#and id probably end up vomiting >_<

[spaciebabie]

Its so strange watching you muse over how you'll act when drunk, thats such a "never drank before" thing to do 🤣 /lh

Just so you're aware, its a Thing where different alcohols can result in different types of drunk, you're not gonna feel the same from every drink. Like for example, whisky makes us crazy sleepy, its the chill drink, we're gonna end up dozing off on the couch after just one or two drinks, there is no energy or party from that shit. Wine (white) is our drink of choice and we're a mess on it, especially the strong stuff, we're a chatterbox and a weirdo on it and there's a brief window of time between the drink hitting us hard and the exhaustion hitting us hard where we dance a bunch and fall over a lot (the exhaustion isn't caused by the dancing, it'll happen either way and is completely inevitable). And vodka (our second choice in drinks, though still a definite favourite) makes us LOUD, we yell A LOT on that shit, whatever comes to mind, and we get pretty kooky on it, its the funnest drink for sure, if we're down to party (solo party with 30+ people in one body because we have no outside friends) vodka is the drink of choice for sure, the energy lasts the longest and the Vibes are great.

Similarly to this, different drinks get different hangovers. For us whisky has no hangover (mostly because we can't stay awake long enough to drink enough to cause a hangover), wine FUCKS us up and we feel pretty nauseous, and vodka makes us the endless void portal pit to another dimension where the residents demand food sacrifices and if the food stops coming they will start chopping heads, we eat EVERYTHING in our hangover munchie rampage, normally we cant eat unless we're craving the food but those munchies make us tear through everything in sight regardless of what it is, its an expensive disaster

Good luck finding out how you respond to various drinks, its gonna take a bit of experimentation and no it cant be done all in one night, that's a bad idea for sure

oh man! i did not know this. thank yall for the information :>

i definitely dont plan on going too hard on my first time dkjfdkfjdf im probably just gonna have a tasty wine and relax :]

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

"yes im so fine"

*researches whether i can get my hands on ipecac*

[scar-crossedlvrs]

All hail ID! Leon!!! I’m wondering how he would reacts when his Reader! young gf got kidnapped or been taken as hostage. Let’s just say maybe she got at the wrong place wrong time? Chris and Leon partnered up to save her 🫢 (I don’t want Leon go thru this alone, he got enough shit already tbh)

(I don’t know if you’re gonna write this up or not but whatever it is, stay safe and take care of yourself gorl 🩵)

Leon S Kennedy - Help Me

ID!Leon is my favorite Leon no questions about it. I have this headcanon that ID!Leon is the one with the most confidence in his skills & second most optimistic Leon era just due to his successes ( saving ashley and the ‘dozens of successful missions’ that shen mei references ). Anyway, watch me rip that all away in one fell swoop.

cw for : f!reader, kidnapping, swearing, blood mention, implied age gap (up to you tbh), reckless driving, chris redfield, it’s mostly just a mess of angst and anger.

gentle reminder that all of my works sfw or not are intended for 18+ audiences.

The inbox is open for requests.

How many times had he told you to lock the goddamned doors?

Fingers drum against the steering wheel as he weaves in and out of traffic. His phone trilled in his ear as he drove and the longer it rang, the more his gut bubbled with anxiety.

“Pick up the fucking phone Redfield.”

The scene was still vivid in his mind. Your front door slightly ajar as he pulled up to your house. Leon had immediately been put on edge by this. The overwhelming feeling of panic however, didn’t set in until he noticed the bright red smear across the white painted wood.

Inside the house wasn’t much better, turned over from top to bottom. Every single one of your meticulously placed photos and knickknacks were strewn smashed on the floor, broken glass, plastic and porcelain everywhere. All decorated with a spattering of red. The same scene played out in each and every one of the rooms. It didn't seem to be a run of the mill robbery though. Nothing of value was missing, nothing besides you.

The worst part was the way your phone went to voicemail every single time he called.

“Hello?”

Leon’s torn from his thoughts at the sound of the voice on the other end of the phone. Chris Redfield.

“Answer the phone any slower?” he’s snappy, frustrated, scared.

It must have been obvious, with the way the concern laced into Chris’s words. “Leon? Is something wrong?”

“She’s gone, Chris. The house is a mess and her phone just goes straight to voicemail. Someone was there, and I think they took her.”

The word vomit just spews from his lips as he switches lanes again, white-knuckling the steering wheel as icy eyes dart around. He’s not sure where he’s going, what he’s looking for. He’s not sure of anything anymore.

Had he gotten too cocky, too lax in his security? Everything had been going so well since Ashley. He had been saving people. What the fuck went wrong? Fuck, he should have pressed the issue harder when he asked you to move in with him. At least there he could have kept a better eye on you, kept you safe. This wouldn’t have happened.

Leon was spiraling.

“Are you still with me, Kennedy?” Chris’s voice broke through the haze again.

"Yeah." Barely.

"You sure she was at home? She's probably just not answering your calls."

Chris didn't know you, didn't know that you didn't just ignore phone calls, especially not his calls. You weren't just ignoring him.

"I wouldn't have called you if I thought she was just ignoring my calls. The place was torn up Redfield. Whoever it was, was looking for something. There was blood fucking everywhere." His words came out more aggressive than intended.

They had to, he needed to get his point across.

“Okay, yeah that’s bad. But I can’t just get clearance to do anything..”

“I’m not asking you to deploy the BSAA. I’m asking you to help me” Leon cut him off.

The silence that hangs makes him regret calling Chris. Had he made a call to the wrong Redfield? He should have just called Claire. She wouldn’t have hesitated so much, wouldn’t have wasted so much time. That was if she even picked up the phone.

Either way, for once, he couldn’t do this on his own. Not like this.

"Go home. I'll meet you there. We'll figure this out okay? Don't do anything stupid Leon."

"Yeah."

---

Your head is aching, forehead damp with sweat or blood ( you're not sure which ), feet sore and bloodied from stumbling through the shattered glass on your living room floor. Eyes are covered with a thick blindfold, and the room is dark and quiet.

All alone with your thoughts. Thoughts of how you ended up here. How you had been so distracted, unable to notice the men coming in through the unlocked front door. One snatching you up as the other set out to look for something, smashing everything in his path. Your screams fell on deaf ears, feet being dragged through the mess on the floor as you struggled to break free.

Until a sharp pain to the back of the head forced you into unconsciousness.

There's the sound of shuffling, metal clinking, and there's something pressed to your ear. A phone? There's a few moments of trilling rings before a voice answers with a panicked "Hello?"

"Leon?"

Your voice is hoarse from the screaming earlier, and tears sting at your eyes.

"Baby where are you?" You've never heard him sound like this, scared.

"I don't know, Lee. Help me. I don't know where I am. It's dark and I'm scared."

Before he can respond, the phone is pulled from your ear. The scream ripped from your throat as his voice was cut off by the phone being hung up. A sharp laugh caused a shiver to course through you as you struggled against your bindings.

"Think that got his attention, hm princess?"

________________________________________________

uh i don't know where I was going to go with this, meaning cliffhanger!!! one person says they want more & i'll plan out more <3

[notyourhetloki]

hi! id love to see your take on ken getting drunk for the first time/seeing reader getting drunk for the first time and being confused out of his mind lol

drunk Ken headcanons (Ken x Reader)

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Reader/

A/N: Hi, anon! I wrote this in a headcanon format, I hope you don't mind! It's short but I think it's decent so here you go ~

Warnings: of course mentions of alcohol, substance abuse.

—

Yeah, after Ken brought beers from the Real World to Barbieland, getting drunk was now a possibility.

When it comes to drinking, he would usually be pretty chill. But there were a few occasions when he got a little too excited and took more than he should.

You were both drinking at a party when Ken started getting uncontrollably giggly, laughing at everything you said and becoming especially touchy as well.

