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the challenging part for me when it comes to writing enemies to lovers is balancing just how mean they are when they insult each other without crossing the line to a point of no return.
#like i want them to have that /hatred/ than just annoyance#i want them to butt heads because they 'despise' each other#but i don't want them to say words that ends up becoming unforgivable#bc i really hate it when they've so obviously hurt each other#but then they're somehow fucking in the next paragraph#and then suddenly all is forgiven LAKSLAKSKLAS#and gosh have i read those#like damn i didn't know the degradation kink ran that deep LMAO#like i'm all for hate sex#but forgiving them right away???#honestly it's kinda the same with angst to fluff fics ngl#ramblings
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Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18 +
Previous Part | Master List | Next Part
Big big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing and spit balling ideas and giving feedback.
Another big thank you to @bebe07011 for spit balling ideas and fueling my ego <3
I have no idea where this story or be without either of you girls. Or me, for that matter.
Word count: 16.6k
Warnings: Degradation/praise, light use of sir without any discussion, light hunter/prey play, crying while fucking (eddie), and a whole steddie story at the start. Lots of talk of their future in this part.
Author's note: When I say I am blown away by the reception of this fanfic, wholeheartedly mean it. Any word of kindness you have given just fueled the fire in me. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and exploring where the story will take us.
Due to some worry in the comments from last part I will clear this up: Neither Eddie nor Reader will be cheating, they're it for one another. Steve is here as a long time friend, someone with a wife and kids at home.
That being said, thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.
edit: somehow the first paragraph was missing? all fixed.
About 26/27 Years Ago:
At the failure of both their university careers, Steve and Eddie both dropped out within weeks of one another. This was unplanned, neither one of them knowing as they went back to Hawkins to a mini reunion. They agreed to meet one another for a drink, just the two of them, where Steve kindly asked how Eddie’s schooling was going, to which Eddie answered sheepishly that he had dropped out. Steve let out a bark of laughter, laughing through his response that he had also dropped out.
The mutual sigh of relief waved over them both, the two of them grateful they wouldn’t be receiving that same damn look of pity again. Their conversation then flowed into ease; the embarrassment was no longer there for either of them. Since they both dropped out, they each had found a dead-end job to make their ends meet while they figured out their next move.
Simply, they were at the exact same spot in life. This would be reoccurring for them over the next few years, finding their wives within the same six-month span, and both Arlo and Dylan being born within a year of one another. It’s no wonder why they became so close.
Steve had a crazy idea in their third hour in the bar booth, a little bit buzzed. “Dude. We should go to Vegas.”
Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows, completely thrown off by the suggestion. “What?”
“C’mon, Vegas! Our jobs both suck, and we’re the only ones who actually understand each-other’s shituations.”
Eddie sighed and took another sip of his beer. “Fuck it, let’s go.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“When?”
“Now!”
Eddie nearly spit out his beer, looking at Steve like he was crazy. “Now?”
“Dude. I still have my parents’ credit cards. They’re too lazy to actually cut me off.” Steve’s words were a bit slurred, holding up the many black cards.
Eddie downed his beer; the financials were his number one reason not to go. If this was gonna be on the Harrington’s dime, you best believe he would take full advantage of his friend’s shitty parents’ money.
Halfway through their first bus, Steve and Eddie started to sober up and wondered if it was a good idea. Too late, they were already four hours away. It took a total of 31 hours of driving on the road and about six different buses, but they finally made it to Nevada with nothing but the shirts on their backs and delirious glee.
The first two days they spent gambling and shooting the shit, both nights staring up at the bodies of women with numerous dollar bills in string thongs. (Eddie will omit this part when he tells it to you, for your own sanity’s sake.) On the third night, as Steve was a bit more drunk than the previous two, Eddie found a strong ass strain of weed on the strip and was a bit stoned. One of them managed to convince the other that finding girls to hook up with was the good idea.
