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#another song fic
shidousprincess · 6 months
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I have the need to write another fic on “I don’t love you” by My Chemical Romance but not entirely sure who I’ll just have to see what my brain comes up with ‼️ but fandom wise I was thinking jjk or op so yet again I’ll let you guys choose
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nhothicket · 2 months
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@kojitheopossum 's siren au has been rent free in my mind <3
I don't think this is what they mean by wet dream, Bdubs
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twinleafsystem · 3 months
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id rather be safe than sorry! ^^ (and sorry for all ive done…)
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walmart-miku · 11 months
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ok people we gotta stop making mori the source of all evil with soukoku. Yes mori is evil about how he treated yosano and a lot of the pm members but that's a whole other can of worms.
Anyways with skk MORI WOULD NOT TRY TO GET IN THEIR WAY IN FACT HE WOULD ENCOURAGE THEIR ASSES TO GET TOGETHER THIS PANEL EXISTS FOR A REASON.
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MORI SHIPS THEM SO BAD ITS ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS.
Fics need to stop making this dude try to prevent skk from dating. I want a crack fic where mori is just like "Hey how was ur day do u like to kiss guys?" To both dazai and chuuya. I want mori shenanigans where he's actively trying so hard to set them up and Elise is sitting in a corner with kouyou and they're hard core judging him.
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sysig · 4 months
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You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.
Starring Role (Patreon)
#My art#ISaT#ISaT Spoilers#Siffrin#Loop#Technically - you know how it goes#Me when I relate to Siffrin: Oh no haha that's probably not great whoops haha#Me when I relate to Loop: Oh. Oh No.#Lenti has such a deathgrip on my ISaT opinions wtf how is she so powerful I thought my fave was Sif?? But I mean well-#Lol#Does this count as vent idk lol#It was fun to write tho :) Very easy! Done all at once!#As was drawing this! Also done all at once! And black and white is still really fun to work with hehe#I got to use some pretty cool outline/lineart tricks for this one yay :D#The original draft of the fic had a different title but ''Starring Role'' is kinda?? too perfect???#To the point where I looked around and I was like#Kinda shocked that there doesn't Seem? to be another fic with the same title?#Which is.........oddly relevantly thematic to this fic actually hahaha#Not to get too exacting about it but the whole thing of Loop feeling replaceable well#It would imply that other someones could do what they do better than them#What an odd refutation. Huh. Weird#Anyway - behind the scenes fun fact!#I actually really love the song Starring Role but I didn't think of it until after writing this#And now that I sing it to myself it's actually kinda perfect what the heck#So that's something to think about as well#Anyway if you're going to listen to it pls listen to the Axiom remix it is The version in my heart <3#The glitches and stutters are perfect.....#And the clock ticking?? Why is this song so ISaT I'm gonna think about this for a while now heck#Animatic in my head shower thought -core lol
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vlasdygoth · 3 months
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think i'm gonna call it off
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avis-writeshq · 7 months
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your friendly reminder that spencer reid will listen to any music you want. if he’s in your car and you want to play taylor swift, he’ll listen to it with no complaints. if you want to listen to olivia rodrigo and blast it all over the house, he’ll turn it up even louder. if you want to listen to kpop music, he’ll translate them for you and tell you what they mean after.
he’s not going to hate on your music if you don’t hate on his.
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mothsparksghost · 2 months
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"He Taught Me That the Hand That Feeds Deserves to be Bitten When it Beats"
-The Hand That Feeds By The Crane Wives
Alternatively!
Corporate Greed Strikes Again
TWs: Corporate Greed, Kidnapping, Human Experimentation, Torture, Violence, Blood, starvation
Danny was running away, it was getting to dangerous in Amity for him to stay. There were new rogues every other day getting more and more powerful as they popped up. The GIW had gotten even more competent in their weapons making, but not in their situational awareness. Just the last week, he had gotten shot at least seven times keeping civilians safe.
For the safety of everyone in Amity, it was bet for him to leave.
For good.
So he packed a bag, made sure there were no current loose ghost, made sure no one was inside Fenton Works, and then promptly blew up the portal with a modified ghost shield to keep the damage to a minimum. Unlike others, he was well aware of where people were and how the could be killed.
So now that everyone thought him dead, he ran. To where? He didn't know. But he needed a pit stop somewhere to get some food. Danny landed on the roof of a building reaching for a map he had stored somewhere in his bag. Shuffling things around he couldn't seem to find it.
"Damn, must've dropped it," Danny muttered. Turning, he only got a second to look at the blur coming for him, but then Danny only knew darkness.
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Danny runs away when theres more and more causalities in Amity. He blew up Fenton Works while inside to make it seem like he died, and to those that did know about Phantom, dead dead.
He makes pit stops, and at one point accidentally cuts himself as Phantom and leaves not knowing there was ecto left behind.
A scientist about to get fired from some big corp trying to get green/clean energy stumbles upon it, and thinks its his big break.
Soon he had the entire company board on board with his idea, no matter that it could be breaking meta laws and could get them all life in prison.
The hunt for the unsuspecting meta, one Danny Phantom, was on.
And then when the bounty hunters, somehow getting their hands on ecto weapons (Maybe the GIW donated them? Maybe they had commissioned them from the Fentons? who knows) get a ping of his location? They sent their best hunter and got poor Danny.
Danny soon wakes up and realizes that "Oh no, where am I?!"
He soon learns that is the least of his worries.