He would mess with your hair, fidget with your clothes and dare to put an arm around your neck with a big goofy smile stamped on his face.

Ah, Ken would also get extremely flirty, full of drunk confidence… getting real close to your face and talking sweet nothings into your ear. “You look so pretty tonight, did you change your hair?” or “Hm, you smell good…”

Let's also mention the fact Ken would DEFINITELY be prone to accidents, I mean... he would try to show off and probably end up hurt. Besides that, he would also try arguing with other Kens, competing on who's better on x thing... and he would do it passionately, to say the least (he'd be the ultimate hype man).

He felt extremely weird the first time it happened, not knowing why he was acting that way… and later he became too dizzy to even walk properly! You had to practically carry him home that night (and let's not talk about the vomit part).

Oh the day after… he was SO hung over, it felt absolutely horrible. Good thing he had you to take care of him…

It was… confusing to say the least. He had never felt that way before, his whole body tingling in a good way but also completely out of his control? Yeah, it was a little terrifying... but with a bit of research, you two soon found out what had happened. Getting drunk was now something to be mindful of!

Even so, it happened again inevitably. This time, it was YOUR time to get tipsy, and by the time it occurred, Ken already knew what was going on.

He looked out for you but found so funny the way you were laughing and having fun. He stuck by your side, giggling along and making sure you stayed hydrated!

Ken would also take care of you if you were hung over, not leaving you alone for one second.

In the end, getting drunk from time to time became pretty fun, especially when you both had each other’s back.

—

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 6/?

Read on AO3

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Ahahahahahahaha, this plot bunny is the size of a fuckin' dinosaur now and I have NO REGRETS! *weeps a little*

Many thanks to @the-little-red-queen, @aquamarineglitter, and especially @bornunderabluemoonbaby for helping my untangle a few thorny plot points, just listening to me word vomit, and even providing some truly excellent background music :) Thank you so much!

Evan may have agreed to sit down and talk with Tommy, but his wary eyes were still those of a trapped animal.

Tommy could feel them boring holes into the side of his head as he dug through the clothes stored in the dresser for something clean that would fit the witch. Tommy didn’t live here—the apartment building was a coven safehouse, meant to be a place where coven members could lie low or regroup in emergencies—but all of them kept a few essentials in the various apartments they’d claimed as their own over the years. Clothes, cash, forged documents…the standard bug out kit that Tommy had been stashing in various places all over the world for centuries (Hell, by now some of his caches had probably been “rediscovered” and placed in museums). There was even an industrial-sized freezer in the building’s sub-basement that Josh kept stocked with bagged blood.

He ignored Evan’s stare, eventually gathering a clean pair of sweats and a hoodie that would probably fit him. He was pretty muscular—not as broad as Tommy was, but certainly not a small man—and they were basically the same height. When he turned back around, Evan hadn’t moved from the bed. He had a white-knuckled grip on the bedspread, just glaring at Tommy unblinkingly.

He moved very, very slowly, holding the clothes up so Evan could see and setting them down on the end of the bed before backing away again, holding his hands up in plain sight.

Evan’s gaze flitted down to the clothes, but then back to Tommy’s face. “How do you know my name?” he asked, suspicion thick enough to cut through in his voice.

Tommy tilted his head, considering. The ID in the witch’s wallet had a false name on it. Given the fact that Evan had, apparently, been banished, that made a certain amount of sense. Banishment was not a consequence for a small crime, after all. Between the shock of what had happened at the party, Tommy drinking from him, and the aftereffects of a thrall as powerful as Tommy’s was, the kid’s memories had to be at least a little hazy. Somehow, Tommy got the feeling that reminding him he’d basically been forced into giving up his real name would be a bad idea.

He jerked a thumb towards the wallet and pack of gum lying out on the nightstand. “Looked at your driver’s license. One of my coven found your Jeep in the staff parking—I had him bring it here and put it in the garage.”

Evan reeled back in surprise at that, and Tommy didn’t think he was imagining the relief that flooded through his expression at the mention of the old blue Jeep that Sal had shown up with in the last couple hours before sunrise. Almost instantly, though, his face shuttered, smoothing back over into wary tension. “And, uh, when do I get, get my keys back?” he asked, the slight stammer belying the bravado the demand was delivered with.

“That depends on how the conversation goes. For right now—shower. Change. There’s a diner around the corner that serves breakfast all day. Never had it myself, obviously, but the line’s usually out the door and they’ve been in the same spot for thirty years. Anything you won’t eat?”

Evan blinked at him, a little confusion cutting through the wariness now. “N-no?” he said, the word coming out far more like a question than a statement.

“All right, I’ll get a spread. Bathroom’s downstairs. I think there’s mouthwash under the sink, but fuck if I know when it was bought. There’s towels and washcloths already in there. I go by Tommy these days. Tommy Kinard.”

Evan’s eyes grew bigger and bigger as he spoke, more confusion filling them as his brow furrowed. Tension radiated off of him, his back so tight Tommy thought his spine might snap if he tried to touch him. Clearly, he had no idea what to do with a vampire that was rattling off a spiel that sounded more like the awkward end of a one-night stand than the terms of what should be his imminent captivity and/or death.

It might have been playing dirty, but Tommy had known the value in keeping your enemy off balance before Evan’s ancestors were born, and he didn’t want to thrall the kid again if it could be helped.

Not that he wanted the witch to be his enemy.

The stray thought pulled him up short as he preceded Evan down the stairs (if that one burst of magic earlier was anything to go by, the kid probably didn’t have enough strength right now to mount a serious bid for escape, but there was no sense being stupid about it), and he heard Evan’s breath hitch at the pause. He forced himself to continue casually down to the living area, flopping down on the couch like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Or an extremely jumpy witch only a few feet away.

He made a show of turning the TV on, grimacing a little when some godawful reality show popped up on the screen—clearly Lucy or Ravi had been the last person to use it. He pretended to find the Bachelor Housewives of Survivor Island or whatever the fuck it was engrossing as Evan hesitated at the foot of the stairs, his eyes darting between Tommy and the (seemingly) unguarded door. He’d never make it. Even if he managed to fire off a spell, with witch blood coursing through Tommy’s veins, Evan would be lucky to even make it out the door, let alone all the way to the stairwell.

He silently hoped the kid didn’t try. He really wasn’t interested in traumatizing him further. After a long moment, Evan took a few wavering steps towards the bathroom door, obviously still a little woozy from being drained. An unfamiliar flash of guilt unfurled in Tommy’s gut…he really hadn’t meant to take so much; he’d just been trying to get Gerrard to lose interest and move on.

But God, Evan’s blood had been delicious. Not just powerful—witch blood was always powerful. The taste of Evan’s had exploded on Tommy’s tongue, lit up every nerve ending in his body like pure electricity. He’d wanted the witch closer, wanted to hold him close forever, wanted to taste more of him, wanted to taste all of him. It had been a good century or two since the last time he’d drunk from a witch, but he didn’t remember it feeling like that. Granted, that witch had been actively trying to kill him at the time, but still…

Evan vanished into the bathroom, and Tommy almost chuckled at the sound of the flimsy push-button lock engaging. He muted the TV and kept one ear tuned to the bathroom as the water started, listening intently for the sound of a spell being chanted. He was taking a risk letting Evan out of his sight even long enough to take a shower, but he genuinely didn’t think the witch had the strength to do anything drastic right now. After he had some food and proper rest, it might be a different story…but he thought it was worth the risk right now.

But worth the risk to what?

As before, the thought pulled him up short. What was his end game here? He’d promised Lucy he would come up with a plan…he needed to. He and Alonzo had a great relationship, and their coven master had never really treated Tommy like a subordinate, even after he’d stepped down as second in command, but he knew that Evan’s mere presence in the coven safehouse was an unfathomably large risk. That Alonzo had not already stormed through the door demanding that they kill the witch immediately was a measure of the respect Alonzo had for him and his instincts. Still, he couldn’t ask his coven master to ‘just trust him’ for very much longer. He needed to figure out what he was going to do with Evan.

