentence him after years of causing mayhem.”

“Well, I want in,” Ellie says coldly, adjusting with the fabric that covers her shoulder. Dina squints at her friend, questioning her motivations. “I’ve got orders to relocate a member of the royal family, per the Rebellion's bequest.”

Deep viridian ivy covers the cobblestones and beige pillars of the courtyard, dark shadows stretching up the walls. Rain litters the ground, the damp air an inviting aroma. Billowing clouds darken the sky, the thunder a welcoming presence.

You’re sitting at a desk, candlelight framing your face as you attempt to read the book in your hands. It’s no use however, as your mind is swirling with a million different thoughts. The betrayal of your father cuts deep; all that remains is the stark reality of your pain. You trace the outline of the candle's flame with trembling fingers, its flickering dance mirroring your thundering heartbeat.

A knock at the door interrupts your spiral, haphazardly setting down your book and the weight of the chair creaking as you stand. A woman is on the other side, her curly black hair cascading down her back. The servant's uniform does her no justice, her figure cloaked in a tunic two sizes too big. You raise an eyebrow, questioning the intruder at such a late hour.

“Yes?” you ask, voice wavering slightly. You know she can see the dismay in your face, your eyes all too forgiving. You instinctively hunch your shoulders, nails pushing into the meat of your palm, knuckles turning white.

“Lord David sent me to draw you a bath, my lady. He wants you to be clean and fresh for your engagement tomorrow,” she responds, bowing her head. She holds clean linens and a sponge in her hand, a slight look of sorrow crossing her face that you almost miss. You step aside begrudgingly, letting her through.

Large buckets of water make their rounds over the fire as the servant works to untie the laces of your bodice, making quick work of the material. The cool air filtering through the partially opened window makes your skin grow cold, the woman helping you out your chemise, body bare to her wandering gaze. Her hands were warm, a stir emerging within your gut. You always disliked having other people bath you, yet you found yourself straightening your back, showing off. She made eye contact with you, half slitted pupils devouring your form. You welcomed this, using your left hand to remove a pin that was keeping your braids in place. She steps behind you to begin dumping the contents of the bucket into a metal tub.

And then suddenly the servant is several inches away, hands agonizingly tracing your shoulders, her breath hot on your neck. She places a small kiss just underneath your ear, a shudder escaping your lips as you tentatively close your eyes. You’d never had someone approach you this way, not unless you count the several forty-something year old male suitors that you had declined since you turned sixteen years ago.

The servant uses one hand to pull your hair over to one shoulder as the other palms your bare stomach. You suck in a breath, not pushing her away. You knew this was wrong, save for the fact that she was another woman. What would your father say? What would the maids whisper to each other when they thought no one was looking?

Despite protests shouting against your very core, you remained still, leaning into her frame. You could feel her breasts pressing into your back, her right hand dancing dangerously close to the space between your legs. Her left hand dragged across your chest, fingers grazing and pulling. When her right hand plunged into your slick, you leaned your head back against her shoulder.

“Lay down, my lady,” she murmured, gently moving your already wrecked body towards the bed in the corner. You obliged, sitting on the edge. She pushed you down, immediately dropping down to her knees. You were new to this, not even daring to touch yourself. Her mouth felt foreign on your pelvis, but you bucked up into her face regardless.

Her tongue slid across you, pink bud becoming raw from the friction. When she pushed two fingers inside of you, a borderline scream escaped your delicate lips. The swell of your breasts bounced as she began to pick up her pace, rocking your body against the frame of the bed and adding another slender digit. Her tongue continues its assault on your clit, forcing you to take it, to take all of it.

It’s over before you realize, her face covered in you. You pull her up by the collar of her uniform, forcing her lips against yours. She’s taken aback at first, but then melts into the embrace. She’s sticking her tongue into your mouth, the taste of you invading and arousing.

“As much as I’d love to continue Princess,” the woman says suddenly, breaking the kiss. “I did come here to bathe you.” You nod, suddenly extremely aware of your surroundings and how easily you folded under her touch – a woman’s touch.

As she dumped another bucket of hot water into the metal tub, you gazed off absentmindedly. Her coarse fingers work through your locks, detangling the pieces that frame your face.

“You’re so beautiful, but you have to keep him happy. He gets bored easily.”

You glance over at her, noticing the way the fireplace behind her makes her skin glow.

“I don’t want you to end up, well, like the others,” she sighs, moving to grab a rag to clean your skin with. You were so used to the mindless handling of your body that sometimes you forgot how vulnerable you could be.

“W-what others?” you croaked, tension once again creeping up your spine and through your fingers. You felt her movements stiffen, realizing she spoke out of turn.

“Oh, I shouldn’t, it’s all hearsay. I apologize, my lady,” she replies, her actions becoming more disorderly. You watch her closely, her sudden discomfort adding another layer of unease to the already heavy atmosphere. Despite her attempt to backtrack, your curiosity is piqued, and you press further.

"No, please, tell me," you insist, your voice barely above a whisper. She hesitates, torn between loyalty to her lord and a desire to warn you. Finally, she speaks, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire.

"There have been others before you," she begins, her words careful and measured. "Women who were... chosen, like you." Your heart pounds in your chest, the implications of her words sinking in. You swallow hard, pushing down the rising sense of dread threatening to overwhelm you.

"What happened to them?" you ask, your voice trembling despite your efforts to remain composed. She hesitates again, her gaze dropping to the floor as if unable to meet your eyes.

"They... disappeared," she murmurs, her voice barely audible. "Some say that he grows tired of his playthings, discarding them when they no longer amuse him, banished to distant lands never to return. Others whisper darker tales of rituals and… well," she clarifies, her hands shaking as she runs her nimble fingers through your hair once more.

You struggle to process the implications of her revelation, the realization dawning on you with sickening clarity. "You mean... they're dead?" you whisper, the words feeling foreign and surreal on your tongue. You turn to her fully, putting on a show of false confidence. “This is my home. He can’t frighten me.”

“Of course, my lady. Forgive me.”

You nod, still reeling from her earlier words. As she finishes bathing you, you're left alone with your thoughts once more. The warmth of the water does little to soothe the chill in your bones, the weight of impending responsibilities pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

“Will I see you again?” You mumble, eyes pleading with the woman as she’s half way out of your chamber, a robe now draped around your figure. A frown catches her lips, a sigh is all the answer you need.

“I’m afraid not,” she finally answers, yet doesn’t move from her place at the door. You feel your stomach drop, reaching out to catch her lips in a kiss once more. This one is less aggressive, a plea for more. She cups your cheek softly, kissing you back. “It’s not safe. We live in a world where desires are often sacrificed for duty.”

As she finally steps away, you watch her silhouette fade into the dimly lit corridor beyond your chamber. A sense of loss washes over you, as you're left in the silence of your chambers. The flames of the candles flicker ominously, casting dancing shadows on the walls. You try to shake off the unease settling in your chest, but the seed of doubt planted by the woman’s words grows with each passing moment.

You know you should rest, to prepare yourself for the challenges that lie ahead, but sleep eludes you. Instead, you find yourself pacing the room, the echoes of your footsteps mingling with the whispers of your own fears.

This union is a death sentence, a promise made to satisfy your fathers requests. Your older sister was the next in line to rule, your brother already married off to a Duchess in the East. You would never sit on the throne; the pressure of said title always out of reach but forever a taunt. You could taste the longing for power – a snake wrapping around your heart, squeezing.

By marrying Lord David, you help ease the emerging tensions between the East and South kingdoms within the empire. It had long been kept secret that you were a bastard, a lie living a life of luxury. Guilt ate away at you from every inch of your skin, your real mother a ghost of your past. Of course, maids and servants talked. That said, the effort to uphold the ruler's dignity and honor reigned supreme; Those who were caught gossiping would meet a punishment worse than castration.

You understand the importance of maintaining stability within the empire, of ensuring peace between rival factions. But on the other hand, there's the gnawing fear that grips you, the fear of being trapped in a loveless marriage, of becoming just another casualty in the game of power and ambition.

You remember the stories you heard as a child, tales of kings and queens whose lives were dictated by duty rather than desire. You used to dream of a different fate for yourself, of finding love and happiness on your own terms. But now, as the reality of your situation sinks in, those dreams seem like distant echoes of a naive past.

Tomorrow, you will be betrothed to a man you hardly know; a union forged by politics and alliances. When morning comes, you will rise with a sense of resignation, steeling yourself for the path laid out before you.

Dawn breaks upon a canvas of melancholy, the sky adorned in swathes of slate-hued clouds. You dress in a gown of regal elegance, each layer of silk and lace feeling like a shroud closing in around you. Your reflection in the mirror is a stranger's face, masked behind a facade of composure that belies the turmoil within. As you fasten the intricate clasps of your necklace – a delicate chain of platinum interwoven with strands of glistening rhodonite and sunstone – you can't help but wonder if you're adorning yourself for a wedding or a funeral.

Downstairs, guests mingle in clusters of polished nobility. Their smiles are as artificial as the flowers adorning the tables, masking the alliances and rivalries that simmer beneath the surface. You navigate the crowd with practiced grace, exchanging pleasantries and feigned enthusiasm.

In the grand hall, where sunlight filters through stained glass, illuminating the opulence of the surroundings, you stand amidst a sea of faces, each one a mask concealing clandestine desires. At the center of it all stands Lord David, a towering figure of authority and ambition. His gaze finds yours across the room, a flicker of something unreadable passing between you before he turns to greet another guest.

His eyes, like shards of obsidian, pierce through the veneer of social niceties. As he acknowledges your presence with a nod of his head, you offer a polite smile, concealing the turmoil churning within your breast. His lips curve in response, but there is a hardness in his gaze. With unspoken haste, the sea of guests transitioned into the next room, organizing into rows.

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns of color upon the assembled guests. The delicate lace of your veil cascaded like a waterfall around you, framing your face in a halo of soft radiance. Lord David, regal and imposing, awaited you at the altar.

As you drew near, the murmurs of the crowd fell silent, and all that remained was the steady rhythm of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. With each step, you felt the weight of expectation pressing down upon you, the gravity of the moment settling like a cloak upon your shoulders.

At last, you stood face to face with Lord David, your hands trembling slightly as you clasped his in yours. The officiant's voice filled the air, the solemn words of the vows binding you together. His grip tightened at your wrists, thumb pressing into your pressure point. You fought against the sinking feeling in your chest, the fear washing over your features.

Concealed behind a pillar, at the room's farthest edge, stood a guest with a blade, its hilt adorned with an abstract fox; A silent sentinel amidst the opulent chaos. Their gaze, like a river's current, flows over your form, lingering on each curve and contour with a cautious reverence. The bodice of the gown hugs your frame, accentuating the gentle curve of your waist before giving way to a voluminous skirt that pools around your feet in a sea of soft fabric. Layers upon layers of tulle and organza lend an air of weightless beauty to the ensemble, each fold and pleat catching the light in a mesmerizing dance.