Danny is then tortured, and the people soon realize he has a human side, so they quickly modify the ghost chains to make sure he stays a ghost.
He then Bites a guard and is then muzzled.
The Big Corp soon starts draining him of his ecto while trying to figure out how his body produces it
After all, he who controls the supply controls the market
So while Danny can't turn back into a human, in a low ecto rich environment, and constantly being drained of what fuels his ghostly body, he begins to feel the effects of starvation, because "Ghost are dead, they don't need human shit." and quote.
Well Danny was a special lil halfa and needed food in order to fucking survive
Soon, his hazmat suit starts to become baggy, not fitting anymore and it slowly progress until his eyes start to become clear, becoming the pure ecto green of his flesh in blindness, his bodies way of trying to conserve enough energy until he can get out.
The scientist, seeing the green eyes immediately rip one out, wanting to see if his eyes had a more concentrated ecto that they could use. They quickly learn, no, its clear and has little to no ecto.
Danny's voice has stopped working a long time ago at this point.
The Bats then notice a once failing Clean energy company suddenly thrive.
They investigate and are disturbed to realize that they are using a purified Lazarus water as the main fuel.
They then hunt down the source building and sneak into it, trying to find the source
Bruce is then distracted, going down a heavily guarded hallway unnoticed.
He opens what could only be a vault door, then peering through a black netting with a green sheen, he see's Danny.
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What happens after that? Idk but if someone wants to pick up they can :D
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Tbh its been a hot min since ive actually drawn smth so im a lil out of practice lol.
Anyways i wanna thank the besties (gender neutral) in the Batphantom Club House discord for giving me songs to put on the list 🤗
I needed smth to make the brain worms go brr and so im making my way through the list.
The songs on the list help me catch a prompt for a drawing, and, well a prompt lmao, whether its the lyrics or the rhythm or overall vibes lol.
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kentolove · 1 year
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“Darling, the rest of my body, it's yours”
— ‘The Place Where He Inserted The Blade’ by Black Country, New Road
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He’s greedy.
Tsukishima has always known this. He yearns for power. On the court, his mind calculated each step to guarantee his success. His harsh words are perfectly curated and laced with poison.
He has always known that he is selfish.
His self-serving lifestyle, however, has never been applicable to you.
He gives you so much and hopes you take, take, take, until there is nothing more left. He shines for you and hopes that you bloom into something so magical. He loves you.
A lot more than you thought, apparently.
You stare at the velvety box in your hands. It’s so beautiful, so soft, and so expensive that you wonder whether the two of you can really afford what’s inside.
You think back to all the nights spent hungry in your little run down apartment. How you’d hold each other, promising a future filled with a stable two-story house and a belly full of food. Your mind runs to all those petty arguments started in the name of struggle and how many things you sacrificed to be where you are.
Your eyes water at the future that this small box holds.
You never meant to find it. It was innocence, really. Your hands wandered to his side of his closet, memories flooding in at every touch of fabric. The shirt he wore on your first date. His favorite sweater—now covered in moth holes and stains of love. His high-school volleyball jersey, one that promised a brighter future than the one he lives in. The grey suit he wore on the day he met your parents.
Your hands linger on the soft fabric, slowly removing it from its hanger. It reminds you of shy smiles, uncharacteristic stutters, and young, innocent love. A time when Tsukishima's pride was almost suffocating, but when faced with your father, he was reduced to a quiet, love-stricken boy.
You hold the suit jacket close to your chest—up until you feel something in the pockets.
And that is what leads to you now—teary-eyed and calling so urgently for your lover.
"Kei?" You cry. Your voice is low and weak but he hears you. He always does.
His feet make their way over to you, finding you hunched up on the bedroom floor.
"Hey, what's wrong—" his words cut off as soon as he sees the small box in your hands. "Fuck."
You look up at him and Tsukishima feels like he's fallen all over again. "Is this mine?" You so kindly ask.
"Yeah. You weren't meant to find it, though."
He's soon at your level, thumbs rubbing away all the tears from your eyes. They fall and they fall until Tsukishima finally relents.
"I love you," you say. You drop both the box and his suit, your arms wrapped tightly around him.
He breathes out in relief. "I love you. A lot more."
You don't fight it. You let him hold you as you think about a forever with him.
"This isn't my proposal," he starts, "and fuck you for ruining the surprise."
He's greedy. Selfish and mean. But he is also your Kei. He'll make you his, for he is already yours.
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The Conversation
Final Part of The Interview [Part One] [Part Two] [Ao3]
Steve finishes putting on his boots, shoves a beanie on his head, and grabs his thermos of coffee before heading outside. Robin had texted when they left Pendleton so they should be arriving soon, and he wants to make sure the dogs stay clear of the driveway, and also finish some of the chores he is being lazy about. The mountain air is cold in February, and the snow is deep, but it's still warm for a winter day in Eastern Oregon.
His childhood house had been at the edge of a little forest. His current home is tucked away in the woods, trees for miles, and the nearest neighbor farther still than that. He's lived a lot of places, been able to see the whole of America almost, and in the process, he's learned that he'll always be a small-town boy. The real revelation is how at home he feels in this two-bedroom cabin sequestered away from any town at all. Sure, he's got to drive a little over half an hour to get to the nearest grocery store, but he's learned he likes that.
He's got 1600 acres of woods all to himself and the dogs. He's owned this property for almost four years, but recent events made him finally move out here. Originally, he'd bought it to make it as another flip project, but something in his gut told him to make it a vacation home / safe haven for his family instead. Robin, mainly, as a getaway from the LA life and overwhelming spotlight she'd started to face as her music career took off. He might be turning it into his permanent home and base of operations, but everyone knows they're still welcome.