The water was still running, but he’d yet to hear the sound of the shower door opening and closing. Silently, he rose from the couch and slipped over to the door, listening for any indication that Evan was about to do something foolish.

What he heard was the sound of the young man almost hyperventilating, his rapid, panting breaths ragged and watery around the edges. The sound was too low to the ground…as though Evan had locked the door behind him and just sunk to the floor.

The guilt twisted harder in Tommy’s gut. The witch had to be terrified.

Tommy just couldn’t figure out why that bothered him so much. Sure, he tried not to go out of his way to be cruel to humans, but nor was he going out of his way to be especially nice to them. Getting…getting attached to humans never ended well. Or at least, it had never ended well for him. And Evan was a goddamned witch. Not only did it not make sense to be so affected by his distress, it was dangerous. To Tommy personally, as well as pretty much everyone he gave even the remotest damn about. He should have turned the decision of what to do with him over to Alonzo while Evan was still unconscious.

And accepted that the most logical thing to do was kill him.

Something in Tommy refused to just hand Evan’s fate over to his coven master, though. Something inside him rebelled at the thought of killing the witch. It made no sense. He couldn’t explain the impulse to keep Evan out of harm’s way any more now than he had been able to at Gerrard’s…he just knew he wanted to. Needed to.

But that still begged the question what he was going to do. Even if he could convince Alonzo to keep Evan alive, how could they neutralize him? Once he recovered his strength, he’d be too dangerous to leave loose in the coven house or the loft. It might not even be possible if Evan had ever trained in transportation spells. Either they’d have to keep him too drained to use his magic effectively, or they’d have to use even more unsavory methods to keep him under control. He knew, vaguely, that there were ways to nullify a witch’s powers, but it wasn’t like he could just call Howie up and ask him.

There was another option, of course. A crazy, even riskier option than keeping Evan prisoner. One that honestly had a snowball’s chance in Hell of even working…but the idea kept trying to worm its way to the forefront of Tommy’s mind. What if…just what if…

He shook his head, listening as the ragged, teary gasps on the other side of the bathroom door started to taper off. He heard Evan climb slowly off the floor of the bathroom, and then eventually the shower door opened, the sound of water pouring down on the tile floor of the shower briefly growing louder. One thing at a time. First, he had to get the witch to talk to him, and to do that, he had to get him out of fight or flight mode. Right. Easier said than done.

He crossed back to the couch and pulled his phone out, searching up the online delivery menu for the little diner around the corner that Lucy frequently took Lena to. He had no idea what was even an appropriate amount of food for a human Evan’s size—but Lena swore the pancakes were the best she’d ever had. He ordered a stack of them with butter and syrup, as well as a carafe of orange juice. After a moment’s hesitation, he added scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage links, and an assortment of sliced fruits that looked tempting in the picture on the menu. Should he get oatmeal? Maybe a yogurt parfait? The cinnamon rolls looked good, too. Fuck it. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. He threw the other items into his cart and sped through the checkout, paying extra for quick delivery, and added a generous tip.

No sooner had he closed his phone’s web browser than it rang, Josh’s contact number popping up on the screen. Tommy froze for a bare instant, surprise flashing through him. Lucy had just set Josh onto seeing what he could find out about Evan Buckley only a few hours ago. If he was already calling, then he’d either already hit a wall, or—

“Kinard, what the hell kind of hornet’s nest did you step in?” Josh demanded as soon as he connected the call.

Or whatever he had found was going to cause problems. Tommy sighed. Yeah, that tracked.

“Good morning, Josh. How are you, Josh? I’m great, thanks for asking,” Tommy said flatly, his eyes trained on the bathroom door.

“Shut it, Tommy,” Josh snapped, and Tommy sat up a little straighter. Josh sounded stressed, and coming from a vampire Tommy had personally witnessed make vampires twice or even thrice his age break down into tears, that was…disconcerting.

“Josh?” he said, cautiously. “Did you find something?”

“Okay, first of all, I cannot tell you how much easier it would make my life—all our lives really—if you were somehow mistaken and you are not at our safehouse with a banished witch named Evan Buckley. So, this witch…is he about twenty-two, twenty-three years old?”

“Twenty-three, according to his driver’s license.”

“Of course. Pretty distinctive birthmark over one of his eyes?”

“Uh…yes?”

“Perfect!” Josh exclaimed, in a tone that suggested it was absolutely not perfect. “And are you sure he’s been banished?”

“I mean, we haven’t exactly exchanged life stories, but he was alone in a vampire den and he doesn’t have a familiar…unless it’s, like, a flea or a snail or something and I just haven’t noticed.”

Instead of the snort of laughter his sarcasm usually got from the other vampire, he heard Josh breathe out through his nose. Very slowly. “Tommy. As your friend and this coven’s head of security, you need to get rid of him. Right now. Drain him dry…we might need the firepower. And then dump the body as far out of our territory as you can manage.”

Shock raced through Tommy, and he actually jerked his phone away from his ear to stare at the screen in disbelief. Josh…Josh never talked like this. The younger vampire was fiercely protective of them all, and took his job managing all of their digital records and finances very seriously. He was a gifted strategist, and certainly had no qualms about sending Tommy, Sal, or one of their other stronger members out to “deal” with problems that came up—but it wasn’t like him to immediately jump to violence. He placed the phone back against his ear.

“What? Why?”

“You know I’ve got some…contacts in witch covens around the country. People that do the same things I do. We’re not friends. We’re not even allies. But we all understand that preventing conflicts between vampires and witches is in everybody’s best interests, and we exchange information to that end. I didn’t even have to ask anyone to go hacking—they just knew about this kid. It was a huge scandal. He’s from the east coast. Pennsylvania. His family is old magic, and I’m talking old magic. Their coven traces back all the way to before the Black Death in Europe. About five years ago, Evan Buckley was banished for murdering his brother-in-law…guy named Doug Kendall.”

Tommy frowned, his mind racing. Okay…okay, he sort of knew this from the strange vision he’d had while drinking from Evan. Licking his lips, he said, “Is his sister’s name Maddie?”

“What? How did you—never mind. Yes. Why?”

Holy shit. Holy shit that had all been real? “Nothing, no reason. Okay, so he killed his brother-in-law. Why do you want me to get rid of him so fast? There are people in our coven who have done that.”

“Because the implications and possible consequences of him still having his magic are bigger than our coven can deal with. Even during the trial, there were some doubts he was guilty. The kid was seventeen…and his brother-in-law was in line for a position on the Pennsylvania high coven. Do you know how powerful high coven witches are? There were also apparently some rumors that Doug Kendall was abusive to his wife.”

Tommy hissed, remembering the intensity of Evan’s feelings for his sister. How much he regretted not being able to protect her…and how much he had wanted to protect her during his trial. “Is it possible him and his sister were in on it together? Or that he was actually covering for her?”

Josh sighed wearily. “You are…not the first person to ask that. But the Kendalls are old magic and old money. Incredibly politically connected. And they wanted someone to pay. If the wife did it, unless there was overwhelming evidence that she’d done it in self-defense…well. You and I both know how loud money and connections can talk in situations like that. And the penalty for an adult coven member using their magic like that is execution.”

“But killing a seventeen-year-old boy would have been a harder sell,” Tommy mused. He could see it. He didn’t know jack shit about Evan, not really, but he remembered the absolutely unyielding love he felt for his sister from the memory he’d seen while drinking from him. Tommy had no problem believing Evan Buckley would have taken the fall for his brother-in-law’s murder if it kept her safe.

“Tommy, if this is the same witch—just the fact that his magic hasn’t faded after his coven bonds were severed is proof that he was innocent. The fact that he still has his magic five years after losing his coven bond is just insane. Even if he was innocent, he should have lost it by now.”