The spy stole a final glance at the princess, and for a brief moment, she could've sworn she saw a glimmer of fear entrenched in your gaze. Rancorously, Ellie envisioned taking a blade to Lord David's throat and smiling as the congealed mess of his arteries betrayed him. She shoved the wrinkled piece of parchment into the confines of her satchel. Her mission began.

Secure the youngest daughter of the sovereign.

taglist: @seraphicsentences @onlinelesbo @yumimak @elliewilliamsblunt @bready101

#tlou2 #ellie williams #fanfic #lesbian #tlou #ellie x reader #wlw #ellie x fem reader #free palestine #ellie williams fic

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flightrising · 21 days

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Autumn, our heart says autumn. We're ready for autumn.

Audio: Autumn Chill Mood LoFi HipHop by ComatSounds

DRAGON INFORMATION

Pumpkin Dragon: A Fathom in Golden Harvest set, Chrysocolla/Malachite/Scales

Apple Dragon: An Imperial in Rose Harvest set with a Scarlet Unicorn Mane, Iridescent/Shimmer/Stained

Cinnamon Dragon: A Wildclaw in Sangria Harvest set with a Sunrise Unicorn Mane, Cinder/Blaze/Filigree

Blackberry Dragon: A Snapper in Viridescent Harvest set with Starlight Unicorn Mane, Boulder/Myrid/Flecks

Berry Dragon: A Skydancer in Dark Harvest set with Flaxen Unicorn Mane, Fern/Paisley/Underbelly

Ginger Dragon: A Ridgeback in Viridescent Harvest set, Fade/Blend/Wish

Caramel Dragon: A Guardian in Autumn Harvest set, Flaunt/Flair/Glimmer

Latte Dragon: A Fathom in Copper Harvest set, Fern/Myrid/Points

[Video Description] A vertical video that opens with a black screen. As the autumn themed lofi hiphop music fades in, a gentle string with an organ playing under it, gold text begins appearing via a retro typing effect and the text reads The Calendar says August but our heart says and holds for a moment. Then the beat drops, giving the string and organ melodies an uptempo vibe and the video transitions to a triple pumpkin Fathom dragon, followed by the following in a reasonably rapid succession: a triple red Imperial representing apples, a triple Cinnamon Wildclaw, a triple Blackberry Snapper, a triple Berry Skydancer, a triple Ginger Ridgeback, a triple Caramel Guardian, and finally a triple Latte Fathom dragon. All of the dragons are wearing different colors of the Harvest set apparel, which includes a robe, filigree metal jewelry that appears as grapevines, and hanging grapes and leaves on the headpieces and wingpieces. Apple, Cinnamon, Berry, and Blackberry also have long color coordinated braided manes. For each dragon, the following words appear in the same retro type effect, but with the matching Flight Rising color wheel color of the autumn spice or scent the dragon is representing: Pumpkin, Apple, Cinnamon, Blackberry, Berry, Ginger, Caramel, and Latte. The video then fades to the Flight Rising logo and remains there as the music fades out.

#Flight Rising #FlightRising #Dragon #Dragons #Autumn #LoFi #Virtual Pet #Video #Digital Art #Art

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biscuit-babbles · 8 months

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HSR Men Omegaverse (A/B/O) Scents

To pair with the dynamics headcanons list, I'm going to do a short and sweet one about their scents! Also, this headcanon will be taking some inspiration from @daylightdabbles's Teyvat Omegaverse AU, but is not required to read beforehand!

Rating: SFW Warnings: None Characters: Caelus, Dan Heng, Welt, Gepard, Sampo, Luka, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Blade, Argenti, Dr Ratio, Aventurine + Gallagher Summary: What scents help to identify each of the HSR men?

Scent has always been a bit of an odd topic for CAELUS, considering the stellaron pulsing in his chest. While it doesn't seem to be hurting him, it does affect his scent, though fortunately to not such a degree that it's concerning. All it does, fortunately, is add a burnt note to it, making Caelus smell distinctly of a smore that had been left over the fire a bit too long. His scent isn't really sweet nor earthy, but a compromise between the two, with hints of metal heated by licking flames.

As opposed to being just odd, DAN HENG's relationship with his scent is a bit of a sore subject. Even though the scent is entirely his and not swayed by his environment, there's still notes to it that are reminiscent of the Xianzhou by association. Because of this, he tries to nullify it as much as possible, without completely canceling it out. His scent consists of weathered paper, sea spray, and peach trees.

One of the most comforting scents you can come across belongs to Joachim Nokianvirtanen, also known as WELT. By now, it's a staple of the Astral Express, soothing those that board the express and allowing them a comfortable passage. He smells of sandalwood, warm bread, and hot cocoa. It's not overpowering, but it lingers longer than most.

As a beta, GEPARD's scent carries traces of his beloved home, Belebog, as well as his own identifying scent. The cold sting of wintery air and the lingering of rusted metal is paired with rosemary and chamomile tea. Contrasting Welt, Gepard's scent is very strong, filling one's entire chest, but the bitter cold and winds tend to sweep it away almost the moment he leaves a room.

It's hard to say that SAMPO even has a real scent anymore. He has caked on so many perfumes, colognes, and even scent blockers that it's a weird hodgepodge of different scents, just as chaotic as the Aeon he follows. Depending on the day or placement, you can smell an assortment of spiced and floral scents, with the only constant being the lingering of raspberries and blackberries.

Everyone in The Moles knows that if you're in danger, to follow the scent of grilled steak, as it will inevitably lead to LUKA. Though, grilled steak isn't the only thing he smells like, with it being accompanied by the scents of black pepper and citrus. It's a thick, comforting scent, but has the tendency to make others hungry if they spend too much time around him.

It's fortunate for those working under JING YUAN that he smells not only remarkably pleasant, but that the scent itself isn't overbearing. One can only truly describe his scent as 'clean', often being likened to a windy meadow. Jing Yuan usually smells of a mild breeze, wildflowers, and oranges. Though, whenever he's angry or in the heat of battle, it tends to be darkened by the scent of oncoming rain and storm clouds, as if disturbing the previously still meadow.

Traveling place to place as an omega has meant that LUOCHA's scent has.. wavered, for lack of a better term. Omegas typically smell like home, the things they surround themselves with. That's hard to do when your surroundings change daily. It's caused plenty of alphas and betas alike to be confused and unnerved by him, but other omegas find him quite charming. If you take a deep breath, however, you can make out the airy scent of lilies, polish for his rapier, and the fruity scent of his shampoo.

A long, long time ago, there was a craftsman who was said to have smelled of passion and the forge itself. But that man is long gone, leaving BLADE behind in his wake. While Yingxing's original scent disappeared along with him, Blade finds that he is now identified by the scents of smoldering embers, dew-laden spider lilies, and cinnamon. Whenever he finds himself mara stricken or enraged, the embers flare up, leaving the distinct smell of smoke and hot metal. Though, when he's content, it's said to be a comforting scent.

One of the things ARGENTI prides himself on as a Knight of Beauty is his scent. It stood out from the scents of smoldering rubble and fear that clung to his hometown, but has since been embraced as proof he was meant to follow the Beauty. Not very many alphas have such tender, floral scents as him. He smells of freshly cut roses, an early morning fog, and the heart of a lush forest.

Frankly, DR RATIO doesn't concern himself much with his own scent. It's simply a biological fact to him, it doesn't need any further attention nor dressing up. Though he can't help the flattered feeling that swells in his chest whenever he catches someone swooning over his scent, which tends to linger heavily wherever he goes. Dr Veritas Ratio smells of pomegranate, sandalwood, and buttered toast.

Another person that hides their scent often is AVENTURINE, who never allows his true scent to show. Scents are like facial expressions, they can betray your true intentions, and Aventurine refuses to have anything but a perfect poker face. Hidden under layers of strong colognes and scent blockers, locked away from the public eye and only kept the secrecy of Aventurine's own room, is the scent of vanilla, shea butter, and blueberries.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, GALLAGHER is constantly surrounded by scents, and finds a sense of comfort in their expression. It's said that he even smells like a perfectly blended drink himself, with a sweet but savory blend that seems to take the edge off of most he comes into contact with. Gallagher smells of fresh grapes, strawberry schnapps, and rose.

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petalsthefish · 7 months

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Genius

Summary:

After Lily breaks her iPhone, she finds herself at the Genius Bar on Valentines Day, and an old flame is there to help her in all things technology and romance.

read on A03

Marlene McKitten: babes you're missing out on blackberry margs!!

Lily Evans: I’m sorry! It was the only time I could schedule a time for my phone to get fixed!

Marlene McKitten: you just hate me, its okay, you can say it

Lily Evans: you’re a drama queen, Marlene McKinnon

Marlene McKitten: you love me anyways…find me a hot date at the apple store so I can get discounts!!

Lily Evans: if I find a hot guy he’s mine for the night

Marlene McKitten: further proof that you hate me

Lily Evans: I’m here. … Pray this doesn’t take five hours and I can come meet you for drinks.

Marlene McKitten: how hard will it be to replace a screen? … I bet I could do it myself with youtube and a little superglue

Lily did not reply back to her friend, she didn’t have the heart to tell Marlene that superglue and youtube weren’t the answer for everything. Even if superglue had proven effective at keeping Lily’s favorite mug together after it broke in the dishwasher.

Lily just couldn’t believe she was spending her free time at the Apple Store because she'd somehow cracked her phone screen. In all her years of owning a phone, of course it would be the most expensive phone she’d ever had that broke. Even her flimsy flip phone had been more sturdy than her iphone.

“Hi, are you here for an appointment?” A scrawny kid about her age asked, holding the iPad too close to his face as he approached her near the front doors.

Lily nodded quickly. “Yeah, Lily Evans, for a screen repair.”

“Gotcha.” The kid's nametag read ‘Peter,’ and he barely looked up at her as he typed away on his screen. “I checked you in; just go wait at the Genius Bar.”

“Thanks.”

Lily maneuvered around the cramped store, sighing all the while as she made her way to the Genius Bar. It was rather depressing to be alone on Valentine's Day, but it was almost extra disappointing that she’d had to skip lunch with her girlfriends to come here. Lily couldn’t believe she was missing out on the tacos at Casa Grande, a tradition that went all the way back to Uni. She nervously picked at the crack on her screen, most annoyed that she’d somehow forgotten to add the screen protector when she got her new case two months ago. Another sigh escaped her lips before she finally took a look at her surroundings.

There were three boys at the counter, each of them so different from the other. The first, on Lily’s left, was a bloke with a leather jacket, emitting a touch of emo metal head from his persona. The one on the right definitely looked like he belonged at the Genius Bar in the Apple Store, thanks to his perfectly pressed sweater vest and nicely combed hair. The man leaning against the table opposite Lily, typing into his iPad, was a sporty-looking bloke wearing slacks with a rumpled button-down shirt.

She thought to herself, Actually, no, that sporty bloke looks really familiar… Oh.