Anyway, the day might be warm for winter, but the night won't be, so Steve sets his thermos on the top of the wooden railing of the porch and heads down the steps to the woodshed. The plan in the summer is to update the cabin, which includes adding central air and a good heating system, but until then, portable heaters are in the bedrooms and the wood stove gets the rest of the cabin. There's also plans to start the construction on the guest house. It's going to be a busy summer.
He replenishes the woodpile on the porch from the woodshed and debates chopping more but decides against it. That can be a tomorrow chore. Next is cleaning up the snow paths he's made previously. Doesn't want anyone falling on their ass on the way to the house, no matter how funny that'll be to watch. As usual, Pancake makes the task difficult because she wants to play with the snow shovel. Melody cries until he throws snow into the air by the shovel full for her to play in. Chowder, old man that he is, supervises from the porch, front paws hanging just off the top step.
It's rough going but he manages to complete the few chores, even with two dogs underfoot.
Steve is on the front porch, forearms holding his weight as he leans against the railing, thermos of coffee between his hands, taking in the afternoon sun and enjoying the silence when Dustin's work truck slides into the driveway. Almost literally, given the foot and a half of snow still on the ground. The driveway is long, okay. Steve's doesn't have enough time in his day to keep up with salting it all.
It'll be strange to see Eddie after all these years. He still can't believe Robin got him to come. When he'd asked how she did it, she brushed him off with an it's not important.
Speaking of Robin, she's the first person out of the truck, sliding out of the passenger seat and then cursing when she drops right into the snow. She shoots an accusatory look towards the cabin, and therefore Steve, like he placed the snow there himself, when the fault is Dustin, who has left the driver side with plenty of room between the truck and the snowbank.
Dustin gets out of the truck and Steve faintly hears him say this side, man, less snow before pushing his door closed and turning to brace himself as Pancake and Melody rush from the porch to circle like sharks, barely restraining themselves from jumping up. Chowder follows after slowly, taking his sweet time getting to Robin, his favorite human. Steve can't even be jealous about that because Robin is his favorite human, too.
The back driver side door opens, and he watches as Eddie Munson all but falls out of the truck. It's the least graceful anyone's looked getting out of the back of the truck and that's counting Chowder and his old man hips. Seeing Eddie again is- well, it's a lot of emotions all at once, but they're are all overshadowed at the moment by how Eddie looks... well, bad. His hair is longer than Steve's ever seen it, a little longer than mid-back length, but it looks like it hasn't seen a proper hair brush in a couple of days. Even from this distance Steve can see the bags under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.
He pushes himself off the railing and meanders down the two steps, waiting for them to notice he's waiting. Robin trudges out of the snow berm and to the front of the truck, where Chowder is waiting patiently for his pets and kisses. Dustin has managed to get Melody to stop hopping in front of him so she can get her side scratches, and Pancake has realized there is a new, third person with a set of hands currently not petting her, and is circling Eddie, waiting for him to reach down and pet her but he just stands completely still, heading tracking her in her circles.
"She's friendly, I promise," Steve calls out, which makes Eddie's head snap up to look for the source of the voice. Well, everyone looks, but Eddie looks like he's seeing a ghost, which. Fair. Steve kind of feels the same way.
"Hello, Dingus," Robin calls as she stands from her crouched position, where she's been cuddling Chowder. As soon as she stands, he starts making his way back to the porch. "I have delivered one Edward Keaton Munson. You are not allowed to ask anything of me for, at minimum, a year."
"Steve! Why didn't you tell me you knew the Eddie Munson?" Dustin shouts.
Robin is scoffing, clearly offended. "Am I not famous enough for you Henderson!?"
"Get back to me when you've run a 24-hour Dungeons and Dragons live stream for charity!" Dustin shoots back, then has to dodge Robin's half-hearted punch aimed for his arm.
Eddie stays silent, looking more pale than when he got out of the truck. Steve's a little concerned he's going to faint.
"You been living under a rock, Dustin?" Steve asks. "My knowing him is apparently the only thing on the internet currently."
Dustin puts his whole head into the eye roll. "You spend a month backpacking with your girlfriend in the southern hemisphere and you never get to hear the end of it. I told you I'd catch up on your drama after I catch up on my DnD Live Plays."
"You also missed me winning a Grammy, you know."
"I thought Steve's thing was more important?"
"You are impossible, Henderson."
"You guys going to argue in the snow all afternoon, or do you want to come inside?" Steve says then places his fingers in his mouth and whistles. Melody and Pancake dash for the front door, where Chowder is already waiting. Dustin, Robin, and a still eerily quiet Eddie fall into line to walk the trail to the porch Steve had cleared.
Steve jumps the steps, grabs his thermos, lets the dogs in, and then holds the door for everyone else. Robin and Dustin breeze past, but Eddie slows, eyes jumping around Steve's face as they just look at each other for a moment. Eddie opens, then closes, then opens, then closes his mouth.
"Hi," Steve offers up, shifting a foot to hold the door open so he can wave his fingers at Eddie.
Eddie swallows thickly, then whispers back, "hey."
"In the house, Eddie. Don't want to let too much cold in," Steve tilts his head towards the doorway.
"Oh, right, sorry," that kick starts Eddie again and he crosses the threshold, Steve close behind.