“I’m still not seeing why I should kill him,” Tommy said impatiently. He glanced over at the bathroom door again, assuring himself that the water was still running. “Lucy even said we had to think about the advantage he could give us. If Gerrard and Ortiz team up, witch blood could be the ace in the hole that keeps us from having to leave LA.”

“Tommy, listen to me carefully,” Josh said. “Not this witch’s blood. It’s not worth the absolute shitstorm that would come down on us if anyone ever found out we had him. This kid’s existence is dangerous for the entire Pennsylvania high coven. Do you understand how big that is in the witches’ politics? It has national implications. No. Alonzo already said I have final say on what we do with him. It’s safest to kill him.”

“Josh,” Tommy protested, and didn’t even know what he was going to say. His head was spinning with the new information.

And in his heart, he knew he wouldn’t be able to follow through with what Josh was asking him to do. He couldn’t kill Evan. He had no idea why…but he couldn’t do it.

“Tommy, there’s no other choice. Alonzo wants him dead and disposed of by sundown. If you can’t do it, Sal will.”

In the bathroom, the water finally shut off, and Tommy heard Evan step out of the shower. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch, his mind racing. “All right. I understand,” he said finally, disconnecting the call before Josh could say anything else.

Well…fuck.

[munsonkitten]

After his shift, Eddie tells Steve he has a few errands to run before he goes home, and Steve says he’ll be over later. They separate at their cars, parked side by side, and Eddie finds Steve watching him as he climbs into his van. 

He gives a small little wave and a smile in Steve’s direction and then slams his door shut and starts up his loud engine. 

He peels out of the parking lot before Steve’s even in his car. 

“Hey, Ed,” the man at the liquor store says. “Long time no see.”

“Haven’t been drinking much, to be honest, Reggie,” Eddie tells him, bringing up a case of beer. The cheapest stuff he can get because he doesn’t know if Dustin is paying him back or not. “Throwing a little party tonight, though.”

Eddie passes over his cash, and Reggie doesn’t ask for his ID. He never has, and probably never will, not even when Eddie turns twenty one next month. His fake goes to waste in a town like this, only gets him into bars out in Indy, really, and he hasn’t gone out there in almost a year. Stopped when he decided he was serious about graduating, then everything went to shit, and now he doesn’t feel the need. 

Truthfully, Dustin probably could’ve gotten his own beer, but Eddie isn’t going to tell him that. He doesn’t want him getting in trouble on the off chance someone sees him, and he’d have to bike home with it all. Yeah, better not say anything. 

Eddie pulls up to the Hendersons’ house and curses under his breath when he sees Steve’s car in the driveway. He’s standing there, arms crossed as he leans against the back of it. 

He lifts his hand in a little wave when he sees Eddie, but his face says he isn’t happy to see him. 

Eddie can play this cool — he told Steve he was coming over here to bring some books, and while it was implied that they’d be D&D books, Steve won’t know that for sure. So Eddie pulls a battered old copy of The Hobbit out of his glove box, and kills his engine. 

“Hey,” Steve calls out. 

Eddie holds the book up for Steve to see. 

“One thing I forgot to tell you before you clocked out today,” Steve says. “Is that sound carries pretty well in the store.”

“Oh, well,” Eddie says. “Uh. That’s good to know. I just came to bring Dustin the book he asked for.”

“Cut the shit, Eddie,” Steve says. 

They’re standing a few feet apart in Dustin’s driveway, and Eddie sees the curtains in the front of the house move. Open, and then slam shut again. If he concentrates hard enough, he can hear Dustin’s panicked shit shit shit shit, but he knows that’s all in his head. 

His own thoughts are exactly the same.

“Okay,” Eddie says softly. “Okay, yeah. You’re right.”

“What am I right about?” Steve prompts. 

If Eddie weren’t feeling like he’s in trouble, he’d think Steve is really hot right now. All firm voice and no nonsense posture. If Eddie didn’t feel like he’s about to get his ass kicked, he’d be soaking through his boxers. 

“You’re right. I should cut the shit,” Eddie says simply. “I bought Dustin drinks for his party.”

“And do you think that was a good idea, Eddie?” Steve asks, exasperation in his voice. 

“I think I’ve been drinking since I was younger than them,” Eddie says. “And so have you.”

“And you want them to end up like us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie scoffs. 

“These kids start drinking now and it’s gonna be the way they deal with everything! You, of all people, should know that, Eddie! I had to—” Steve cuts himself off abruptly, clamps his mouth shut again. 

Eddie knows exactly what he was going to say. He knows that he’s going to say something about how he came over one day in July and found Eddie curled up on his side, a puddle of vomit on the floor next to him. How he had to drag Eddie into the bathroom and out of his clothes because Nancy had been worried about him and she thought it would be better if Steve checked in. 

In a way, it was. It meant no one else had to find out about him because Steve already knew, and it also meant that Steve was back in his life. 

But Steve’s mad at him. Steve’s mad, and that means he’ll probably call it quits on what they’ve been doing because he’s finally realized Eddie is just as irresponsible as everyone thinks, that he sells drugs and liquor to kids in town and that the kids they’re friends with aren’t excluded from his customer base. 

Steve’s going to break up with him — not that they’re even actually dating — and Eddie feels a tightness in his chest and throat that makes him want to push. Push the boundaries until something snaps. Make sure he does it himself so he doesn’t have to deal with the pain of Steve doing it instead.

“You had to do what, Steve?” Eddie asks. “You had to find me on a bad day? You had to make sure I didn’t brain myself on the bathroom counter? I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry, but the kids aren’t me.” 

“They’ve been through a lot,” Steve mutters. “And they’re too young. We’re supposed to be, like, good role models, and shit. We’re older, they look up to us and we’re not their friends, man. We’re babysitters, we keep them safe.”  

“Let me level with you here, Steve,” Eddie says. “Dustin’s fifteen, right? And you’re twenty. I’ll be twenty-one in three weeks. You know Gareth?”

“I know Gareth,” Steve mutters. 

“Gareth’s sixteen, almost seventeen,” Eddie says. “And he’s my friend. Hell, he’s in my band. I’m not his fucking babysitter. He’s been drinking at Coffin shows since he was, what, like thirteen? What’s the difference?” 

“The difference—”

“No,” Eddie says, cutting him off. “No, there isn’t one because any other time, you’re calling Henderson your friend. It’s just until I make a decision without you that you suddenly have a problem. Fuck off, Harrington.”

Eddie turns to go back to his van. He’s gonna get the beer and march it right up to the front door and then turn and leave. He has to go feed the cat and catch Wayne before he leaves for work. He doesn’t have time for this shit. 

“Excuse me,” Eddie mutters. “I think it’s better if you don’t come over tonight.”

Read more on AO3

[brynnterpretations]

If they had all survived that summer, what would their lives look like 27 years later?

THE BOWERS GANG IN 27 YEARS ☻

Belch Huggins

Twenty-seven years for Belch leads to a comfortable job at Derry Auto. His mother wanted him to go to college, but ultimately, it wasn't affordable — his father had ended up gambling half of the Huggins' savings — so he attended a trade school in Bangor and began working as a mechanic. He lives in his childhood home, taking care of his mother, who unfortunately began succumbing to dementia in 2015. While not yet married due to, quite frankly, not having the time, Belch is enamored with a kind waitress with a sarcastic streak down the road, and is hoping to have a ring for her one day. Overall, it's bittersweet, but he has a lot of hope for the future. He keeps in touch with Henry and Victor, but hasn't spoken to the off-the-grid Patrick since 2001 after he'd crashed at Belch's house when he was running from an ex-fling (probably that Sherry chick from twelfth grade, but he didn't ask any questions, nor did Patrick ever say thank you).