It hit her like a freight train.

She couldn’t remember his name for the life of her, but he’d somehow gotten hotter in the year since they graduated from college. It’d been almost that much time since they’d danced at a party, stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom, and he’d fucked her on his bed. Not even a quick go. No, she had woken up in his bed to find his arms around her, her clothes all over the room, and her phone dead from going all night without a charger.

He’d been such a gentleman when he woke up. He had practically stumbled over his words when he realized she was there, in his bed, naked with him. They had both been drunk, so even he admitted it had probably been a bad idea. They’d parted ways an hour later, Lily promising that she’d be okay to walk back to her dorm, and he had let her go so she assumed he really hadn’t wanted anything more than a once go in the sheets.

More than once, she'd thought about this bloke, wondering what happened to him.

His black hair was in a mess of waves around his head, and he didn't look up from his iPad as she stared in shock. She didn’t know what she’d say to him if they did make eye contact. The last thing she’d said to him was ‘thanks for the sex’ which somehow grew more and more embarrassing the longer she sat here and recalled it. She kept picturing his naked body in that bed in the morning. What would she say if he looked up right now and she was there remembering the contours of his body?

Hi, I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.

She’d save that gem for later.

Probably never.

Lily felt disappointed as he walked away without looking up, disappearing through a door that likely led to the back. Her heart slowed in her chest, just slightly, but she felt like her throat was drier than the desert. She cleared it twice, earning a look from the guy in the sweater-vest, but he just went back to his task at hand.

Since the other two men at the Genius Bar were preoccupied, she took that to mean she was going to have to wait for help. She checked her Tumblr, finding nothing of consequence, just some idiots in her ask box telling her to eat dirt and choke on it. A usual occurrence on her blog thanks to internet trolls with nothing better to do than hate strong women like Taylor Swift and Captain Marvel. Lily was fully convinced people just liked to find something to complain about. She tried really hard not to complain or take anything a bunch of internet ghosts said to heart. She scrolled through her favorite Taylor Swift blog and saw there had been a new song mashup released. She wished she had brought her headphones so she could at least listen to the music while she waited.

London Boy crossed with This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things would be absolutely disastrous and she was here for it. She reblogged it for later, then exited out of the app, settling for people watching instead.

Around her, couples were looking over new computers, AirPods, and various other electronics. All the girls wore really pretty dresses, and all the partners kept one firm arm around each other's waists. Lily’s dress was pretty too, and she played with the edges of the corset cut as she stared at the door through which the fit bloke had disappeared.

Had he spotted her and run? Did he remember her? Did he forget her? She wasn’t sure what would hurt her more, if he walked away because he saw her and remembered her, or if he walked away because he forgot about her.

Lily wasn’t a bragger, but she knew for a fact he had fun with her a year ago. She remembered enough of that night to know that he’d been really, really enjoying it. Not many men would get between her legs for her, and very few actually made her scream. No, he’d been one of two, and he’d been the best of all.

Lily crossed her legs, trying to ignore the heat gathering on her face (and in other places) as she recounted that night. Sadly, her body wasn’t listening to her imploring thoughts. She felt like a damn animal in heat, the way her entire body was strung up, waiting for his reappearance.

Beside her, the emo guy helping the old Lady change her voicemail sent her a sidelong glance randomly, and Lily felt a blush raise on her cheeks when his eyes grazed up and down her body as if he were checking her out. She didn’t drop his gaze, and instead offered him a smile. His gray eyes snapped back to the old lady and spoke to her in a smooth tone that didn’t seem the least bit flustered.

She looked down at her candy-colored nails, the pink already chipping from scrubbing her hands too much at work. The phone on the table in front of her buzzed with a text from her girls' chat. Marlene sent a photo of a plate of tacos in the shape of a heart. Lily smiled and opened her phone, hearting the photo. As she did so, the grandmother finished her session and walked away, leaving the emo kid free. Lily looked up from her phone quickly, expecting him to turn to her, but instead, he had his back turned to her as he talked into his headset.

“No, I won’t stall for you—Prongs! Don’t argue with me.” He sounded stressed, as if whoever was on the other end was ruining his life. “Then get out here, you idiot.”

Whoever was on the other end was clearly addressing the whole store through that headset, as Lily witnessed the sweater vest-wearing, scrawny boy, and the long-haired brunette nearby all turning to send looks in Emo’s direction with raised brows. Lily couldn’t help but feel as if they were all looking at her too, despite her not being privy to the conversation happening.

“Hi,” someone touched Lily’s shoulder from behind, making her turn in surprise.

A baby-faced woman with bubblegum-pink hair smiled kindly. “Have you been checked in?”

“Oh,” Lily blinked owlishly, feeling stupid for thinking everyone was looking at her. “Uhm, yes, Lily Evans? Screen repair?”

“Our screen repair guy is stuck on the phone with a customer in the back,” she said cheerily, “but he should be out soon.”

“Oh, there’s a guy?” Lily said in surprise. “I thought screen replacements were kinda a universal genius bar thing.”

“Oh, we can all do it,” The girl’s name tag told Lily her name was Tonks, “but someone called dibs already.”

“Dibs?” Lily didn’t miss that Emo kid was cackling as he typed something into his iPad.

“Did I say dibs?” Tonks put a finger on her lips. “I meant he was assigned to you by the boss.”

“Who’s the boss?”

“He is.”

Suddenly, the door behind them slammed open, and a body stumbled out quite dramatically. Lily perked up at the sight of the familiar form. Sporty boy was back! His black hair was even more wild around his head, as if he’d been running his fingers through it non-stop since he’d disappeared. His glasses were skewed too, but it only made him so much more attractive, to see how flustered he was.

Tonks peered around Lily’s shoulder, her pink hair falling into her eyes. “Smooth entrance, Potter.”

“Thanks for holding down the fort, Nymphadora,” Potter said. “I can take her from here.”

Lily’s eyes traced his tall form, realizing it had been a long time since she’d been able to admire it. When her gaze returned to his face, her eyes met brown orbs that looked delighted to know she’d been openly checking him out. Lily’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She brushed nervously at her red curls, biting her lip as James waltzed over to her at the bar, leaning against it so he was only a foot or so away from her.

“Hi,” his voice was smooth, like an ASMR streamer. “I’m James Potter.”

“Hi,” she almost choked on her own spit. “Hi.”

James’ fingers trailed along the edge of the bar, casual yet deliberate, as he said, “I heard you rang for a genius?”

Lily’s mouth quivered when she heard Tonks sigh loudly. The emo guy slammed his palm against his head, as if James had embarrassed them all. Sweater vest physically gagged. James just kept smiling at her though, as if he could tell she was attracted to him regardless of his cheesy pickup lines. And it was true, she was.

“I heard you are the only one in this store who can help me,” Lily flirted, watching his eyes light up at the challenge. “I had no idea you were so important.”

“Me either, to be honest.” He placed his chin on his hand, supported by his elbow against the bar. “What was your name again?”

Lily tucked her hair behind her ear. “Lily Evans? We met about a year ago at a party.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle as he replied smoothly, “Oh, I remember how we met, it was just your name that escaped me last year.”

The blush was uncontrollable now as she reached out a hand for him to shake. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You have no idea how nice it is to see you again.” James’ grin grew wider. “And on Valentine's Day, no less.”

"I know how to make an entrance." She managed weakly.

James' eyes were molten gold mixed with green flecks, "you sure do, especially in that dress."

“Get a room,” the guy in the sweater vest muttered.

“How about yours, Remus?” James shot back, a bite in his tone.

Remus pretended to be interested in his customer's macbook in response. When Lily looked back at James, she felt a punch to the gut as she saw nothing but pure lust in his eyes. She could practically pinpoint where his mind had dropped, thanks to his eyes staring at her breasts, which were practically popping out of the corset cut top of her dress.

“Like what you see?” She asked boldly.

"Yes." He cleared his throat, and her eyes dropped to his mouth when he licked his lip and then curled the edges up to smile confidently.

Hazel eyes.

His eyes were hazel, and she’d forgotten that, so now all her memories were being replayed with coy hazel eyes that undressed her without even trying. He wasn't even trying to hide it, especially not right now.

“Well, what can I help you with today?” James asked, breaking her concentration on his eyes.

Dinner. She thought desperately. A quick go in the back of the storage room. Instead she offered, “I think I cracked my phone screen.”

James looked down at the phone in question. Lily picked it up, popping off the blue protective case in one fluid motion, before handing it to him. She fiddled with the case as he turned the phone over in his hands once.

“And you’re sure it’s not just the screen protector?”

Lily shook her head no, “I tried to pull it off, twice, but couldn't get it, so I’m pretty sure I forgot to put the protection screen thing on when I got my new case.”

“Oh Lily,” James clucked his tongue, “always use protection.”

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say.

Her brain immediately fluttered into the pit of her stomach with ideas of all the things they could do with protection. God, she hadn’t been so turned on since the last time he’d gotten her into bed with him…only this time it was daylight and she hadn’t had a single thing to drink.

Pure thoughts, Lily Evans. She thought. He’s just a guy. A hot, cool, incredibly charming guy. Fuck it, I’m screwed.

James casually picked at her phone screen, seemingly ignoring the desire flickering in her eyes as he remarked, “The glass shouldn’t stick up like that; I think it’s just a screen protector.”

“I really don’t think–”

Watching in mortification, Lily winced as he used his thumbnail to pry at the glass. Suddenly, a sound of unsticking reached her ears as he removed a screen case from her phone's actual glass. Redness flooded her face for an entirely different reason. She’d been a total, utter, helpless idiot for bringing her phone here.

It hadn’t been broken at all.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, “Oh, no, no, no, no!! I am such an idiot.”

“No!” He quickly reassured her, “You’re not an idiot!”

Lily felt herself spiraling with embarrassment, realizing she just hadn’t pulled hard enough to separate the sticky tape from the glass. “I swear—I tried so hard—I thought it was the screen.”

His thumb brushed the side of her wrist in comfort, but instead of soothing her, it sent a wave of shame coursing through her stomach. “It’s an honest mistake; it was securely fastened.”

“Yeah,” she squeaked, noticing he had leaned closer over the counter, now mere inches from her face.

“Seriously,” he seemed so amused, and that only humiliated her further, “it’s fine, I won't even charge you.”

She didn’t know if she’d ever felt more stupid, and in front of the hottest guy she knew, too. “I’m really sorry for wasting your time.” He searched her face as if seeking something within it. Lily withdrew her hand from his shyly and then grabbed her phone. “I’ll just go, thank you, um, bye.”

Trying to escape the awkward situation, she hurried out, acutely aware of the stares from those around them who had witnessed the embarrassing exchange. She slipped her unprotected phone under the strap of her dress and brushed her hair behind her ears as she rushed to her car in the parking lot.

“Dumb, stupid, idiot.” she muttered over and over to herself, repeating the whole scene in her head. “How did you graduate college with a science degree, but you can’t even pull a fucking phone condom off.”