Robin and Dustin are currently occupying the bench just inside the door, taking off their shoes. Once Dustin has his boots off, he leaves the bench, heading to the kitchen. Eddie seems lost, just standing in the entryway, so Steve takes the spot Dustin just left and proceeds to undo the laces on his boots. He gets one boot done by the time Robin stands, wandering after Dustin once she's hung up her coat, scarf, and gloves. Eddie doesn't move still, so Steve pats the empty spot beside him.
"No shoes in the cabin. Dogs track in enough snow, don't need us doing it too," Steve says, then busies himself with his other boot.
He sees Eddie sit and begin to untie his- jesus, he's not even wearing boots. Just a black pair of sneakers. Eddie unties his shoes in silence, sitting rather stiffly next to Steve.
This quiet, obedient Eddie is not what he expected.
"You want something to drink?" Steve asks, once both of them are free of their shoes.
"No, thank you."
"Alright. Have a seat, then," he gestures towards the couch. The cabin door opens up directly into the living area, which Steve has set up as 3/4th a living room and 1/4th dining room, in that a small kitchen table is along the far wall. Beyond that wall is the kitchen, where Robin and Dustin are undoubtedly helping themselves to his coffee or hot chocolate.
Eddie shuffles off to sit on the edge of the couch, as close to the armrest as he can get. Now that Steve can see him closer, he can see he's added more piercing to his face than just the eyebrow ring he wore in high school. Snake bites, a septum piercing, and a second eyebrow ring next to the original. He's sure that if Eddie's hair wasn't covering his ears, he'd see more metal there. Eddie had hung up the coat he'd been wearing but under that is a hoodie he didn't take off, so Steve can only guess if he ever got those tattoos he'd been planning in high school. His entire outfit is black, which just makes him look sickly in the cabin lighting.
Steve drops himself into the chair facing the couch. It's Melody's favorite chair to curl up in, but Steve thinks she'll forgive him for taking it. There's tension in the room, so he tries to break it. "You look like you've seen a ghost, dude."
Eddie makes a weird nose, almost a whimper or a whine, but before he can say anything, Robin rounds the wall, holding a mug of hot liquid and she says, "Oh, I'm sure he feels that he has. I didn't tell me we were coming to see you."
"Robin!" Steve is shocked.
"What? You said you wouldn't mind getting some closure, so I got him here. Does it matter how?" She takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Eddie, making a show of how comfortable she is in the space by sitting cross-legged and leaning back against the couch, in comparison to Eddie who is sitting up completely straight, barely on the couch with how close to the edge he's sitting.
"Yeah, it does! If he's not here voluntarily- if Eddie doesn't want to talk to me you can't-"
"I do," Eddie says. It grabs Steve and Robin's attention and Steve sees Eddie almost wilt under their twin stares. He clears his throat before continuing, "I mean, I would have come still, if she'd told me. I do want to talk to you. Apologize for.... for everything. So much I don't even know where to begin, or how."
"Uhh, this feels like something personal," Dustin says from where he's standing with his own mug, hovering nearby. "Should I be here for this?"
Good question. Steve doesn't care if Robin and Dustin hear what they talk about, but Eddie might. "How about we just relax a bit. How was the drive?"
Eddie scrunches his face, a half confused expression on his face.
"Fine," Robin says at the same time Dustin says, "Tense as fuck."
"Those two things don't seem like they match," Steve says.
Dustin moves to plop himself on the couch in between Eddie and Robin, then quietly curses as his drink sloshes over the edge of the mug. He starts mopping at it with the sleeve of his shirt as he says, "Robin is a liar. The tension in the truck is going to linger that's how bad it was. I'll be feeling the tension every time I get in the rig. Clients will feel the tension when I pull up to their curbs!"
"It was not that bad!" Robin swats Dustin. Successfully this time, since there's no way for him to dodge unless he wants to spill his drink again.
Steve just laughs. "Robs, light of my life, mate of my soul, knowing you and your grudges, Dustin's probably going easy on the description of the tension here."
"Well, there wouldn't be tension if I was allowed to say what I want to say."
"Can we go, like, five minutes without your negativity?"
"My negativity!? I'm not negative, I'm rational and level-headed!"
"You are not sounding very level-headed right now."
Dustin chimes in, "Steve's right. Level-headed people don't have to shout that they're level-headed."
"What say you, Eds?" Steve asks, the old nickname slipping out. He doesn't have time to be embarrassed about it though.
Eddie stands quickly and flings his hands in the air, having reached an invisible limit Steve is unaware of, pacing about the living room as he basically shouts, "Why don't you hate me!? You should hate me! I hate me! I can't- why are you just sitting there, trying to have a-a decent conversation with me? You should be screaming at me! You should be mad! Why aren't you? My fuckin' song ruined your life!"
The silence in the living room is heavy following that, all eyes on Eddie. Even the dogs, who had been in various states of sleep, lift their heads and look in Eddie's direction.
He looks mortified by the out burst, and his face turns red. "I-I'm sorry. I- I'm just, I'm sorry. I need air."
They all watch silently as Eddie jams his shoes back on and goes out the front door without tying them or grabbing his coat.
Steve sighs, deep and annoyed. At Robin and himself. He looks to Robin and she looks shocked by Eddie's outburst. She was watching the door, but turns her head to meet Steve's eye, a small frown on her face.
"Well, it's not like he's going far," Dustin says. "You going after him?"
"I don't know if I should."