Henry Bowers

If we nix the murder charges and subsequent institutionalization, twenty-seven years for Henry leads to a life on the margins of Derry. Upon his eighteenth birthday, Henry was kicked to the curb by his father, leading to him crashing at Belch's, which was a surprisingly decent dynamic. Still, he struggled with no longer being the top dog of Derry High School, and instead. Like Belch, Henry attended trade school, and became a truck-driver for Sysco. The long hours and lack of sleep led him to become a fervent drinker, and whenever he returned to Derry for the few days he had before his next venture, he'd drink like a fish and end up in jail for the night, covered in his own vomit — by age twenty-five, Henry had eight counts of aggravated assault and ten counts of public intoxication to his name. In 2016, Henry is coping with the complicated feelings of his father's accidental death while drinking on the job by drinking on his job, living in the same apartment complex that Beverly Marsh lived in back in '89. He keeps in contact with Belch and Victor; the last time he'd heard from Patrick was in '92, when Patrick had been on a drug escapade somewhere next to a payphone.

Patrick Hockstetter

Twenty-seven years for Patrick leads to a well-endowed rap sheet. Bored of Derry, nineteen-year-old Patrick stole three-hundred dollars from the Hockstetters' safe and hitched it to Augusta in the car his parents bought for him the year prior. This, of course, led to him becoming a public menace, as would any sociopathic teenager with a fake ID, and he ended up having a criminal record so severe that he was left no choice but to couch-surf around Maine, considering no apartments wanted him as a liability. In the years coming, he never really stayed in one place, bouncing between Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont. In 2016, he's started his own commune in rural Rhode Island (long story), which is very quickly falling apart due to his waning interest in anyone or anything. He doesn't keep in touch with any of the Bowers Gang besides a time in 2001 where he ended up crashing in Belch's to hide from an arson investigation in Van Buren. Belch, the poor son of a bitch, still thinks it was because he was running from a "crazy motherfucking ex". He took a bit of offense to that — he doesn't touch the crazy, he is the crazy.

Victor Criss

In twenty-seven years, Victor has a wife, a cat, and a more-than-cozy job as editor-in-chief for The Portland Press Herald. The only of the Bowers Gang to get into college, Victor spent five years at the University of Southern Maine for a degree in journalism — admittedly, he might've spent too much time hitting the penjamin — and met his future wife there, who he ended up marrying four years later. Though Victor is mostly content with his life, he still is haunted by the things he did in his youth, which has led him to a borderline abuse of sleeping medications to combat the insomnia-inducing memories of what he did as a member of the Bowers Gang. He keeps in contact with Belch and Henry — mostly out of loyalty — having not known what the fuck Patrick has been doing since '92 (outside of running from an ex-lover in 2001?).

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

Everyone(Neuro divergent Writers)

i wanted to share some tips that really helped me with my writers block so hopefully they help someone else who is like me. for the longest time i thought i just forgot how to write but i didn't and i get to see myself improving every day.

this is a pretty long post, its entirely word vomit and i go on a little spiel at the end about ai

Medication.

The biggest and most unexpected thing that helped me was getting medicated for my ADHD. Before taking Adderall, i never thought that my ADHD might be why i was struggling so hard to write and it was the same with everyone else too. Id get family hovering over my shoulder every time i came to them to express my fears about my rapidly declining literacy and writing skill, all saying that if I'm struggling that bad i just need to eat better or go on a walk or get some sunshine, like my brain works like everyone else's.

I was scared at first because id been on Adderall before and it just made me miserable but I'm super determined to continue writing and when i tried it, things started getting better. i found myself actually enjoying my writing process and getting excited to wake up. I'd sit at my desk and write for hours, yeah it would take me a few hours to just write a thousand words but that didn't matter because i was writing.

Changing What I Write On.

I write most of my stuff in google docs, sometimes i dabble with notion but there's too much to customize and i just get carried away. i was reading articles to help improve my basic writing skills because i retained absolutely nothing from school besides one wale fact i learned in science in like grade six and the entire bill nye song.

if you write on a computer or phone, a lot of the times you cant think of something might be because of the blank screen and the flashing cursor. i can come up with a thousand speculations as to why but i know that trying to write on a notebook sometimes makes things go smoother. i know its a hassle transferring that but for lazy writers who don't like reading through their work its actually really helpful for editing.

Changing Where I Write

One of the biggest reasons i gave up on writing was while in school i was a fountain of ideas, constantly writing in my notebook and not paying attention to the teachers.

this is probably the weirdest one but it worked for me. usually i try to find something on youtube like an informative video or a nature documentary, hate all you want but recently i found that asmr works too. find things where there isnt a lot of stuff happening, slow talkers, David Attenborough, one of those roleplay asmr's. hide the video, especially if you have adhd. i found that when i try writing in scilence, i get more bored and overstimulated, and when i write with music too often i get overstimulated. putting on videos like these are a great middle man, its not quiet and the sounds arent too high pitched or repetitive.

ill leave you with a few of the channels i like to use.

penguinz0

theweeklyslap

[ASMR]nara_나라 shes a korean youtuber, i like putting their k-pop idol make up roleplays on. they speak korean and its really nice to put on in the background when im brainstorming ideas.

Tingting ASMR another really good youtuber, they make a lot of roleplay videos, some of my favorites are the videos with the wigs. they have a wide variety of videos so its easy to jut click play all and not get overstimulated or annoyed.

Stimuli

things like pressure or fidget toys. i absolutely can not wright unless i have my headphones on, it doesnt matter what i try or if i do something else that usually works, unless i have my headphones i cant do anything.

i personally like hyperX cloud II, i have the wireless ones. theyre light and they have a long lasting battery. theyre on the more expensive side so i apologize but they are worth every penny.

i also sort of like MOVSSOU but i dont use them a lot, they're a Bluetooth headset with a noise cancelling feature that i like to have when i sleep, but i like the pressure, i just dont like the roundness the over ear speakers have. these are still a little expensive but not as bad as the other ones.

i also found that wearing pants inhibits my writing process, as weird as it sounds, its really comfortable to just lounge and write in my underwear.

i know its different for everybody but for neuro divergent people the little things matter the most. pay attention to what you do when you wright; what time of day do you usually write in, where do you write at, what are you wearing, what are you looking at, did you eat, did you shower before. if you need to write these things down and experiment; try writing at a different time, try writing in different clothes or in no clothes. don't be embarrassed about what helps you, as long as you're not hurting yourself or other people it should be completely fine.

Drafts

like a complete moron i forgot about drafting. i didn't really forget, it just seemed pointless, i wasn't writing much so what's the point.

there is a point and its a life changer.

for some people writing is hard or it can become a burden or a chore, especially for people who share their works because theres a lot of pressure. you can say you dont care and you might not but you have to admit its a little daunting trying to figure out if your sentence is legible or not.

next time you write, i want you to stop thinking about everything else. all that matters right now is getting your thoughts on the page, fuck grammar, fuck spelling, it doesnt matter.

how do you write? do you picture the scenario? to the words just come to you? do that. if you picture things when you write just sit back and watch it like a movie, type what you see. don't worry about realism, don't worry whether or not your character has four limbs. just write what comes into your head and when your done take a break. get up and walk around, drink water, eat a snack, move away from your computer or notebook or whatever else and take a breather. when you come back read it out loud, shout it, murmur it, it doesn't matter. edit as you go, if something doesn't sound right rewrite it, if you stumble over your words try to simplify your sentence.

outside help

i really struggle with this because i dont have anyone im confident in sharing this stuff with but if you do ask for help proofreading.

if you're like me and you don't try ai. don't rely on it to do everything for you, that's lazy and youre not really writing.

use it to help simplify your run on sentences or help with grammar, if theres a sentence in your story that needs to be changed but youre blanking get an ai to help rework it.

especially if you struggle with ideas and need help, roleplaying with bots is also a good way to help get ideas organized and help visualize a situation. i know a while ago when i was struggling with feeling pressured and the stress that i felt like i was carrying the brunt of everything and i used character ai to help me visualize ideas and work out storylines i had no idea how to put into words or continue.

especially in areas where im really weak in, like plots and story pllans, ai is really good to help get your jumbled ideas out when you dont have another person to rely on for assistance. not only that but their messages are concise and organized and its less overwhelming sorting through the information.

ive been using

Creative_WritingsE on poe.ai to help me write the story guide and plot lines for the sanji fic im working on.

and i just started playing around with sudowrite to help me edit my drafts and help with my awful grammar and punctuation.

but please remember to be conscious when using ai, if its for writing or drawing. people work hard to develop these skills and get to where they are today and when people come along calling themselves artists or authors when all they did was pay for a program and type a few words into a box that most likely stole work from other people, it feels degrading.

imagine you're in school and you were assigned a project that you are really passionate about and you work really hard on, pouring over it tirelessly. not just for the grade but because its something you genuinely like and it makes you happy. then when you go into school the next day you find out one of your classmates snuck photos of your project and all they did was change how it looked but nothing else and they get the recognition for it. it feels shitty and honestly it takes the joy out of doing the thing you love.