She reached her car in record time, the lingering sense of humiliation mingling with a cocktail of other emotions churning in her gut. Her plan now was simple: she would rendezvous with her friends at the taco place and immerse herself in a flight of margaritas. Maybe if she got intoxicated enough, she could erase this entire fiasco from her memory. As she finished flinging her bag onto the console of the passenger seat, she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Turning abruptly, she was startled to find James from the Genius Bar standing there, a friendly smile gracing his features. “Hey, Lily.”

“Hi,” she managed, her voice high-pitched from her embarrassment.

HIs eyes dropped to the phone, precariously held between her pale skin and tiny spaghetti thick dress strap. “Why do girls stuff everything right there?”

Lily looked down at her phone and then back up to him, feigning tucking her hands into the folds of her dress skirt, “most girls clothes don’t have pockets–so we improvise.”

“Interesting.” He then asked promptly, “Did you know that I worked here?”

“No,” she swore, as the wind made her skirts gather around her legs, “I swear, I had no idea.”

A light flickered in his eyes, “that’s a shame.”

“Why a shame?”

“I was hoping you made up that entire thing about the glass cracking just to talk to me.” He grinned. “But you genuinely thought it was broken, didn’t you?”

“You were hoping I was lying?” Lily blinked owlishly at him, “really?”

He lifted a lunchbox in his hand, smiling awkwardly. “I only have an hour for lunch; why don’t we catch up, and we can talk about what I was hoping for.”

“What?” Lily asked, not comprehending anything because her hormones were cheering excitedly.

“Sorry,” he tucked the lunchbox behind his back again, “did you not want to eat with me? I think I may have gotten mixed signals from you back in the store…”

“Eat with you?” she repeated. “ With you?”

“I know it’s been a while,” he was rambling, “I know we aren’t even like–friends–but you showed up and I–I nearly had a heart attack seeing you again. A heart attack in the good way–not a bad way. You are definitely good. All good. So good.”

Lily still had one hand on her car door, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to find the words. “I–I’m an idiot who can’t tell the difference between a screen cover and a phone screen…and you want to have lunch with me?”

James shrugged, “despite working at the genius bar–” Lily offered him a snort of amusement, “--I prefer idiots, don’t you?”

“You're not an idiot,” Lily said, motioning to all of him, “you’re–you’re that .”

“Eloquent,” his smile was so wide, his eyes crinkled at the edges. “But I’m 100% just as much an idiot as you.”

“How so?”

“I was an idiot for ever letting you go without a number to text you at.”

She felt her stomach erupt with pleasant butterflies. “What?”

James looked down at her body, then back up at her eyes with a coy wink. “Truthfully, I've been wondering where you disappeared to for a year now and would really like to catch up. I’d also really love your number, for your working phone, just in case you ever need a genius to fix it again. Is that okay?”

Lily felt like she might be dreaming. She pinched her arm. It hurt. Thank god. “This isn’t a joke, right?”

“No,” James walked forward, almost flush with her person now. “I do love a good joke, though.”

“Really?” He was so close, she could count the tiny freckles dotting his tan nose.

James' hand brushed her arm, sending shivers racing up it. “What’s the best book to read while eating breakfast?”

Lily felt a smile replacing her confused expression as she leaned up on her tiptoes, allowing his free hand to cup her chin. “What book?”

“Much Ado About Muffin.”

"You're right, you are an idiot." She rolled her eyes, but her tone was flirtatious, "a really, really cute idiot."

"They'll hire just about anyone to work the Genius Bar these days."

Lily didn’t wait anymore; she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down, letting her lips muffle his laughter.

She could still feel his smile through the kiss though, even when he opened his mouth to taste her with an eager fever she had forgotten about. She kissed him back harder, especially when she heard his lunch bag fall to the ground near their feet, and both his hands grabbed hold of her long hair to keep her firmly attached. He tasted like mint gum, like he'd just been chewing it before coming to find her. Like he'd planned for this exact scenario to happen.

She almost swooned at the thought.

Finally, what felt like only a second later, he broke off the kiss. When her eyes opened, she saw nothing but him, and that only made her smile grow wider. His hands remained in her hair, but he tugged them forward to cup her cheeks, bringing the red strands with him.

“So,” he said somewhat breathlessly, “lunch date?”

"What'd you have in mind?"

"Calling out of work, taking you home, and ordering pizza for a long movie we won't watch."

Lily stepped forward, about to kiss him again for suggesting it, but then she felt her chunky heel step on something, and a resounding crack filled the air. Lily thought it might be the lunch bag he’d dropped, and for just a second she hoped, but whatever was under her foot was smaller. She looked down, face white, and all she saw were broken bits of glass under her heel. Her heart plummeted from its high as she stared down at her broken phone.

“I broke my phone,” she realized, lifting her foot to show a screen in tiny bits and pieces. “Oh my god, I really broke it this time.”

James untangled himself from her and leaned down, picking it up carefully, and they watched as it disintegrated into multiple pieces in his hand. His eyes lifted from the phone to her. She stared back at him. Lily fell against her car, pressing her hands into her hair as she processed her disbelief. James' mouth was partially open, like she'd just stunned him to silence.

“I can’t believe this!” she half laugh, half cried, while wiping her eyes. "I can't fucking believe this!"

Then, James doubled over with laughter, weeping from the irony of it all. Lily crossed one leg over the other as she laughed too, her head rolling back against her car. Passerby in the parking lot shared attempts like they were lunatics for laughing so hard. It only made them laugh harder.

"What am I going to do?" Lily cried, her side in stitches. "Oh god, I haven't even paid that phone off yet!"

"I can't believe you broke it!" James wiped the tears from his eyes, "oh my god, your luck!"

"Oh fuck," Lily pressed a hand to her forehead, "I don't know why I'm laughing, this is actually so bad, I need my phone for work."