Dustin scoffs. "Don't be an idiot, of course you should. We drug that guy to the middle of nowhere to talk to you. He agreed to come to the middle of nowhere even though I could have been a hit man hired by Robin to off him in the woods and he didn't even complain. Didn't even question. I don't know what happened, but I think you two need talk it over."
Steve blinks at Dustin. "Since when did you get so wise?"
"I've always been wise. You just refuse to see it with your ageism. Go. Robin can fill me in on the beef, here in the toasty, cozy cabin, while you two chat in the cold, and freeze your asses off."
"I don't have ageism-"
"Wrong argument to be having, Steve!" Dustin interrupts. "And take another cup of coffee with you. Even if he doesn't drink it, dude doesn't have gloves either so y'know, warm the hands."
Steve does just that. Fills his other thermos with coffee, taking a chance by adding cream and sugar, before putting his boots, coat, and beanie back on. He throws Eddie's coat over his arm and tucks both thermos' against his body with that same arm so he can have a free hand to open the door.
Eddie isn't far. He's pacing back and forth in front of the truck, talking to himself.
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Steve steps off the porch and makes his way to Eddie. "Hey."
The pacing stops and Eddie turns to look at Steve. They just look at each other as Steve approaches. Steve doesn't stop until he's close enough to reach out and touch before he shuffles the two thermos's to his other arm and extends the one with Eddie's coat on it out.
"Thank you," Eddie says, taking the coat and shoving himself into it quickly.
"Brought you coffee, too," Steve holds out one thermos and after a pause, Eddie takes it, too, then almost instantly brings his other hand up to cradle it, warming his fingers.
He looks up from the thermos and meets Steve's eye. "I am sorry, Steve. I'm sorry for how things ended between us, and for the song I wrote, and for-for not thinking about how people would be able to work out that you were the Steve from Hey Steve. You should hate me for that alone. I'm so sorry for everything that's happened because I didn't think of the consequences."
"I don't- I don't hate you man. Not... not anymore. Not for a long time."
"Well, you should!"
Steve frowns. He wants to argue because who is Eddie to tell him how he should feel? But that's not going to help anything. "When Robin called me. During her interview after the Grammy's and asked if she could tell the truth I never- I didn't know what she meant by the truth. But. Well, nothing she said was a lie, but it wasn't the full story."
Eddie stays silent, seemingly waiting for Steve to continue.
"Those first two years after our breakup were- I'm not going to lie, they were fucking awful. I think I received my first bit of hate mail the very same day Hey Steve released. It was harsh. All from the same person, but sent to my Facebook and my Twitter and Instagram. Guess they really wanted me to read it.
"And then, with each passing day, a new person, new message, just as awful. After three days I deleted Instagram and Twitter. Then I locked down Facebook but like- physical letters showed up at my house. I can't lie, it certainly felt like you'd ruined my life."
Eddie makes a wounded sound at that. "That's because I did! What I did was unforgivable and-"
"You don't get to decide for me if I forgive you or not!" Steve snaps. "I haven't actually said I did forgive you, did I? All I've said is I don't hate you."
That gets Eddie quiet again for a moment, then he says, "you ended up hospitalized because of me."
"Robin said I ended up hospitalized, and that's true, but it wasn't- It was more complicated that just being your, and your fans', fault. For people who were supposedly on 'your side' of our breakup, they used a lot of homophobic language. That's how my mom found out. The letters were easy enough to just get rid of because all the bad shit was on the inside, but someone sent a post card, and mom collected the mail that day. It's... I don't like talking about this."
"Then don't," Eddie is quick to say, "you don't have to explain anything to me, or make yourself relive these events. It's- you don't owe that to me."
"I think I need to. I wrote you a song, said I'd do it all again, and I meant that. I want you to understand why. Just. Just give me a minute."
Eddie nods and takes a sip of his coffee. He looks pleasantly surprised and takes bigger drink before his face falls into a frown as he stares down at the thermos and Steve has to look away. He turns and squeezes his eyes shut to continue. "Mom showed the postcard to my father, and he confronted me that evening. It was.... it didn't start off bad. He asked if it was true. That I was gay. I made a choice, then. I didn't have to; I could have lied. I could have told him I was straight and that I didn't understand what the postcard was saying, but I didn't.
"I knew how he felt about queer people, and I told him the truth anyway. I was bisexual. I thought it was a miracle that he didn't kick me out instantly. Instead, he calmly asked me if that meant I liked woman. I said it meant I liked more than just woman.
"Then he told me that didn't matter. That so long as I liked woman, I would be with a woman, and that we never had to speak of this again. And I told him no. He didn't get to decide that for me. He said that he would rather have a dead son than a faggot one. And I thought- I never- surely he was just meaning, like, metaphorically, right? Like, he'd disown me, kick me out or something so I scoffed and said- God, I was so stupid. I knew it wasn't safe, but I was so angry at him, I shouted 'dead or alive, I'm your faggot son so deal with it.' And he- he said 'dead it is' and he attacked me."
He hears Eddie suck in a breath, hears the crunch of snow in what could only be Eddie taking a step towards him but stopping after just one step. Steve doesn't know if he wants Eddie to close the distance and give him the hug he knows Eddie wants to do. Steve doesn't know if he'd welcome the embrace or not. He sucks in his own shaky breath, and continues, "He almost beat me to death that night. The only reason he didn't was because mom dialed 911," Steve turns around, looks at Eddie and sees the tears falling down his own face reflected on Eddie. "As far as I know, dad's still serving time for his attempted murder, so like, at least I don't have to worry about him. And mom... I don't even know what to think of that.