[toastedwrittenthoughts]

OKAY! I have been stressing about these titles all day and I need to say a few things about them.

Spoilers for the titles the rest is pure speculations and predictions!

Episode 9!

Okay... So to start my predictions, I have to mention where we were left at the end of Episode 8...

BOTH Buddy and Richie were arrested and are in Jail.

Jane was scolded for being indecisive about what she wants.

Olivia walked into Mr. Daniels house without her PL Jacket (cue aggressive vomiting noises).

Nancy was left to clean up the mess and looking broken. (Like the window. Symbolism!)

Cynthia probably feeling multiple conflicting internal feelings. (As she should.)

So here we go...

I would want the episode to start with a dark screen... the sound of a cell door closing and amongst several cells they pan over and inside one of them is Buddy and Richie. Not together, but separated...? Its like the saying "put them in a room alone together and let things sort itself out." I'd hope that its been a little while and Buddy has sobered up some but regardless, the two of them just sending scathing looks between eachother after maybe getting in a few actual hits against eachother. (Poor Dot)

Both of them showing signs of discomfort because they're still kids, IN JAIL. But out of the two of them, Richie is a little better at keeping his cool. After all, he's used to detention, fights and breaking rules. I know its not the same, but if anything... Id be willing to bet that in this situation, the other potential 'jail occupants' kinda look like him.. People from the 'wrong parts of town'. Kind recognizes kind. The other occupants hear Buddy's last name and start digging at him and his dad and Richie tells them to back off. Again, kind recognizes kind and they leave them alone. Buddy gives a halfhearted 'thanks' and Richie just shrugs.

Buddy would be pacing, no doubt muttering about how his dad was going to react about all this when he comes to get him. Richie is probably terrified at how his parents will react and coming from a European household.. Phew.. It ain't gonna be pretty. Richie would scoff, telling him to be quiet, that 'they wouldn't be here if Buddy hadn't been drunk and acting like an ass. Or if he had just come clean from the start."

"I didn't mean too. It just happened and.." Buddy's head would hang down, looking ashamed. Richie feels bad for him for just a second before Buddy finish with "I never wanted to hurt her, you know. I loved her. I still do."

That I could see would send Richie over an edge. He stands up and even with their height difference would level Buddy with a dead stare.

"That's. Not. Love. You don't let someone spread damning gossip around about someone you "love" and not clear it up because your worried about your own reputation. You don't take advantage of them and say you love them. Its not to be used as an excuse or reason why you think its okay to be an asshole." (Personal thoughts mixed in here.)

"What do you know about about it, Richie? You've never had your parents pressure you to be the best. And then to find out that what you are, what you thought you were, is only a fake image that wasn't even made by yourself. Jane was the only thing that was.. real to me. I mean.. really real."

"And instead of treating her like she deserves, even after you found out about the election and shit, you thought of just yourself and let her get buried." Richie scoffs and shakes his head. "Look Buddy, I may not have been born and raised on your side of town, I may not have been pushed to be the best because no one expects me to be; but we can both agree that Jane makes us want to be better. But if your dad is the one that's trying to mold your life in a way you don't want it to be, then maybe you need to take the wheel and go where his reputation hasn't reached and make your own."

Or something like that. Either way, I would want them to verbally have it out. And IF Buddy's dad comes to bail him out, because reputation and shit... Id want Buddy to look back at Richie in the cell and tell his dad that 'Richie wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me. Either we both go, or I don't at all." Buddy's dad sees that he doesn't budge and agrees. I like to hope that between Buddy and Richie, they aren't even, but it would be a damn good start.

Jane is going to do some repair work and I get the feeling that she will be one of a few people who will ask the question "You're dropping out of Rydell?" And potentially for a few people.

Nancy could get the urge to leave because of her fashion calling and the fact that the Pink Ladies are up in the air but is worried that because of her crush, she will lose sight of what she really wants to do and is tempted to just go. But instead of pulling a Frenchy, she stays.. I don't know how, but that's the feeling I get. (Like have your cake and eat it too.)

Olivia could think about leaving/dropping out to another school so she moves forward with Mr. Daniels (at his mentioning's or insistence) and to not 'jeopardize' his career, marry him but like in secret. Gil could hear word about this and HAULS ASS to find her and convinces her that she is worth more than that, that she is worth loving out loud and proud. Like He does. Something about the way Mr. Daniels acts around her now could make her feel uncomfortable and together, they go to McGee and get his predator ass fired. Done.

Cynthia would be torn about where she fits and after some agonizing, thinks she should leave and changes her mind when she gets her TBird jacket. And starts making things better by apologizing to Shy Guy because HE IS SWEET AND DESERVES AN APOLOGY!

Mrs. McGee could ask that to the Principle who is leaving because he got a different job opportunity and puts her in charge. Or Mr. Daniels because he also needs to go. (Im hopeful)

Over All...

I think Buddy will be the one to leave. Personally to me, it would make sense. Not because it would take him out of the whole Buddy/Jane/Richie triangle, though I would not be upset about that at all. (Richie is my boy and doesn't need to go, I will die on that hill). But from a realistic point of view... If I wanted to get out from my meddling fathers shadow, and I would after hearing everything he has done, I would say that leaving Rydell to go to another school to restart would be the way to go. Somewhere his father would have little to no influence over and he could start anew. It would also kinda go with Buddy's character since when the opportunity to fix things come up, he kinda detours and takes a road to avoid them and only comes clean when they fall all but at his feet and he's in a corner. (Frosty Palace.)

Episode 10.

Since I am unclear about the school timeline right now (like is it nearly thanksgiving for them as students? Is the year halfway done?) I would like to think that they have a fall fair or something. If my predictions are correct, Buddy will leave Rydell at the end of their first semester. But before they go, they gotta race.

Susan I think will race one of the Ladies, most likely Olivia because she looked MAD in both the trailer and pictures and Olivia would be the focal point of that anger.. Dot will be their flag girl because she supports Susan and the gangs will cheer for them as they race. Susan could lose because they need to bury their hatchet somehow. And with the Win, Olivia gets a car, and therefore the Pink Ladies get their own ride. Susan admits defeat, apologizes and like Buddy with Richie, isn't making them even, but it could be a place to start.

I still think Gil's gonna race, I almost say he needs to just for the classic victory (first) kiss between him and Olivia. (Fingers tightly crossed.)

But one thing I was saying when a friend of mine and I were in a debate was that there was talk about the title having two meanings. 'Racing For Pinks.'

Pinks is the Pink Ownership slip but it could also mean the Pink Ladies. Buddy/ Richie, Gil and Mr. Daniels (though I doubt it) and such. They could win the girl. And I gotta say both yes and no to this thought. One thing that I would want to be said, whether it be the TBirds, the Pink Ladies themselves or hell, why not both is that they can't be 'won'.