James walked forward to plant a firm kiss on her mouth before reminding her, “Don’t worry, you know a genius who can fix it.”

~~~

+44 7123 456789: Lily??? Are you Alive??? Your bedroom doors been shut since yesterday?? have you even been home???

Lily Evans: holy shit I am so sorry, who is this? I have a new phone and forgot to switch my contacts over from the cloud

+44 7123 456789: ....Marlene....HOW BROKEN WAS YOUR PHONE??? It was a scratch the last time I saw it??

Lily Evans: funny story...

Marlene McKitten: where are you?!

Lily Evans: do you remember that one time I got super drunk at a party and woke up in a hot guys bed?

Marlene McKitten: ya...why?

Lily Evans: I'm currently in his bed right now

Marlene McKitten: ??? get home right now or so help me god I'm tracking your phone and coming to you

Lily Evans: save yourself a drive and meet us at the Genius Bar, he's taking me over there to fix my old computer I thought was broken.

Marlene McKitten: ?????????????

#jily #lily evans #james potter #jily fanfiction #jily fic #sleepover saturday #JPLE

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spaceprincessem · 1 year

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like when the sun came out | 39k buddie fic | ao3

[or the buck sees ghosts au]

He turns the water up too hot in the shower, but lets the pain ease that aching inside of him. He feels unexplainably cold and the steam helps chase away the chill that seems to permeate the entirety of the loft. He doesn’t waste time and quickly towels off so he can throw on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie because it’s only grown colder even in the tiny space of his bathroom. He thinks about checking the thermostat just as a pounding headache, sudden and sickening, hits him. He fumbles to open up the bathroom cabinet and grabs the nearest bottle of medication. He forces at least three pills into his throat before bending down to gulp a mouthful of sink water. His mouth rings with a sharp, metallic taste that wasn’t there before and as he closes the mirror he nearly jumps out of his skin. Standing just behind him in the reflection of the mirror is the Crooked Smiled Man. He turns, movements uncoordinated and a bit jerky, and knocks anything sitting on the counter to the floor. There’s no one there, but Buck knows. He knows. As soon as he looks back at the mirror he will be standing there, smiling smiling smiling like he always is. He bolts from the bathroom, tripping over a pile of dirt clothes to get to his phone. The record has stopped playing and the loft is only filled with the sound of it endlessly spinning and the pound of Buck’s own heart. He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. The phone rings and rings and rings.

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tagging everyone who was interested @eddiebabygirldiaz @rogerzsteven @monsterrae1 @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @renecdote @leothil @shortsighted-owl @colonoscopys @hoodie-buck @buddierights @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @steadfastsaturnsrings @lillathelegend @disasterbuckdiaz @idealuk @blackberry-l @thewolvesof1998 @sleepybeeonarose @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @devirnis @blue-cypress @slowlyfoggydestiny @thekristen999 @littlechaosgremlin @tulipfromtheinternet @thebestbooksaround @obsessedmaggiemay @elvensorceress @ebdaydreamer @skylightowls @asmuchasidliketo

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #just in time for spooky season #also if it's bad and u hate it just don't tell me ❤️

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prozd · 9 months

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my favorite things this year

Best Games I Played in 2023

1. Pokemon Scarlet

2. Luck Be a Landlord

3. Great Ace Attorney Chronicles

4. Meow Tower

5. Until Dawn

6. Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Red Rescue Team

7. Fire Emblem

8. Yakuza 3

9. Dragon Quest V

10. Final Fantasy III

also good: Aggretsuko Match 3, Dragon Quest II

Best Shows I Watched in 2023

1. Bocchi the Rock

2. Physical 100

3. The Devil's Plan

4. The Last of Us

5. Love Live Superstar

also good: One Piece (live-action)

Best Movies I Watched in 2023

1. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

2. Blackberry

3. John Wick: Chapter 4

4. RRR

5. Ride Your Wave

6. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem

7. The Shape of Water

8. Nimona

9. Promare

10. Heart and Yummie

also good: Conan O'Brien Can't Stop, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, The Lighthouse, Booksmart, Barbie, Miss Hokusai

Best Board Games I Played in 2023

1. Gloomhaven: Jaws of the Lion

2. Pandemic Legacy: Season 0

3. Welcome to the Moon

4. Two Rooms and a Boom

5. Kitchen Rush

6. My City

7. Pandemic Legacy: Season 2

8. Star Wars: The Deck-Building Game

9. Undaunted: North Africa

10. Dorfromantik: The Board Game

also good: Exit: The Game - The Gate Between Worlds, Anomia, Fabled Fruit, Monikers, Sky Team, Phantom Ink, Adrenaline, Honey Buzz, Godzilla: Tokyo Clash, Clever Cubed, Heat: Pedal to the Metal, Tales of the Arabian Nights, Poetry for Neanderthals, Legendary Encounters: The Matrix

#year in review

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ruvviks · 8 days

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// wip day.

i'm working on a new project that is (for once) not connected to any of my bigger original universes, so i thought i'd share some of the writing i have for it! taglist down below, feel free to take this opportunity to share your own wips (in a separate post of course) if you have any!! the first part is a sort of introduction to the story, from the perspective of main character marshall! the second part is a snippet from a scene much further into the story, to kind of paint a picture (for both you and myself lol) of what the setting and the tone of the story is gonna be like. it's a bit different writing than what you're used to from me so please take a moment to read the warnings first!! warnings >> blood, cult, death, implied cannibalism, gore, religion, violence

God won't speak to me.

He spoke to my sister when we were eleven, her howls echoing through the backyard of our childhood home as the venom of a wasp spread quickly through her veins.

He spoke to my mother the day we buried her oldest son, the hem of her alcohol-stained dress torn where it had caught on the thorns of a blackberry bush she had blankly passed through.

He spoke to my father the day he put the barrel of a .44 in his mouth, reenacting what he had classified a sin for all the wrong reasons, his trembling finger on the trigger strong enough to rip apart the last tendon holding our family together yet not to finish the job.

I was eighteen, when I was found on the river bank near Overture, Louisiana, the sharp end of a jagged knife plunged deep within my side and my bloodied hands clutching the cross necklace of my brother, my breathing akin to the ice cold shallow water grazing at my ankles as I stared up at the star-spotted sky with glazed over eyes, blue chapped lips shaped in the final hum of a prayer.

A black abyss stared back, a strained vacuum without comfort, leaving me with a plea unheard and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

And God did not answer.

'Gotta dig… Just gotta dig. Gotta get 'em out of there… Gotta take 'em home…'

The physical distance between Marshall and the grave did not muffle the continuous mumbling, the shaky voice of the young priest clear as day like a whisper directly in his ear as the eerie silence looming over the church's cemetery left him with not much else to focus on. He knew he should turn around and leave, at that hour of the night— get back in his car and return to Posey in the motel, get some sleep while he still could— yet curiosity held him tight within its grasp, and each step he took pushed him closer into the wrong direction.

'Just the bones… Just the bones…'

The man was hunched over, back turned towards Marshall and partially obscured by the few last rows of gravestones stood between the two of them. His neck twitched— a sudden and unexpected movement at an angle Marshall did not hold for possible, yet it had happened entirely too fast for him to clearly see.

'Hey, is everything alright?' he called out; well against his better judgment, hairs on his forearms standing up straight as his feet carried him another few inches closer to the priest.

And the closer he got, the more he wished he had listened to himself.

If he had just turned away, he wouldn't have had to notice the unusual and unplaceable noises bubbling up from the priest's direction. He wouldn't have had to realize the priest was sat next to a coffin, yet to be lowered into an undug grave. (A curious practice, but Marshall was not one to judge— Overture'd had to endure a rather tiresome series of curiosities as of late, and an unburied corpse in the middle of bumfuck Louisiana in the midst of a yet to be explained power cut would be the least of its problems.)

'Just the bones…. Gotta dig… Gotta bring 'em home.'

'Do you need help?' Marshall persistently asked, his voice muffled by the thrumming of his own heart in his eardrums while his eyes trailed over the coffin— splintered and shattered at the lid, the glimmer of the distant church lights barely enough to reveal the outline of an axe resting on the dirt at the priest's ankles.

'Have to do it, there's no other way. Gotta dig, gotta dig, gotta dig—'

'Hey!'

Marshall should have never stayed in town.

He realized that now, as the priest's obsessive muttering came to a sudden stop forcing Marshall to hold still too— yet he had already approached too closely, and realized that no dirt had been dug in at all, and realized that the priest's hands were instead stuck inside the coffin repeatedly plunging deeper and deeper into the rotting remains of the corpse inside, once white vestment covered in blood and gore and he stared up at Marshall with a faint glow in two milky white eyes and with a wide grin exposing bloodied and shattered teeth, much akin to a predator looking at its next prey.

'Just the bones,' he repeated, the nodding of his head nearly belittling— as if to convince Marshall this was how it was supposed to be, as if to convince him the Word of God was not to be neglected and his fate as a sinner was a gift to the Divine Light and as if to convince him as long as he would not struggle it would all be over soon.

'Gotta dig.'

Marshall could not move, lamb to the slaughter as the priest rose to his feet with the axe in his hand.

'Just the bones! Gotta take 'em home.'

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel

#tag games #nuclearwriting #PLEASE IGNORE IF THIS IS NOT YOUR THANG!! IT'S FINE!!! i just reaaaalllyyyyy wanted to share this because it's like #the first bit of actual writing i've managed to get done in a VERY long time ;_; and i'm pretty proud of it #if you DO read it. i hope you like it :] <3 if you recognize the tew2 inspiration in it i am giving you a kiss on the forehead #anyway yes so this is an actual separate story to any other kind of worldbuilding you've seen on my blog so far #i love connecting stuff together to create huge overarching universes but this is just a standalone thing :]#marshall is the main character he's a trans man who's managed to run away from overture after the above mentioned stabbing incident #and he has to return MANY years later for a funeral. and then after an unexpected!!!! eclipse cuts the power in a large area #he and his sister posey end up stuck in town. and then!!!! strange things start happening. like what the priest is doing. =D uh oh!

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pineapple-cheese-bread · 19 days

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Today we finally, FINALLY! have Jackal, a pure Sandwing, third in my assassin trio, sister to Solar and Girlfriend to Blackberry.

Jackals the one who started the whole assassin trio.

She focuses on using her tail teeth and claws, she's got a metal barb on the end of her tail to extend her reach just a bit.

#wings of fire #wof #art #digital art #my art #wings of fire sandwing #sandwing

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maithefluffychicken · 1 year

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Hazelnuts and blackberries, chocolate and lavender

Part 1 / Part 2

Omegaverse Steddie fanfiction, alpha Eddie Munson, omega Steve Harrington, strangers to friends to lovers, alpha beta omega dynamics.

Starcourt.

Small business owners complain about that hellish building that's going murder Hawkins' commercial economy. Or whatever.

Surely, it was going to murder Eddie's sanity, that's a fact. Since the mall opened its doors, the poor alpha’s life hasn’t been the same.

First, that awful morning when Eddie skipped his math class to buy a tape. Not just any tape but the ‘Marching Out’ by Yngwie Fucking Malmsteem, a tape that just released and it was already considered a worthwhile listen album. Eddie was ecstatic, a spring in his step, thinking about listening to his new tape for hours on end, just to find out that the little, cluttered tapes and vinyl store he loved - and where he used to spend a big part of his money - was closed.

Closed!

Eddie glared, gaping like a fish, at the closed door and blinded windows and the big cardboard placard with the word ‘closed’ in big, red letters. By its side, a note that said that the customers could still find whatever music they were looking for in the bigger and better record store at Starcourt Mall.