"She called 911, didn't want to see me die, I guess, but also couldn't have a gay son. She sold the house, and everything in it, while I was still in the hospital, and just... disappeared. Robin's family took me in. She told that story during the interview, you knoe, but I wasn't even at the house when that guy with the gun showed up. I was meeting with a lawyer.
"She-Mom was- I don't know what she was trying to do but she gave me the family business. The whole company! It felt like she was trying to buy my forgiveness, except she didn't ask for it and still hasn't contacted me. It's like... she felt guilty about what happened but hated me at the same time. Felt she needed to do something to alleviate her guilt? Or maybe she just wanted to cut herself free of the whole Harrington name; free herself from me and my father. I don't think I'll ever get closure for that one."
Steve quits talking, needs to take another moment. He'd already rambled on about more than he meant to but talking to Eddie had always done that to him. Afterall, before they dated, they'd been friends. He sips at his coffee, not knowing what else to say.
"Jesus, Stevie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know- It's no excuse but I'm just so sorry."
He doesn't think Eddie knows he called him Stevie, but it's nice to hear. "So, see, it wasn't your fault. Your song set things into motion, for sure, so it's nice to hear an apology, but like, if anyone is the bad guy in this situation, it's Richard Harrington."
"But Robin said she just had to help you move to here. That you still get hate mail, and doxxed. That's on me. I saw your list of addresses, Steve! You've had to move, like, eight times a year!"
Steve can't help the cackle that springs from him. He surprises himself with the laugh, and Eddie, too, if his wide eyes and eyebrows hidden behind his bangs are any indication. "I- yeah, I move a lot. And yes, this most recent move was because of a brick with Hey Steve scratched into it broke my living room window, but like, I've only had to move because of harassment like, four times, if I'm counting the whole mom-selling-the-house thing."
"What?"
Steve holds up a finger, adding a new one as he counts them out. "Mom sold house. Scary gun guy at Robin's. The year anniversary of your first album's release. I was still in Hawkins, figuring out what to do with all the money I'd, uhh, inherited I guess, so I was easy to find. And the most recent one. Not sure what inspired it this time. Usually, the hate mail resurges when you go on tour, but it's less and less every time. Anyway, none of those other moves are because of crazy fans."
Eddie blinks at him, a picture of confusion. "But I found a YouTube video and that guy- he showed all your old addresses. He said- I thought..."
"Well, there are a lot of addresses. But not because of your fans. I move for my job. Do you... did you even read the truck?" Steve gestures to Dustin's truck and Eddie steps around to see the printed H&H Project Flip and below that is their website.
Eddie looks back to Steve like that answers nothing. Which, fair, but it would answer a lot of questions if Eddie had looked up the website. "After that surge of anniversary hate, I knew I needed to get out of Hawkins. Robin was graduated, then, and headed to college. I decided I wanted to see more than just Hawkins. I followed Robin to college in Chicago, and uh, bought a house. A real fixer upper but that was fine. I had plenty of money to throw into it. On a whim I thought, what if I try to fix it. I had a lot of free time and if it ended up badly, I could afford to pay a professional to fix whatever I broke. I found that I loved doing that."
He's still just being looked at like he's not making sense.
Steve rolls his eyes, "I flip houses, dude. Me and Dustin. Harrington and Henderson Project Flip. I was in Chicago for three years, lots of addresses for that city. But then Robin pointed out there were a lot of states. That I should see all 50 of 'em by renovating a house in each. She'd moved in with her then-girlfriend by this time, so she said I should go. See the States at the least. So, I did. I find it easier to just live in the house I'm renovating, so I'm not paying mortgage and then rent somewhere else in the same city."
Eddie looks like he's had a rug pulled out from under him and he lets out a laugh that's a little hysterical.
"And moving so much has allowed me to meet so many amazing people, y'know? I got friends in all the states. So, like, yeah, you did ruin my life, but like, just my life from 18 to 20. So, yeah, I'd do it all again. Did you think I've been living in perpetual misery for the last ten years?"
"Robin certainly made it easy to assume that, so yeah!"
"I think she did that on purpose. To hurt you back."
"I deserve it," Eddie says. "I didn't even try to check in on you. Well, once, but when I couldn't find you on any socials I just. Gave up."
Steve shrugs. "I didn't reach out either. And if you'll remember, I broke up with you. Screamed in your face that we were over and went home."
"I don't know when, or even if, Corroded Coffin will tour again, but I swear to you, we'll never play or release Hey Steve again. And I'll release a statement, or go on camera, or something, and address this. I can't make it right, but I can make a change starting now, to do better and be better," Eddie says this while gripping his thermos to death.
"I believe you, and I forgive you."
Eddie nods grimly, then looks from Steve to the cabin, and back to Steve. "Do you think Robin will ever forgive me?"
"I don't know. You hurt her pretty badly, too. We were all best friends in school and when we broke up, you cut off Robin, too. And then, when she started to gain her own fame- I think when she first moved to LA, she thought you'd try to reach out. But you never did."
A silence falls over them, and Steve refuses to break it. He's done enough talking. They drink their coffees 'til they're empty before Eddie speaks.
"Where does this leave us?"
Steve thinks about it before answering. "You were my best friend before you were my boyfriend. You'd been in my life longer than you've been out of it. We don't have to be anything. We can have our closure and go our separate ways, if you'd prefer. But, I think I'd like another chance at being your friend."