To be with a Pink Lady isn't part of some... game. You cant race and get a girl, I'm sorry but that to me just wouldn't be right. These girls are breaking norms and fighting the system, breaking stereotypical boundaries. Cynthia says that to have two people race for you is AMUSING. At the risk of sounding two faced, they aren't trophies to be won but.. they kinda are. But they cant be bought or traded.

No, the Pink Ladies are EARNED. Period.

The TBird and Pink Ladies alike EARN their jackets and reputation, so why shouldn't their affection (love, devotion, romance, relationship take your pick) be any different? You put in work, you get the girl. And so far, I think that some have. While others are still working things out.

We also haven't met the Scorpions, the rival gangs of the TBirds in OG Grease. Or Zuko and Kenickie for that matter. And if anyone reads my long posts, that's where the 'scenes' I think up could go here with Richie and Gil meeting them..

But if I follow my gut, I think that if Buddy leaves, he could go to a different school, start up the Scorpions because he's acting out against his dad and the beef between the Birds and Scorpions is pre-established for the future.

Regardless of how things go... JOIN ME IN HOPING FOR A SEASON TWO!

Again, this is a mixture of spoilers, speculations and predictions! Id love to hear yours! Comment or message me directly the door is always open!

[z0mbies]

ill probably end up cracking and unloading word vomit abt my delusions soon though bc its ALWAYS like that. says id like to do something vulnerable but probably won't then you can't get me to stfu abt it.

[irlbkgs]

💖🎃🧸 for the ask game? with any f/os you wanna talk about !! :]

💖 - what's the nicest compliment they've ever given you? what's the nicest compliment you've ever given them?

adrian: sooo he kind of word vomits all the time which means a lot of his compliments are just like. jumbles of words that don't really make sense. that being said because he does word vomit a lot and he's naturally very affectionate that means there's like. no end to the compliments even if they're really simple or dumb. i think probably the nicest compliment he's given me was probably saying for how often i act stupid im actually not and he appreciates that at least at times i can help him with things he has little to no experience with. even if he's older he's still got things he knows nothing about.

as for nicest compliment ive given him its really hard to say because im not much of the type to compliment, it either makes me feel really shy or like i dont know if the words im using are right so i just Dont. but i def try more with my partners bc ik its unfair to never compliment them, especially in adrian's case bc he does it all the time. i try to give him little ones just on his appearance and stuff but i think the one he probably appreciated most was just me telling him he's fucking fantastic at dnd. like dming or playing a character, he's great at roleplaying and voices and coming up with things to move the plot along and memorizing actions and spells etc etc. im fucking dogshit at all of it so its like watching the grandmaster of nerd shit do his thing and not break a sweat. very cute but also very impressive.

daryl: now for daryl, we're both on the same page with compliments. he doesn't know how to choose the right words and he isnt very good with emotional stuff so his compliments mostly consist of "you look pretty" if i dress up or "good job" whenever that's applicable. one of the compliments that he's given me that rly stuck out tho was literally just him appreciating me being patient with him bc i wouldn't consider myself a patient person in general but when it comes to emotional stuff i try to give him as much grace as possible bc i also want some myself. we're both super stunted in that department so i try to be lenient lol

nicest compliment ive given him is probably in a similar vein, ive thanked him at least a couple times for taking care of me bc he really doesnt have to but its something that really feels special to me bc i cant remember the last time ive had somebody actually do that for me. actions speak louder than words for me as well so simple shit like letting me get extra rest, cooking and cleaning up make me just as happy as a compliment.

🎃 - have you guys ever carved pumpkins together? do you visit a pumpkin patch, or buy one from the store? or maybe you grew it? what would your pumpkins look like?

adding billy to this one bc its halloween stuff lul

billy: obviously he's a big halloween guy but funnily enough i wasnt allowed to celebrate halloween growing up for religious reasons so stuff like carving pumpkins feels special but also very tedious to me bc there's zero nostalgia and i dont think billy would care much for that specific tradition either. i might drag him out to the patch to pick out some pumpkins for decoration but carving isnt likely to happen. apple picking however...he complains but he helps bc if he doesnt he gets no pie :>

if we did carve, his design would be way more detailed and better looking than mine. itd be like contest worthy. id just do one of those store bought designs and somehow butcher it anyways.

adrian: he is big on carving pumpkins!! but bad at it!! just as bad as me so its a lot of throwing guts at each other and then ruining our pumpkins so bad we cant even display them. we'd roast the seeds for a snack tho :3

daryl: we would not be doing allat but we would (if we could) watch some movies. im thinking alexandria era us would involve a lot of picking up any movies we find on runs and just watching anything we have, even if it has nothing to do with halloween. if we did have halloween movies, daryl would fucking haaaate my picks but deal with it bc he looooves me and id hate his too so its okay. he's def more of a serious horror fan whereas i like horror comedy.

🧸 - it's valentine's day! what stereotypical valentine's day gift does your f/o give you? a box of chocolates, perhaps a stuffed animal?

billy: at best, jewelry, maybe some plain little silver chain with his initial (possessive much?) but besides that i think he wouldn't go with a classic gift. he'd get movies, merch, knives, but roses? stuffies? god no. and i don't even like chocolate so that's def out of the question.

adrian: flowers for sureeee and possibly a stuffie if he was feeling extra. he'd get flowers with my favorite colors (pink and green) but he'd make sure they didn't mean anything bad before he got em bc he's slightly superstitious. stuffie would be of the hello kitty or skelanimals variety.

daryl: also probably wouldn't do a classic gift, but is again partial to jewelry. it would be nothing fancy, just a bracelet, but it would be handmade which would make it way more special. he'd get help from carol who probably learned to do stuff like that with sofia.

[007-nightfire-yakuza-agent]

the all pervading nausea makes it hard to think, hard to focus, hard to really do anything. it takes over your body n then it takes your mind too. robs you of sleep, food, basically sets you up to feel like shiiiittttt. its like this kind of purgatory except i have a vague idea of when it might end. but yes rn im so over it. id love to post abt other things but probably the biggest thing in my life rn is trying not to vomit at work ✌️

[bellysoupset]

bruh ok so we all love vomit, thats made itself clear. but what abt cute little sneezy colds that knocks someone on their ass? (id love to see vince with one of those (i love vince in general he's so skrinsy skrunk, this is total bias)(but realistically, anyone) i remember a few years ago i had a cold so bad it was like. i couldnt sleep bc i couldn't BREATHE my nose was so blocked up. and i just sat there crying all night, and felt so sick that i actually ended up puking from it. like. puking from a COLD (given, it was probably taking meds without eating first but, nonetheless) honestly puking made me feel a lot better, even nose and throat, bc it was just so fucking coated in mucus and it got rid of it and i could actually BREATHE (for like 3 minutes) after puking

just saying, people who are prone to REALLY bad colds 👀👀👀🤭🤭🤭😝😝😝😝

awww Clear that sounds so damn miserable. Colds fuck with me too, I can take any discomfort, but not being able to breathe makes my panicky side kick in.