Since there were no other stupid stores to buy the tape - gas stations never had the new things - Eddie had to go to Starcourt.

Second, the stupid music store with a stupid cool name - Divinyl Madness Records - needed a stupid someone to hire as clerk.

Eddie was that stupid someone, it seemed. The owner of the store was nice, an older and intimidating alpha that sported a trimmed beard and a mane longer than Eddie’s; he saw the boy’s looks and his always present battle denim vest and, with a wolfish grin, as if he had found an equal, asked him a few things while Eddie was trying to buy the fucking tape! What kind of music he listened to (metal, mostly), if he played some instrument (guitar, d-uh!), if he minded talking with people (people usually minded to talk with him if he were being honest), and if he was interested to become part of Divinyl Records, as a clerk.

Eddie could save some money, help at home, and hopefully, Chief Hopper wouldn’t be such a present figure in his life if he worked there. That would be nice. He could always keep his other job - selling a few joints from time to time - but maybe he could start a new life. One that could let him out of here.

That day, Eddie came home with ‘Marching Out’ blasting from his van’s windows down and a new job.

Ok, all in all that had been a nice day after all. Sure, Eddie would miss the old store and his chaotic shelves and disarrayed style, and the owner's long stares at him, the beta glaring at Eddie for taking too much time deciding what to buy while waiting for new album releases. But at home that night, when he told his uncle Wayne about his new job, the man rewarded him with a proud glint in his eye and a pat on his shoulder, reassuring him that he didn't need to worry about their economics, that Eddie better save his money for his future, and made him promise to not go around skipping his classes again.

Third, and worse thing about Starcourt and working there, though, was Steve the King of the Jerks Harrington.

And if his persona wasn't bad enough, the real nightmare was the tight, small ridiculous sailor uniform he had to wear because the fallen ruler of Hawkin’s High worked in the silly ice cream parlor called Scoops Ahoy!

Divinyl Madness was situated right in front from Scoops Ahoy, Eddie had a perfect view of the former king's highlighted blonde mane ruined by the silly hat, his toned arms flexing every time he scooped ice cream. That alone could drive any alpha insane.

But his shorts. Oh boy.

The blue fabric clinged to his round ass perfectly, and left muscular, slightly hairy thighs on sight. And those long white socks that covered his calves.

Eddie maybe hated the guy, but fuck, he was hot. Really hot. Stupidly hot, ridiculously even, always has been, and the alpha hated the way his eyes lingered on the jock whenever he was nearby.

Eddie knew, because he had heard it at high school, that one of the reasons for Harrington's disgrace was the fact that he presented late and as omega. Captain of the swimming team, basketball star, and a bully jock turned into nothing just because of his secondary gender. Eddie couldn’t easily forgive the way Steve Harrington treated his people, the nerds, the outcasts and the misfits, but he never understood that hate towards male omegas or female alphas, as if they were less than nothing. Stupid old-fashioned social conventions.

Anyway. The real and only reason Eddie hated to work at the record store is that Steve Harrington was always there, too, in that small outfit, being hot.

Hot enough to distract Eddie from time to time, who started to stare at him when he wasn't busy and no clients were at the store.

Hot enough to start invading Eddie's dreams at night, and fuck it all, even his fantasies when he was wide awake at night and restless because Steve was a wet dream made flesh and bone and Eddie was just a guy. Just give him a rest. What if he had to knot his own fist, what else could he do about it?

Eddie was just a guy who ate a lot of ice cream that summer.

“Ahoy Ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, I’m Steve Harrington,” Steve’s cheerful and flirty greeting to every cute girl while he winked and used his sultriest voice was fucking unnerving to Eddie. Maybe an old habit from when he was expecting to present as an alpha.

Maybe Steve preferred other omegas, just because they were girls? Eddie frowns upon this and he feels suddenly sick. Every fucking time he comes for a stupid ice cream during his break the same thing, the same stupid line falling from these pink, flush lips and Eddie feels…

He fucking wants to growl and snarl at these other poor omegas girls that are unaware of his inner turmoil. He’s going insane, and he has been working at Divinyl Record for only three weeks.

The girls have their ice creams, ignoring the omega in his slutty sailor disguise but they all scrunch their noses when walking past Eddie, glaring at him and flushing themselves together, the way the omegas do to protect themselves against an alpha. Eddie, even enraptured by Steve, notices it and looks at them in confusion, until- fuck. His scent. Sour with jealousy and spicier with his own arousal, it’s a very distinctive and very alpha smell, no doubt the poor girls had felt the need to close their pack to protect themselves, leaving the establishment in a rush.

Fucking great, as if Eddie hadn’t enough in his plate already, now he smells like a predator. And it’s not like he can turn and say ‘hey babes, don’t you fret, you surely are all lovely and very enticing omegas, but I’m afraid my mind is set in this pretty sailor over here, I won’t represent any danger to any of you, and now I bid you farewell.’ Ha!

“Ahoy Lad-, oh Eddie, hi!” Steve greets him, a wide smile in those pink lips and Eddie can’t help but to think, it’s not fair. Why the fuck does Steve to smile at him like that, as if he’s happy to see him today, as if he’s happy to have Eddie coming for an ice cream every day since Eddie started working in the mall, right in front of Scoops Ahoy.

“What, no offer for me to sail this ocean of flavor, hm?” Eddie teases, he can’t help himself. “ You don’t want to be my captain, Harrington?”

Steve’s cheeks turn red and that’s such a good look on him. Eddie’s hindbrain yells mine and he has to shake his head, reminding himself he hates this guy and always will. People don’t change, Steve Harrington doesn't change, he’s still the same jerk, even if his scent is sweeter now and his hair is a bit longer, with blonde highlights…

“Pft, captain? Not even Private First Class, our dear Steve,” a chirpy voice says from the backstore, the blonde girl who works with Steve appearing and resting her arm on Steve’s shoulder, grinning wide while Steve frowns at her. “But he’s working hard. How are you, Eddie?”

“Hey, Robin,” Eddie smiles tensely at her, he doesn’t enjoy the way she treats the omega. From the record store, though, Eddie has seen that it’s just how their friendship is. He knows, he knows they’re friends, and Eddie is no one for them, for Steve. “Slow day at the store, I’m here for my daily dose of sugar.”

They’re not friends, Eddie has to remind himself, when Steve offers him a blinding smile, droopy eyes locking with his own when he asks if he wants a sample of their new flavor.

Fuck.

The thing is, and this is when Eddie realizes for real that he’s completely fucked - about this whole affair who involves Steve Harrington and his inner, loud alpha- the thing is, that Steve’s scent smells like hazelnuts and lavender. And since Eddie started working at the store and spending his money on ice cream, he has been asking for flavors that remind him of Steve’s scent. Almond and maple syrup, chocolate and peanuts - his favorite, since Eddie’s own scent is dark chocolate and blackberries, and -

He hasn’t noticed until now, until this exact moment when he shrugs and Steve offers him a disposable spoon with the new ice cream flavor: caramel and hazelnuts.

Eddie opens his mouth, inhaling the cold scent of the sample when Steve raises his hand, offering the spoon to him; the omega chuckles but shoves the spoon in Eddie’s mouth carefully. The omega’s own scent, warmer and even sweeter, the hint of lavender fills Eddie’s nostrils and makes his mouth water.

Fuck.

“It's good, right?” Steve asks him, eyes wide. Maybe ice cream is the ex-jock whole life, now. “Do you like it?”

Eddie nods, awestruck, forgetting where he is, wrapping his fingers around Steve’s wrist, gently. Steve flares his nostrils, inhaling deep too, and blushing right in front of Eddie’s eyes, who feels his blood boiling in his veins. The omega holds his gaze, his almond eyes bright and wide open, lips parted to taste whatever he’s smelling-

Robin clears her voice, “Steve, I think Eddie wants his ice cream so he can go back to work, and we have more clients waiting.”

The alpha almost snaps at her, turning his head to snarl, but her soft eyes and knowing smile are enough to keep his mouth closed. What the fuck is happening to him today?

“Yes, yeah, sure. What flavor do you want today, Eddie?”

Eddie comes back to the record store with two scoops in his cone, his usual chocolate and peanuts - the closest to hazelnuts until now - and… well, hazelnuts and caramel.

“Hey, pup, what’s wrong with you?” Joe, the alpha who owns the store looks at him and wrinkles his nose. “You smell like you fell into a chocolate fountain, like burnt sugar, you feeling ok, Munson?"

"I… I'm fine," Eddie lies, and the hours don't run fast enough.

When he reaches home, his uncle Wayne winces.

"Uf, son, your rut is early," he says, greeting him.

"Hng," Eddie agrees, flopping onto the couch, face first.

"Something triggered it?" His uncle asks, not unkindly, shuffling in their small kitchenette.

"What do you mean, Wayne?" He bristles, almost snarls, but his uncle simply laughs and puts a glass of water on the table for him.

"Do ya really want to go through the bees and the birds talk again, son?" Wayne asks, teases him, and Eddie grunts, hides his face against the plush, worn cushions that smell like him and his uncle. Their little pack. "Ya know what I mean, some pretty omega caught yer eyes?"

"Uncle Wayne," Eddie groans. Then, the younger alpha thinks about droopy, hazel eyes, about pink lips stretched in an open smile, and the smell of sweet hazelnuts. "Maybe."

His rut lasts three whole days, he spends them in his room, thrashing and growling and having half a mind to not destroy everything he has, his guitars, his amps, his books.

On the fourth day and feeling like shit, Eddie comes back to high school, to his band practice, and to Divinyl Records. At least his brain is not full of cotton anymore, even if his hindbrain is still louder in his mind.

Eddie apologizes to Joe for calling in sick for three whole days.

"It's ok, pup," the alpha pats his shoulder with such force that makes Eddie stumble. "It gets easier when you're older."

"Really?"

"Nah, not really," Joe laughs, putting a box full of records on Eddie's trembling arms and he picks another box, and points Eddie with his chin to follow him. "Just an omega, a good mate, it's the only thing that will make your ruts less miserable, pup. Find someone who sees that you’re so much more than a knothead and never let go."

Eddie snorts at these words, but during his shift, he can’t stop thinking about it. Fuck, he knows he’s far too young to think about finding a mate, and yet, something weird tugs at his gut when he glances sideways and sees Steve across the corridor, in his blue uniform and smiling to a kid. There’s this pup again, his curls under a cap, Eddie has seen him with Steve other times, they greet each other with a silly handshake that makes Eddie smile despite his best effort to keep his frown.

His hindbrain whines and Eddie reminds it, sulking, that they’re not friends, they’re no less than hereditary enemies. There’s no place in Steve’s life for someone like Eddie.

Eddie is focusing, organizing and reshelving some tapes behind the counter when a soft cough calls his attention and makes him turn around.

“Good ev- Harrington?”

Steve is in front of him, holding two cones in front of him, his blond hair is falling over his eyes but there’s no little white hat, and he’s smiling. Wide and beautiful. At Eddie.

“Hi, Eddie,” Steve greets him, his smile shy and tentative.

“What can I do for you, Captain Harrington?” Eddie teases, his eyes jumping from the ice creams to Steve’s eyes.

“You didn’t come for your ice cream today nor the last days, and I thought…” Steve blushes, his eyes leave Eddie’s. “I thought I could bring it to you, maybe we can have our breaks together?”

Eddie gapes like a fish, opening his mouth with nothing to say, and then closing it again. He manages to mumble something about letting his boss know and Steve’s smile widens.

Lavender and hazelnuts fill his nostrils suddenly when Steve’s scent peaks with joy, and Eddie feels far too weak after his rut, his mind wheeling before the alpha can look for his boss at the backstore.

When the older alpha appears, trailing behind Eddie, he looks at Steve and then at his employee, arching a brow. He doesn’t say a thing, but Eddie feels like Joe knows exactly who was the one triggering the rut that forced Eddie to miss three days of work.

Eddie clears his throat and takes the cone Steve is offering, leading him out the store to find some place where they can sit and eat their ice cream.

“It’s the hazelnut and caramel from last time,” Steve informs him, blushing. But if you'd rather have some other flavor…”

“Nope!” Eddie interrupts him, blushing fiercely but unable to stop his mouth. “I loved this one, honestly, my favorite one so far. Thank you.”