"I can do friend," Eddie says slowly, like he's picking his words carefully. "I can. But, full transparency, I think I still love you."
It hurts to hear, after all the pain and the time, and it's a bittersweet kind of hurt. "I'll always love you, Eds. I meant it, you know, every word of the song. But I don't know if we can, or should, try again. We were so good until we weren't."
Tears spring from Eddie's eyes when Steve says he loves him, and they don't stop falling even as he's nodding along with everything Steve says. "No, I know. I know. I just, I needed you to know. Friend is, it's so fucking great. More than I ever expected, and certainly more than I dared hope."
"Come on. Let's go inside where it's warm and chat with Dustin and Robin like civilized people. I need a break from the heavy talk."
"Yeah. Me too. Thank you, Steve. For the chance."
Steve shrugs and shoots him a crooked grin. "Yeah, well, ruin this a second time and Robin will rip you to shreds on live TV, probably."
There's more to talk about. More hurts to heal and things to discuss, Steve knows. And maybe after all the talking, they'll learn they've changed too much to even be friends. But that'll be okay, because if that's how it goes, it'll be because they talked it out instead of screaming at each other in a living room.
If they've changed too much, this time, it'll end gently.
It doesn't stop Steve from letting a little bit of hope in. That this won't end, that they can find a way to be in each other's lives again.
As friends, or more.
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prismatoxic · 4 months
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anyway before i go back to sleep, here's this
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selineram3421 · 4 months
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I can't get this out of my head so all of you get to deal with it too.
Every time I hear Hozier-Too Sweet, all I can think of is Alastor singing it to the reader.
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imabeautifulbutterfly · 4 months
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Hi! Congrats on the followers! Can I request Maneater by Nelly Furtado? With Crosshair?
Hello my lovely Anon!
I am so sorry this took longer than expected to post, things got crazy on the weekend, and then yesterday I was just super exhausted, and went to sleep early.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my take on, Maneater by Nelly Furtado.
Love oo
Maneater
Warnings: Competition, showing off, betting, mentions of drinking, kissing. I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.
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The shooting range was rather quiet, except for one lane. 
Every trooper seemed to be surrounding the one lane you occupied, you were too focused on your target, pushing it further and further away, as you sat in your chair using your sniper rifle. 
Crosshair was shocked by the sheer silence that seemed to fill the shooting range. His curiosity getting the best of him, caused him to walk over to where you sat watching as you took another shot. He listened to the murmurs surrounding you, unable to actually see what you looked like or what the big deal was, not that he even really cared.
“No one can make that shot.” One trooper mumbled to the other trooper standing beside him.
“They haven’t missed a shot since they’ve been here.” Another trooper further away from Crosshair stated loudly.
“Think they’d say yes, if I asked them out for a drink?”
Crosshair simply rolled his eyes as he heard the last comment, shaking his head as he set up his own sniper rifle in the lane beside you. With the crowd around, a desire for competition arose in him. A smile etched on his lips, as he couldn’t help wanting to show off. He set his target at the same distance yours was, taking his time to adjust his scope. He took his time and fired at the same moment you did, both of you hitting your targets dead centre. 
The whole crowd went silent.
You jolted at hearing the second shot and seeing the screen register the hit on the distanced target. 
“Nice shot,” you called over to the lane beside you, a sense of competition rising in you at seeing a competitor worthy of your notice finally turning up.
“Likewise,” came the response from the gravelly, low, whisper-like voice. It felt menacing but weirdly comforting in a way. 
“Care to wager, stranger?”
“You think you could beat me?”
“If I don’t, I’ll buy you a drink.”
“And if you win?”
“You buy me a drink.”
“What makes you think I want to spend time with you?”
“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have set up your target right beside me, or even for the same distance.” You smirked as you lined up your shot, “Let’s go one more time, and then every time we make the shot, we increase the target by 50 yards.”
There were murmured whispers from the troopers behind you as they watched the both of you setting up. 
You shook your head ignoring them.  “So what do you say, stranger? Interested?”
“When I win, I’m ordering the biggest and most expensive drink available, and we won’t be going to ‘79s.”
“Fine by me.” You smirked as you both took the shot. 
You both hit every target for the past two hours. Your next target was reaching 11,000 yards; at this range, you doubted if you’d be even able to hit it. As it is, you were stretching the limit of your ability. However you weren’t one to give up, you lined up your shot taking deep breaths, and steadied your breathing. 
Firing.
Ping!
Ping!
You both hit the target again. You were impressed with the stranger beside you.
“You’re really making me work for my drink, aren’t you?” You teased as you both reset the distance to 11,100 yards. After you both hit 7000 yards, you’d agreed to increase the difficulty to 100 yards each time you hit the target. Then when you reached 9000 yards, you both agreed to change the difficulty once again, increasing it to 250 yards each time. 
“Wouldn’t be fair if I was easy on you?”
“True. Alright, since this should be the last one. Let’s go crazy 14,000 yards.”
The murmurs started again behind them, everyone was in disbelief. It seemed as though more and more people on base were coming to check out the competition between you and the mysterious person beside you. 
“You think you can handle that?” Crosshair asked, he was more than impressed with you. You hit your target every time, without delay; plus you had a rather pleasant voice that seemed to stir something deep within him. 
“If I can’t, then you get a free drink. What’s the problem?”
“Hmmm, fine. Just be ready to pay up.” 