I looove writing sickfics in general tbh. Of course, emeto is my MVP, but I'd write other sickfics too! Just a little more sparingly. I also love whump in general, so I'd write some of that! (such a bummer that broken bones take ages to heal tho, you can only break a character so much)

[josecariohca]

hello, I hope you're well. I live for hetalia and was rec'd to ask about your pirate au! I would love to hear about it if you'd like to tell :)

my first day on tumblr in what feels like a week and i come back to a question that makes me want to ramble like a madman for DAYS. you are so sweet for sending this to me (and im sorry if this ends up being an essay you were not asking for). fun fact: i have had to rewrite my answer to this ask no less than 3 times bc every time i started talking, id go on a tangent about pirates that was in no way relevant to your ask. apologies for taking so long, but yes! here we go! im putting it under a read more bc i cannot for the life of me shut the fuck up.

i do have a pirate au!! maybe one day it will eventually end up seeing the light of day, but as of right now it is sitting in my google docs next to a 95-page doc of all the sources and fun facts and tidbits that i find interesting about pirates. pirates are kinda my thing, idk if thats obvious or not. insert marge simpson i just think theyre neat meme here.

essentially, its pirate!antonio and venetian-not-quite-nobleman!lovino. im still playing around with that venetian part, but idk ill probably keep it, since it makes sense with lovino's family and all that. the entire premise of the story (and what sparked the idea in the first place, apart from me just thinking antonio would look sexy in a pirate captain fit) is that one scene in the strips where romano is reading a history book about how spain spent a ton of money on him when he himself was in rags. we all know spain canonically showered romano in wealth and money, even when he himself was wearing tatters. that idea sat with me for YEARS before i decided to do my own spin on it, culminating in the characters of pirate captain antonio with a grudge against the world and too much to prove seeing bastard lovino who lives in a family of nobles and cannot have any of it, even if he is loved and adored by his family, and who just doesn't????? understand him????? doesnt get why he chose to stay with that family for so long????? without leaving that world behind and being free and cutting himself loose????? he doesnt get the familial attachments and the sense of responsibility lovino has to his family, even if he cannot and will not inherit the title that comes with the vargas name.

antonio ends up raiding their merchant ship they were sailing on and kidnapping him for money or something idk im still playing around with that part, and lovino is just this absolute mystery to him, but ofc this is antonio who is bullheaded in his stubbornness, which i find to be enchanting and cute, and thus we slowly get into the love story of two people who were fucked over tremendously by their societies and their worlds and who just wanted and tbh deserved more, something different, a freedom they would never be able to have in their average life.

smash-cut to however long later and the entire basis of the story is lovino 'i am surrounded by status and wealth and prestige and will have none of it to my name' vargas being adored and cherished by antonio 'love me and i will give you the world, love me and i will give you everything' fernández carriedo. bc!! i!!! think!!! thats!!! neat!!!!

anyway yeah thats kinda where the idea for it came from. i have a few spamano stories written, but i am shamefully lacking any historical hetalia, which is terrible considering history is my entire degree, but im getting there. i hope this in some way answered your ask!!! youre welcome to also hit up my asks or dms if you ever wanna just chat hetalia or anything else, since i too live for this wretched fandom, and have since i was like. idk 12. thank you so much for sending this! i love having an excuse to word vomit about my hyperfixations, and this story has been bouncing in my brain for a frankly disgusting amount of time, and i have only recently decided to put it to paper and make something out of it!

[queenofbaws]

Is this a prompt or is this just me blabbing nonsense words as I spew vast amounts of word vomit into your inbox? Who knows! All I know is that I've apparently decided that I needed to share this with someone, and that (un)lucky someone is you lol.

Anyways, for some reason I can't stop thinking about trash trio sleepovers. But not the events that take place during the sleepovers, just that little bit when they've all gotten into bed at the end of a busy night and are actually trying to go to sleep.

Specifically, those all too rare nights when Josh is actually the first to fall asleep, leaving Chris and Ashley as the two still awake. And I just feel like on those nights, they spend a frankly insane amount of hours forcing themselves to stay awake as they just talk. Bundled up under borrowed blankets and thankful for the darkness of whatever bedroom or livingroom they've crashed in for the night hiding tired yet utterly besotted smiles and completely enamored faces as they do their best to stay quiet so they don't wake anyone up, even as they can't stop giggling and laughing every couple of minutes. Just, like, taking about everything and nothing as they both selfishly not allow the other to go to bed, not wanting to put a stop to these oh so rare moments when it's quiet and soft and private. It's just *them*.

So they can't help but stay up way too late, until the point hits where they're both so overtired that their once carefully constructed and guarded filter starts to crumble and one or both of them is like seconds away from blurting out 'so I think I'm maybe in love with you.'

I've also decided that this is probably the closest that either of them get to actually saying anything about it, and yet it happens more often than either would like lmao. Like they probably get out the first couple of words before their brain finally catches up to their mouth and then they're making flustered and mortified excuses/realizations about how it's like 5 in the morning or something so they should definitely absolutely go to bed as they roll over and end whatever conversation they were having abruptly and seemingly out of nowhere lol.

And yet, when they get up grouchy and grumpy in the morning, you know that neither of them regret even a single hour of it 💖

(i am very sorry about this word vomit you are about to wake up to lol. Haven't been able to stop thinking of this for weeks cause I love how warm and gushy it makes me feel fhdkskdhdkshd)

There were a lot of downsides to Josh being a heavy sleeper - and 'a lot' meant a lot, the list running the gamut from the relatively harmless (e.g., having to find a way to wrestle your arm out from under his dead weight if you made the mistake of falling asleep in his general vicinity) to the downright torturous (e.g., the snoring) - but as the prince of horror taketh, so too did he giveth, at least in a sense.

Him being able to sleep through a mass extinction event meant they only had to pretend to whisper.

"It's really not all it's cracked up to be, y'know," Chris said, was saying, had been saying, the conversation about college life having long-since turned into something else by virtue of how many times they'd circled around it, turning it over and over again like a craggled rock thrown into a polisher until it became smooth, "I mean, don't get me wrong...there's a certain kind of beauty to just having to swipe your ID at the dining halls and not having anyone raise an eyebrow when you say, like, 'Why yes I do think I'll be having another burrito for breakfast, my good sir,' but...eh, sometimes I wish I was still here."

In the half-light of the basement, only the ambient glow of entertainment center lights there to cast a bluish cast about the place, he couldn't see Ashley so much as imagine her there, a faint rustle from the couch suggesting she'd rolled over or tugged her blanket up. "Awww," she teased, "sounds like someone's homesick, huh?"

That was one word for it, he guessed, though it wasn't quite the right one; neither was it the wrong one, it just...it was too vague, too open, too, too, too nonspecific, because 'homesick' meant you were missing home, but did it mean the same thing when the home you were missing was a person and not a place?

"Or maybe I just don't know how to function when you're not around to roll your eyes at me, you ever think of that?" he asked, and he smiled when she laughed, Chris did (because that, in a way, was its own sort of home, and another one he'd been sick for, if he was being honest), but he wished he could find courage enough in that darkness to admit aloud to her that he hadn't been joking at all - not even a little bit.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[breeeliss]

[The Locked Tomb]: can we start over?

@tlt-holiday-exchange authors have been revealed \o/ and of course I ended up with a college au lol. if you like “ex-girlfriend antics” and palamedes being in an overly supportive older brother dynamic with harrow, look no further :P 

title: can we start over? pairing: griddlehark (gideon x harrowhark) rating: teen (mostly for gideon’s mouth)  summary: Gideon needs a tutor. Harrow needs someone to get her out of college gym class. All in all, a pretty straightforward arrangement to make with your ex. link to ao3: [ao3]

-

//can we start over? 

Gideon clocked into her front desk shift and slapped her recent physics quiz in front of her coworker. “I am so fantabulously, royally fucked.”

Camilla wordlessly grabbed a freshman’s school ID to scan them into the athletics building as she flipped through Gideon’s quiz. “Was this out of 20 points? It’s not terrible …”

“It was out of 100.”

“Oh.”

Gideon flopped into the chair next to Camilla and let the office phone ring off the hook while she banged her forehead against the table. “I am like…actually going to projectile vomit. All these quizzes are twenty percent of my grade. And I have a test in three weeks.”

“What’s more impressive is the fact that had you just randomly guessed the whole time, you should’ve gotten a higher grade. You somehow defied basic probability.”

“Uggghhhh, shut up shut up, I know!”

“This is worse than the last one.”

“I know.”

“And you drew a pair of tits as your answer to your short response, because…?”

“Because I gave up and I needed something pretty to look at for the last fifteen minutes. Sue me.”

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