They both went on with their night, keeping an eye out for any girl they could prospect. Even with a few conversations with some girls, they both came up short. Hooking up with women who were also running away from their problems was a bad idea.
Steve found a girl, but soon realized she was a dud when she made fun of Eddie’s bandana wrapped around his head. Eddie came up to Steve as she rolled her eyes and stomped off. Jesus. As he rested on the bar, he noticed something he wondered if he had imagined the whole three days they were there. Eddie’s eyes lingered on him, checking him out not-so-subtly. Steve leered on Eddie’s soft pink lips for too long for Steve to confidently tell himself he was not interested. His eyes raked down Eddie, taking in everything, subconsciously licking his lips. Having these thoughts, he realized Eddie was talking to him the entire time and he didn’t take in a single word.
“Well, that was a bust. C’mon. Let’s go get our sleep, we’re spending the next two days bussing home.” Steve yanked Eddie by the sleeve of the gift shop shirt he got up to the hotel elevator.
Eddie wandered into the bathroom when they got to their room and when he came out, he saw Steve sitting on the edge of his bed, legs out and leant back on straight arms. Eddie chuckled nervously. As dorky as it was, Steve looked fantastic in the makeshift gift shop outfit he had gotten himself.
“Steve?” He asked, hesitantly walking towards him.
An uncontrollable huff of laughter left Steve’s mouth, he stood up to face Eddie, accidentally meeting him only inches away from his face. It was a flicker. Only a flicker. A flicker of Eddie’s eyes looking directly to Steve’s lips, and Steve couldn’t help but smile. “You know, Eddie. If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide, the panic in his face was clear. “I-I…” He stuttered, his breathing picked up exponentially in the last two minutes and the air in the hotel room was thick.
Steve gently placed one hand on Eddie’s cheek bone, slowly caressing it as to calm the nerves he could tell were radiating off Eddie. He smiled, glancing down very obviously to Eddie’s mouth to ask for permission. Eddie nodded the tiniest goddamn nod in the world and nearly blacked out when Steve’s lips came rushing for his own.
When their lips met, Eddie moaned into it, moving to someone’s bed, he couldn’t tell nor did he care which, and let Steve fall on top of him.
The kisses were messy, clothes were thrown all over the hotel room, and the sex was rough and giggly, but desperate.
And only one time, they decided as they woke up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing at the sheer absurdity that filled the air as they were both wrapped in white sheets.
-
“Uh, Eddie? It’s for you… his name is Steve Harrington?” Eddie pauses, in the middle of hanging a sweater in what seems to be the designated spot for knitwear. A quick assessment tells you that you now have more sweaters than you need, observing them all hung delicately by his hands.
“No way.” Eddie mutters, a smile slowly creeping up on his face. He jogs right past you to the hallway and down the stairs, the quick thumping of his feet loud in the silence of the house.
Your brain takes a moment to catch up to you, following Eddie’s lead back down the stairs. As the front entrance comes into view halfway down the stairs, you see the two men wrapped up in a genuine embrace, arms flexed as they hug one another. They separate, but not by much, maintaining only a few feet between them.
“You didn’t tell me when you were coming!” Eddie accuses playfully, patting Steve on his shoulder.
Steve’s hands are on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, I ended up coming 2 weeks early.”
“No shit, hey?” Eddie leans back, crossing his arms.
They fall into a conversation so easily that their comfort with one another radiates off them. You would be offended Eddie hasn’t introduced you to him yet if it weren’t for their entertaining back and forth with one another.
“How long have you two known each other?” You mistakenly interrupt them, cutting off the conversation.
“Uh, since high school.” Eddie answers, elbowing Steve.
Steve’s eyes widen deliriously, jerking back at the neck. “Uh, try Jr. High.” He laughs. “Eddie here was the new kid.” He seems to laugh at the memory of young Eddie. Man, you’ll need photographic proof. “The weird-o new kid.”
“Oh, sorry my mom abandoned me, Steve.” Eddie laughs, not a lick of remorse behind it. You gulp, your heartstrings pulled at his throwaway comment.