Everyone in the gun range quieted down, as they watched you both set your target to 14,000 yards. The only thing that could be heard was the slight shifting from both of them, as they lined up their targets. Once again, almost in sync they slowed down their breathing.
You took a second and slowly squeezed the trigger, watching as the blaster bolt from your rifle took its time to reach the target, only to hit left of centre. You mumbled out a curse, as you looked at Crosshair, he still hit dead centre. 
You stretched as you finally stood after so many hours of sitting and shooting. You moved around the lane, finally getting a look at your opponent. 
Crosshair stood stretching, surprised when he came face to face with you. He expected someone … else. Not someone who took his breath away the moment he met them. 
“Crosshair” he held out his hand unsure of what more to say.
You nodded, smiling, as you introduced yourself, shaking his hand. 
“That’s some good shooting, Crosshair.”
“You too.”
“I gotta ask how did you keep it steady to hit dead centre.”
“Micro-adjustments, they’re so small, almost imperceptible to the human eye.”
You smiled as you leaned against the lane divider, smiling from ear to ear as you kept your eyes on the silver fox in front of you, “Impressive, wanna tell me more over the drink I owe you?”
“Can’t see why not.”
“You free for a drink, now?”
“Definitely.”
Half an hour later, you were both in a taxi unable to keep your hands off each other as you headed to your apartment. The bar could wait. 
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speakofthedebbie · 17 days
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some inspiring words from my newest radioapple draft
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expectiations · 4 months
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Thinking of how "left me like a book on a shelf" is from River's POV and therefore does not mean it is the entirety of the story much like how "the Doctor does not and has never loved me" was uttered from a River who was grieving.
Like the Doctor could have spent a long time putting the TARDIS in stationary orbit around the Library. The Doctor could have puttered about with the Library from years before it was shut down to ensure that everything would go smoothly while doing his best not to change a single thing. And on days when it is too hard, he just stares at the Library from his perch on the TARDIS door. Waiting, hoping, thinking. Trying to find a way out for her. For them.
And he does!
He finds a hundred ways to get her out of the data core. But...something always goes wrong. It's somehow never good enough. She's back, but she's not entirely there.
So he scratches it out, slaps himself, and tries again.
And again.
And again.
But his plans always fail.
But they don't. Not really. His plans could work. Could have worked. His beloved Sexy would help him. She'd always help him when it comes to her Water. But he was too scared. Too frightened of failure. Because one single mistake. One. Single. Mistake. And she's gone. He can never get her back. Forever.
So he runs. And runs. And runs. Until centuries has gone by and companion come and gone. Until he met a younger, more alive version of her. And then they had Darillium. And oh the joys of wonderful joys, what a night that was.
But things end. Even for him. They had to part ways again. Had to say goodbye. So he tries again. Picks up what his previous self had shelved. He tries. Oh how he tries.
But still. That fear exists. Is it worth it? Can he finally accomplish what he'd started a literal lifetime ago?
(He doesn't.)
Off on another lifetime with a new body. He's a...she now? Oh and shorter! Wow. That's new! I wonder what Ri–
On the rare moments she allows herself to succumb to sleep she goes to their his her study. She takes a moment to take everything in. It's unrecognizable now – the study that once was theirs filled with warmth and laughter and-
Every single space was taken. Covered by plans of plans of plans spanning...two...lifetimes now. Sexy still kept it just as it was the last time he she had been in there.
Their His Her favorite throw was still where it was – on their his her favorite corner of their his her favorite couch.
Nothing had changed but everything had changed.
She curled up and buried her face hoping it would still smell of her (It did. They never knew how it worked but somehow her smell still lingered anyway. They thought they were hallucinating at first but other people had been able to smell it too. Sometimes they forget but Sexy also lost her too).
She was a he again. The same face they had four lifetimes ago. The same face who was the first to keep the memory of their meeting.
But wh- what? Why? How? Is this it? Is this the body that finally brings her back home? A fitting act really. He put her in there and so he'll also put her out of there.
But... she wasn't there. Nothing was there. Nothing but chunks of debris and ashes and smelted...somethings.
When he blinked his eyes open (when had he closed them?), Donna's worried face greeted him. He blinked again and blinked. Nothing changed. Everything has changed. He had waited for far too long. He had made her wait for far. too. long. He feared of failing her but now he actually has failed her.
Everything was bland now. Was it just him or is everything a bit...on the side of grey? Donna looks at him like he might break. (He won't. He's a Time Lord. Time Lords don't break.) Even Sylvia had taken to treating him a bit more kindly.
He goes off alone with Sexy. His return to the Noble-Temple (Temple-Noble) household becomes fewer and further in between. One day he finds himself in Venice. Wonderful Venice. His Pond and her Roman (who wasn't yet a Roman) had gone here. There were vampires. And running and –
River?
No silly. River wasn't there.
He blinked. And blinked again. Made sure the sky was blue and the clouds still fluffy white. But was that his leather jacket that just whizzed by past him? Wait. Hold on. That was... Was that? Oh no. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Did they? No. They couldn't have.
But of course, apparently they did. Because that was actually his leather jacket wearing self that just passed by him again(?) tugging along his very-much-not-dead wife along running from... Hold on. Why are they running? What- Who's shooting at her?!
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midnight-mourning · 5 days
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mmmmm take these and panic:
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Chapter won't be out this coming week (like I said on ao3, need to do every 2 weeks for a bit) but should be on track for the week after!
For now, do what you will with these out of context ch. 35 spoilers :)
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