Too much information, too much honesty, but Steve gives him that sweet, flustered smile, and it’s worth it. Eddie stares at Steve licking his own scoop, the one Eddie used to order, chocolate and peanuts.

Eddie doesn’t want to hope.

Things change after that evening.

They start looking for each other to share their break time together. Sometimes, if Scoops Ahoy is empty, Robin lets Eddie spend his break with them, perched at the table in their backstore, the three of them eating ice cream. Eddie can’t help but to laugh at the weird friendship antics the young beta and Steve have developed.

Robin used to hate Steve Harrington The King, she confesses to Eddie one lazy evening, the summer is coming to an end and Scoops Ahoy has lesser clients, now. Steve is dealing with a pup that sounds terrifying, no doubt she’ll present as an alpha someday, and she’s demanding free samples for her and her pack of friends.

“And now you’re friends,” Eddie says.

“And now we’re best friends, Eddie,” she corrects. “He’s not like he used to be, I wonder if he ever was like that or if he was, you know, pretending, for survival.”

Robin looks at Eddie, expectant, as if she’s waiting for Eddie to understand some hidden meaning in her words.

“I don’t hate Steve,” Eddie feels the urge to say, and it feels weird to admit it out loud.

“I know,” Robin smirks, making Eddie frown at her. “You reek of sweet blackberries all the time when you’re here, Eddie, I know you don’t hate him.”

“I-... Well, we agree then, we don’t hate Steve Harrington anymore, isn’t that a sign for the Apocalypse that’s to come upon us?” Eddie decides to joke about it, not wanting to acknowledge his burning cheeks or how his belly churns at the mention of his scent when he’s around Steve. And definitely he doesn’t want to listen to his hindbrain and its constant longing for the omega.

“For the Apocalypse, then,” Robin raises her cone - strawberry - and Eddie does the same with his own, chocolate and peanuts and hazelnuts with caramel.

“For the Apocalypse.”

“Scoops Ahoy is going to close its doors, at least until next summer,” Steve informs Eddie.

“What?” Eddie asks, fear rising inside him.

Scoops Ahoy is what had transformed their relationship, from hate to an irresponsible crush (at least for the alpha) to a friendship that leaves Eddie breathless, filling him with longing and a burning desire inside and stupid thoughts about a kind of life Eddie had never wanted to think about before. But Steve is his friend now, Steve wants to spend time with him, even outside their working hours, just like they're doing now.

It’s Sunday and they’re both over the roof of Eddie’s van, watching the sun set, parked on the quarry. It’s quiet and still warm, even if they both have their hoodies ready, it’ll be cold at night.

“And what are you and Robin going to do, now?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t want to lose any of them, now that he thinks about it. Eddie realizes he doesn’t want to lose everything he has found this summer.

Steve and Robin, and the whole strange pack that comes with them. Dustin, the curly hair pup that is a total nerd and Eddie has met and discussed DnD with him and his friends. Lucas, Will and that stubborn pup called Mike. Max and El, the young teens like peas in a pod. And Erica, the strong pup that is Lucas’ little sister and the most terrifying person Eddie has ever met, always surrounded by her own group of friends, always leading them.

Eddie feels strangely overprotective towards them all, even if he met them just recently. It’s all because of Steve, he knows and he can’t stop it now. He wants to protect everything that makes Steve happy, even his underpaid job.

“Oh, don’t worry, Scoops Ahoy closes but Spoons Ahoy opens instead!” Steve half laughs, maybe because he’s witnessing Eddie spiraling on his behalf, because Eddie is looking at him with wide, panicked eyes. Steve’s hand rests on Eddie’s face, soothing him immediately, letting Eddie nuzzle his palm and inhaling deeply from Steve’s wrist glands.

“What the fuck is Spoons Ahoy,” Eddie mumbles, losing himself in Steve’s touch and scent.

“A coffee shop, Eds, they’re keeping our jobs, just as baristas now.”

“Hm, ok,” Eddie mumbles, feeling like he’s laying in a field of lavender and eating sweet, roasted hazelnuts, his body going pliant and weightless when Steve pulls him to rest his head on him, over the omega’s clothed chest.

Eddie inhales deeply, ignoring the last rays of sun to better nuzzle the omega’s preppy white and red polo, his arms wrapping around the omega’s thin waist. It’s good, so good, to just stay like this, knowing his omega is safe with him…

“Don’t wanna lose you,” Eddie whispers, not knowing he’s saying it out loud. His hindbrain swimming in a lavender field.

“You won’t, Eds, I promise,” Steve whispers back, his fingers playing with Eddie’s hair and lulling him to sleep.

It’s middle September when Spoons Ahoy opens its doors, Robin and Steve wearing matching sailor uniforms again, but long sleeves ones now. Eddie misses being able to see Steve’s pale skin covered in moles, even if the new, sinfully tight white slacks stretch deliciously against the omega’s round ass. The first time Eddie sees Steve’s uniform - at Steve’s house, because they’re friends who hang out almost daily, now -, the alpha wants to bite these clothes off until Steve is bare and underneath him, and Eddie has to force himself to laugh at the ridiculousness of the new uniform when Steve looks at him, expecting an answer to a question Eddie can only imagine by context.

He knows Steve can tell what is he thinking, the omega’s nostrils flaring everytime his scent peaks spicier and sweeter. Ripped blackberry and dark chocolate, as his own boss, Robin and his uncle Wayne had informed him, several times now. Even Gareth has told him about it, in a very Gareth way - that was basically shouting at him in the middle of a band rehearsal - to be an alpha and to start courting Steve already because, in Gareth words: ‘he’s sighing too much and it’s annoying’.

Everyone knows how he feels about Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins’ High School and actual princess of Eddie’s heart.

Steve is just too kind to ignore it in favor of their friendship.

Anyway, Spoons Ahoy it’s a blast and during the first days Eddie can’t share his break with Steve. He waits in line until he can reach the counter and it’s Robin who’s free for him to take his order; Eddie loves the funny beta girl, but he wanted to see Steve. His deception must be obvious.

“Hey, Steve, this one is yours, actually,” she grins and winks at Eddie before he can even say his hellos. Instead, he mouths her a silent thank you that makes Robin shake her head, smiling softly at him.

“Eds!” Steve greets him with his sweetest smile, his scent peaking sweeter, and it’s like summer again and lavender fields. “I’m sorry, I can’t take my break now…”

“Don’t worry, big boy, just wanted to, you know, say hello,” Eddie mumbles, and knows that Steve is looking at his smitten expression, he can’t even disguise it nowadays, he can’t pull a straight face in front of Steve, not for dear life.

Steve chuckles, making Eddie’s chest puff, his hindbrain whispering the sweetest things in his mind. Perfect omega, so sweet and caring, so beautiful, so strong, perfect mate for me, laughing at my words, wanting me back.

But a beautiful dream, though, to have Steve loving him back.

Wait, what?

“I’ve been trying something new. Want to forgo your usual coffee and take a risk, Munson?” Steve asks him, his cheeks deliciously blushed. He seems shy, hopeful even, as if Eddie had told him no at anything during the last months.

“Aye aye, Captain,” Eddie smirks, making Steve snort at his antics. Fuck.

Eddie can’t stay once Steve hands him two steamy disposable cups, one for Eddie and the other for Joe. He rushes to leave the counter, wishing Steve a nice shift and hoping they could spend more time together. When Eddie retreats to the backstore after offering his boss the second coffee, he takes time to admire Steve’s handwriting in his cup. There’s a little heart instead of a dot over the i on his name.

The alpha smiles at it. Holding the cup with both hands, he inhales the warm aroma, expecting… not knowing what, exactly, but he’s rewarded with strong cocoa and roasted hazelnuts. Their scents mixed sweetly in this cup. It’s like holding scorching hot hope in his hands.

Eddie whines, rushing to give it a sip, burning his tongue in the process but ignoring it because Steve had given him hope and a silly, little heart in his name.

It’s Halloween.

Steve says his parents aren’t at home, and invites Eddie, Robin and the pups for a movie night. All the pups have been discussing what movie they should watch first, it’s all sci-fi and horror and Eddie sees an amused Steve, hands on hips and wearing a worn, well loved yellow sweater, playing mom with the pups.

It’s a sight that makes Eddie’s hindbrain go feral, providing him images he doesn’t even want to think right now because, well, he’s surrounded by pups and there’s no doubt they all would know exactly what Eddie is thinking about the omega.

“We can start with Jaws and Alien next and… Wait, who brought The Exorcist? You’re all too young for this movie.”

“Come on Steve, we’re not pups anymore!”

“You won’t be able to sleep later!”

“We’ll nest with you and Eddie, we’ll be fine!”

Steve looks at Eddie at this, blushing fiercely, and Eddie just shrugs. Yes, I want to nest with you and protect these pups that you love as if they were yours and maybe someday we’ll have our own pups in our own nest and… Yeah, yes, Eddie has been thinking about this, sue him - again.

The pups are all tucked on an improvised bed in front of the couch, where Eddie and Steve are sitting together. Robin has claimed the reclining chair for herself, a thick blanket covering from chin to toe, and smiling smugly when she reclines it and gets comfortable.

The movie starts and Eddie startles when Steve gets closer to him, a plush, giant blanket in hands, and smiles at him coyly, a silent question in his shy eyes.

Eddie smiles at him, heart hammering wildly in his chest, laying sideways on the couch and opening his arms for Steve to make himself a place between them.

“I don’t really enjoy horror movies,” Steve confesses in a whisper, covering their bodies with the blanket. “I mean, I’m ok with Jaws, I love Steven Spielberg’s movies, but, Alien?”

Steve wiggles and gets comfortable, taking Eddie’s arms to wrap himself with them, and the alpha has to suppress a purr, but oh, he flushes their bodies together without thinking. Hazelnuts and lavender surround Eddie and it’s summer again.

“Technically, Alien is sci-fi, sweetheart,” Eddie nuzzles Steve’s soft hair. “But I’m here and I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Steve lets out a happy chirp and one of their pups - because now they all are their pups - shush at them.

“Would you scent me if I’m scared?” Steve turns his head to whisper at Eddie, their lips brushing slightly. Eddie wants to growl and claim those lips.

“Always,” Eddie whispers back, no, promises him so earnestly it hurts him physically.

Steve pecks him on the tip of his nose and turns his head to watch the movie, seemingly unaffected by Eddie’s inner turmoil, and daring to intertwine their fingers togethers.

Eddie feels like he’s floating, his purr starts in his chest and it’s low enough that the pups wouldn’t hear it, but Steve can feel the rumble of it, pressed as they are back to chest.

A moment after, Steve’s purr starts too, lulling Eddie to a sated, safe state where even his hindbrain gets quiet. It’s the best Halloween of Eddie’s life..

It’s a rare occasion, Eddie and Wayne have the day off and they decide to drive to the city, see what’s new.

They take a look at the thrift shop, where Eddie spots a brand new denim jacket, in great conditions and so cheap, perfect for a new battle vest. He also finds a couple of t-shirts and brings them all to the counter where Wayne is waiting for him, his own bounty in his hands.

Eddie drops the clothes on the counter and it's when he sees it. Behind the glass, resting over blue velvet, there's a silver chain attached to a silver blackberry.

“It’s beautiful, right?” The girl at the other side of the counter says.

“It’s perfect for a courting gift,” his uncle Wayne agrees, nudging him with his elbow.

Eddie blushes, but he keeps his mouth closed. For now.

“You don’t strike me as the romantic type, Wayne,” Eddie teases, biting a chip dipped in ketchup.

“What’s yer real question, pup, spit it,” Wayne snorts, devouring his burger. “It’s about that Harrington boy?”

Eddie grunts, hides his face and makes some more grumbling noises his uncle takes as an affirmation.

“H-how do I court an omega?” Eddie asks with a trembling voice, muffled by his hands.

Eddie has a plan.

It’s a good plan, it’s a fucking perfect plan and he’s sure that Steve is going to say yes, he’s.. ok, he’s 90% sure that Steve is going to accept his courting gift. They’ve been getting closer and closer, Eddie has been dying to ask, but between their jobs and classes…

It’s an old as fuck tradition, the courting ritual, and nobody does that anymore, but Eddie is an idiot and a romantic and Steve Harrington deserves to be wooed, to be courted. Eddie just hopes Steve says yes. That this is not some kind of joke.

Eddie has the silver blackberry pendant, the one from the thrift store, in a neat, blue velvet box.