“Abandonment issues can forgive weirdness only for so long, Eddie.”
“Yeah, but I got it renewed fifteen years ago. Didn’t even have to ask, she just did it for me.”
There’s a moment of silence until they break into laughter, poking fun at one another.
“I’m so sorry, who’s this?” Steve gestures to you, walking over to where you’re standing by the stairs.
“Oh, I’m Y/N.” You hold your hand out to him, somewhat nervous to be meeting someone who’s known Eddie for so long. Decades long before you were even born.
Steve’s hand meets yours and shakes it gracefully, his kind chocolate brown eyes meeting yours. “He paying you well?” You’re not sure how to answer this, your hand still holding Steve’s as you and Eddie give another a look of confusion. “Oh, sorry. You must be Dylan’s girlfriend! Where is he off to, anyway?” Steve lets go of your hand.
“Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember I told you I was seeing someone?” You smile to yourself under the mere indication that Eddie talked to someone about you.
Steve nods, remembering the life in Eddie’s voice when he called. “Yep.”
Eddie points to you, gesturing multiple times until Steve finally gets the hint. “Oh…oh. Oh!” Steve’s hands move back to his hips, his eyes switching back and forth between you and Eddie quickly. “But she’s a child.” Steve deadpans, pointing to you and furrowing his brows at Eddie.
Eddie chuckles, placing his arm around you as Steve takes it in. You’re slightly offended on your own behalf at the prospect of being called a child. Eddie places a kiss on your temple to ease the tension, making you melt into it. “No, she’s not.”
You tilt your head back at Eddie, giving him a sleepy smile, eyes half closed. He kisses you as if to put the final nail in the coffin in any disbelief Steve might’ve had. You breathe deeply as he pulls away, and goddamn, did you have a long day today.
“Wait until Robin hears you’re dating someone half your age.” Steve muses, shaking his head. “She’s gonna have a field day.”
“Wait till she hears we’re already shacked up.” Eddie jokes, bringing you to the couch and therefore leading Steve as well.
As you sit down on the couch, you cuddle into him, head laying down on his chest. Steve asks how his shop is doing, to which Eddie gives the run down on the nicest cars he’s seen and a customer’s hunk of junk he couldn’t believe was still driving around. Steve explains the logistics of his job, and by the tone of Eddie’s voice, you could tell he had no idea any of what Steve was saying, but he was being supportive in tone, nonetheless.
“How are the kids?” Eddie asks, and you watch as Steve’s eyes light up in response.
“Oh, they’re great.”
“How old are they?” You ask, a tad curious.
“Uh, Arlo is 24, Nick is 17, Dustin is 15, and Eliza is 4.” Steve riles off, letting his head fall back on the couch. Damn, he sure didn’t look like a dad of four.
“Is Eliza 4 already?” Eddie asks, shaking his head.
“Sure is.” Steve answers, bringing out his phone. He unlocks it, and presumably goes into his photos until passing it over to you and Eddie. “Here. This was from yesterday.”
“Awww.” You let out, seeing the image of a little girl with Steve’s curls playing on a water mat.
“Oh, aww” Eddie lets out, laughing through it. Eliza is adorable, that much is clear. But as you look up at Eddie scrolling through a few of the photos of Eliza playing in the water, the hearts in his eyes are undeniable. He laughs softly at them, as if he can’t get enough of any of the photos. As Eddie passes the photos with his praises of Eliza, a stirring gut feeling sits there, a feeling you’ve been proud that you’ve been able to hold off with Eddie already having a grown child.
Goddamn, you wanted to have this man’s babies. Or at least, baby. The idea of him looking this sweetly at a child you made together invades your heart and makes you squirm on his chest a bit. You lean off his chest, afraid of these strong feelings of wanting this much of a future with him; it was a little scary. “I’m sleepy. Been a long day, I’m gonna go take a nap.”