He just needs to wait two days. Two days and he’ll give Steve his courting gift on Christmas’ Eve day, during lunch, and he’s going to ask him if he accepts his courting.

No misunderstandings, not hey, I saw this and thought of you, or look! Early Christmas present! No.

A real proposition.

They’re working double shifts because of the holidays, and they have one whole hour for lunch. Eddie runs towards Spoons Ahoy, planning to ask Steve to spend their hour together - as they do now - and finds Steve holding to the counter for dear life, cheeks red and covered in fresh sweat. Thankfully, there are no clients at this hour.

“Stevie!” Eddie shouts and rushes behind the counter, Robin appearing at his screaming.

“Eddie? What… Steve?”

“Steve, sweetheart, are you ok?”

“It’s… too hot,” Steve sighs, tugging at the collar of his sailor uniform.

“Eddie?” Robin asks, scared and scrunching her nose covered in freckles. “Is he… Is he in heat?”

“Y-yeah, yes, smells like it,” Eddie says. Steve’s scent is sweeter than ever, dry lavender under august’s sun and roasted hazelnuts filling and dizzying Eddie’s mind, his own body reacting to his omega’s needs. “He can’t work like this.”

“Go with him, I’ll inform Joe, too.”

“Robin, I can’t… We’re not… He never…” Eddie doesn’t know how to say that he can’t go and betray Steve’s trust. Eddie can’t trust himself, not when Steve is so vulnerable. But Robin basically shoves them towards the exit, ignoring Eddie’s weak protests.

Ok, new plan. Eddie is good at improvising and he’s a firm believer that adaptability it’s a great skill. He has a new plan now.

The new plan is to leave Steve at his house, safe and sound, and then provide for whatever Steve could need.

“Eddie…,” the omega whispers, arching his back in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. “Eddie, it’s too hot.”

“I know, baby, I know,” Eddie tries to soothe him. “It’s your heat, it’s starting now. I’m going to leave you at home, ok?” Eddie caresses the omega’s face, he’s burning as if in fever.

“Would you spend it with me?” Steve asks, whines hopefully and in pain. Fuck.

“I can’t, baby,” Eddie answers, swallowing around the lump in his throat and driving as carefully as he can while his hindbrain is howling. Steve is whimpering, so close to him, scenting his van. “I want to, you know… Fuck, Stevie, you know that I want to, but I can’t do this to you, not like this.”

“Like this?” Steve asks, frowning even if he keeps whimpering softly.

“You know…” Eddie makes a vague gesture with his hand. “Like this.” He repeats. “In heat, you’re like, hindbrain is in control and all that, right?”

Steve barks an angry, incredulous laugh at Eddie.

“Is that how a rut feels for you?” Steve asks.

The alpha looks at Steve sideways, blushing and feeling like the idiot he is. Nods sharply. All alphas are knotheads, after all, aren’t they?

“Eds… I’m in heat, not drugged,” Steve sighs, clearly annoyed and smelling Eddie’s scent, lips parted and nostrils flaring. “I know what I’m doing, and I’m asking you to spend my heat with me, if you want me.”

If you want me. If you want me.

Eddie growls at that, his hindbrain howling. He reaches to hold Steve’s hand, squeezes hard, the omega feels clammy and scorching hot because of the heat.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Stevie, baby.”

Eddie doesn’t remember how they made it to Steve’s house, only that he’s grateful that the Harringtons are always out of Hawkins, because Eddie can’t stop kissing Steve while the omega leads them to his room.

Steve breaks their kiss, their first kiss - not like Eddie had planned but he’s not complaining - and starts rummaging through his room, grabbing blankets and sheets and rearranging his bed. No, his nest.

“Fuck, fuck, I can’t get it right,” the omega sobs after a while, fighting against a pillow.

This is more what Eddie expected, if he’s honest. When the hindbrain takes control, logic goes away and instinct takes everything. Steve is now succumbing to it, groaning and snapping, and Eddie falls in love with him even more.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Eddie gets closer, calmly and with his hands raised up. “May I help you?”

Steve’s face is red, fat tears running down his cheeks. Eddie’s heart breaks a bit at the sight, the urge to fight against whatever it is that is making Steve unhappy too strong, his hindbrain too loud to ignore.

“I have nothing that smells like you,” Steve sobs again, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his uniform.

“We can take care of that, hm?” Eddie reassures and Steve looks at him. “I just, I need to… Can I get closer?”

Eddie’s body is reacting to Steve’s scent, to his heat, and when Steve flares his nostrils, lips parted to chase Eddie’s own scent, he knows the omega is tasting his own arousal. Eddie is already getting hard in his jeans, urgency tugging at him in a new, desperate way. There’s this sudden urge to close all the doors and windows, to make sure his omega is safe here. To make sure they have plenty of food and water and whatever Steve could need.

Steve’s heat is triggering the alpha’s deepest instincts, his own rut. Faster now that he’s with an omega in heat, more desperate if that’s possible, quicker the way his body reacts and his hindbrain shuts down his rational mind. If someone tried to enter the house now, Eddie knows he would fight them with teeth and nails.

The omega nods at him, offers Eddie his hand and the alpha rushes to take it in his, kneels in front of Steve and kisses his hand, nuzzles his warm, soft palm, noses Steve’s wrist glands. It’s so different from every other time, so intimate.

“Stevie, sweetheart, I want to give you whatever you could want,” Eddie whispers against the omega’s wrist, who gasps and thrashes, still fully clothed. His rut is overwhelming him and he needs to do something before he loses it completely. “I just want to know that this… that this is what you really want?”

Eddie’s speech is slurred, he can feel it, like he’s drunk but still thinking properly. Still in charge of himself but not for long, and hopes Steve is still in charge of himself, too.

No, of course they’re not drugged, as Steve said, and maybe it’s different for the omega. But Eddie? He knows he’s losing his mind, he needs to be sure. He needs to claim, the only way he can, now.

“Eddie, I told you, I know what I… oh.”

The alpha, who has been carrying the blue velvet box with him for weeks now, too anxious to leave it at home and yet patting it on his pocket every five minutes, is now holding it in front of Steve.

“Eds? Is this…?”

“Open it, please,” Eddie begs, his hips bucking, armpits stinging, his rut coming to him in waves of painful need. “You don’t have to say yes but fuck, I… I hope you say yes, Stevie, I just… I want to ask you… I’ve been wanting for a long time, actually, never sure if you… if you ever…”

He’s rambling, his hindbrain snarling inside him. If Steve rejects him, and still wants Eddie to stay, Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll survive that. If Steve wants him to leave, Eddie would leave the country, leave it for good and never look back.

Steve opens the box and his eyes widen, the light brown swallowed by the black of his pupils, his delicate fingertip caressing the simple pendant.

“A blackberry,” he whispers. “Eddie, is a silver blackberry.”

Steve is smiling when he looks at Eddie.

“It’s… a courting gift, Stevie,” Eddie reassures, his intentions clear, or so he hopes.

“You always smell like ripe blackberries and chocolate when we’re together,” Steve smiles, his eyes bright.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, breathless. “Do you accept it?”

Eddie finds himself with a lapful of happy, chirping omega who is peppering kisses all over his face. They fall to the ground, Steve stradling him, and Eddie hugging Steve back, laughing, feeling weightless and yet like he’s a supernova.

“I thought… Eddie, what took you this long?” Steve pouts before grinning again. “Of course I accept it, silly alpha, help me?”

They stand clumsily, clawing at the last moments of rational thinking to enjoy this moment. Eddie closes the chain around Steve’s neck, takes his chance to kiss at the moles right there in his jaw, the omega shivering under his touch.

After that, it’s all a blur. Steve undresses himself hastily, tossing the uniform somewhere, leaving only the new silver blackberry, and urges Eddie to do the same. The omega steals Eddie’s handkerchief and puts it on his nest, next goes Eddie’s t-shirt, faded and soft and comfortable, and the alpha knows Steve is going to keep his favorite t-shirt when he nuzzles it, pressing it against his face and inhaling deeply. He feels a deep rush of pride, smiling wolfishly, thinking: mine.

“Better?” Eddie manages to ask when Steve deems the nest good enough.

“No,” Steve answers, takes his hands and pulls at him until Eddie is on the nest, laughing, laying barenaked for Steve to touch and scent and enjoy. “Ok, now, perfect.”

They can’t keep talking after that, their needs far too urgent to deny them now that they’re together. Eddie is not a virgin, but he has never shared a nest with an omega in heat, nor has he spent his rut with someone, and it’s so intense, so overwhelming.

It’s so good. So fucking amazing, he’s not ready for something like this, and yet, he can’t believe he’s been living without this.

Steve’s skin is burning and dripping wet when Eddie gets his mouth on him, his little cocklet throbbing in his tongue under the alpha’s ministrations while his own cock is aching, leaking precum all over the nest.

“Alpha, alpha, I need you,” are the last coherent words Steve pronounces that night. Eddie has half a mind to grab one of the condoms Steve tossed into the nest.

Eddie kisses him while he breaches him, his cunt so wet and ready for him, swallowing him to the hilt, until he’s buried deep in the omega.

“Omega,” Eddie worships him, and knows he’ll always worship Steve.

The omega thrashes and bites him in his shoulders and arms, leaving the marks he can while avoiding his mating gland. Eddie hopes they can claim each other in the future.

They wail and whine, their moans and breath mingling, Eddie rolling his hips chasing Steve’s pleasure again and again, the feeling of his walls clenching around him making him believe in a higher power.

“Alpha, alpha, alpha,” Steve chants, and tugs at Eddie’s dark curls, making the alpha growl, his hips stuttering, the knot at his base swelling and catching at Steve’s entrance.

A powerful, earth-shattering orgasm hits Eddie and leaves him breathless, knotting them together. The alpha howls at the sensation, Steve all around him even if he’s still underneath the alpha. The omega is milking him, riding his own pleasure, and Eddie loses himself in their mixed scents and the overwhelming truth that is to admit at last that he actually is in love with Steve Harrington.

Eddie awakes to the sound of a rumbling, loud purr. His muscles are sore and he’s thirsty and hungry as never before, but he’s also sated and happy, his own purr starting happily when he remembers the night before.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Eddie whispers, kissing Steve’s rumbling chest, nuzzling him and feeling absurdly proud of their mingled scents, plus the mess of sweat and slick and overall smell of sex.

“Hngmng,” Steve mumbles, his fingers tangled in Eddie’s fingers and playing idly.

Eddie props over his elbows to look at the magnificent sight that is Steve Harrington, completely naked in the morning light, in the mess of a nest they made together last night. The alpha smiles, completely smitten.

“Is it still too hot, baby?” Eddie asks, and kisses Steve’s lips, softly.

“Hm, not now, but… soon,” Steve answers, biting his lower lip, his soft gaze locked in Eddie’s eyes. He touches his own chest, finds the silver blackberry, and a shiver runs down his spine, Eddie feels like shivering, too. “You meant it?”

“The courting gift? Of course, sweetheart.”

Steve nods, biting his lower lip. Eddie has the need to kiss him again.

“And that you want to give me everything I want? Would you scent me when I’m scared? All that, you meant it?”

“Yeah, omega, I meant it, I mean it… Do you still accept my courtship?” Eddie needs to know, needs to be sure. He’ll probably need to hear it often, still feeling like a dream.

“Yes, Eds,” Steve’s laugh sounds like a chirp, far too adorable. “Do you realize that I’ve been flirting with you since you started working at Divinyl Records, right?”

Eddie blinks once, twice. Wants to say that, yes, that he knew all this time, but the truth is that he’s still wondering if all this is really happening.

“I- Sure.”

Steve chuckles, wraps his legs around the alpha’s waist and pulls at him until they’re kissing again, the urgency rising slowly, letting them enjoy their kiss.

During their lunch on Christmas’ Eve day, Starcourt bursting with people doing last time shopping, Eddie and Steve sit closer than usual. The omega is almost sitting in Eddie’s lap, and the alpha can’t stop nuzzling at his boyfriend’s hair and neck. He feels invincible.

Steve shoves a black velvet box towards Eddie, and kisses him right in his scent gland under his ear, making the alpha growl in pleasure.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, lips curling in a smile.

“Just open it, Eds,” Steve smiles.

Eddie obliges and opens the box to reveal a silver hazelnut.

“Yes, Eddie Munson,” Steve whispers in his ear. “I accept your courting.”

#steddie fanfiction #steddie #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #alpha beta omega dynamics #fluffy chicken writes #Hazelnuts serires

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