“Alright, here.” He gets up with you, taking your hand and walking you around the couch. “Be right back, Steve.”
Eddie goes up the stairs to your room, escorting you to your now shared bed. Last week it had dark grey sheets. Now it has your favourite yellow daisy-themed sheets that Eddie insisted upon using. You lie down, still thinking of the way his eyes lit up and the smile that took over his face from the pictures. It made something stir in you. You were exhausted from your long day, that was no lie, but needed the excuse to leave before you did something crazy.
Like riding him on the couch. (And begging for his babies)
“Have a good sleep, sweetheart. I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” He kisses your forehead, soft and sweet. “Love you.”
“Love you.” You mutter through your breath, eyes already closing.
-
You’re already fast asleep by the time Eddie closes the door. As he reaches the bottom of the steps, Steve looks up at him expectantly, his brow slightly furrowed. He’s concerned, and to be fair, he has a reason to be. “So, we’re dating 20-year-olds, now?”
Eddie bites his tongue from correcting your age. “I guess you could say that.”
“What is this, some sort of midlife crisis? Get a red sports car, not someone who beats my oldest by months, hell your kid by months. I mean, come on, man. Use your brain.” Steve taps his shoulder on the last sentence, surely thinking he’s putting Eddie’s head back on right. However, Eddie just sits through the lecture without defending himself so he can say his piece when the time comes. “I-I mean where did you even find her, on her way to school?”
The front door slams. Dylan’s home. “Dad, am I tripping or is Uncle Steve’s car out front—Hey!” He cuts himself off, jogging toward them as soon as he sees Steve on the couch. Steve stands up to give him a tight hug, having known Dylan since the day he was born. “What’re you doing here?”
“Came by for a visit, turns out your dad’s having a midlife crisis.”
Dylan’s brows pinch together as he glances around Steve to Eddie for clarification. Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pretending not to know a single thing Steve was talking about. “What, did he get a sports car or something? He says they look pretty but they’re not made to last.”
“No, no. I was talking about his pretty new girlfriend.” The pang of possessiveness that hits Eddie in the chest is unprecedented for Steve just calling you pretty.
Dylan hardly holds in his laughter, walking into the kitchen before a full-on laugh escapes his throat. Steve stares off at him, glancing at Eddie and clearly asking, what the hell is wrong with that boy? Dylan makes himself calm down, coming back into the living room with a shit eating grin on his face. “So did he tell you how they met?”
“N-no.” Steve hesitates based on the grin on his face.
“He hasn’t let me get that far, yet.” Eddie chimes in, looking a little cozy as he settles into the couch. You were right, it has been a long ass day.
“I’m gonna tell him.” It wasn’t a threat per se, Dylan just wanted to watch the panic in his dad’s eyes.
Eddie lifts his head off the back pillow of the couch, having been looking up at the ceiling. “He’s gonna find out eventually. I was just gonna wait until she woke up.”
“Tell me…what?” Steve asks, tired of watching Eddie and Dylan’s back and forth.
Dylan gives one last chuckle, the laughter telling Eddie it’s not something he’s very bitter about anymore. They still haven’t talked about it; he’s been waiting for Dylan to come to him. “She was my girlfriend, first.” Dylan says through a smirk. “She cheated on me. With dad.”
Steve processes it, both Dylan and Eddie can see the hamster wheel turning in his head. He looks back and forth between Dylan and Eddie, his eyes staying on either one for a moment. His eyes don’t blink the entire time, switching back and forth for a solid minute.
“Dude!” Steve finally says, landing on Eddie. “What the fuck happened, Ed?”
Dylan continues laughing, walking over to his dad. “Yeah dad, what happened?”
Eddie lets his head fall back on the pillows again, closing his eyes for a brief second. “Well, I tried to keep my distance…she did not.” Shit, that’s putting all the blame on you. “I wasn’t strong enough to tell her to break up with Dylan, first. Felt like I was seventeen years old, hormones just raging to a point where I couldn’t think straight with her right there.” He gets up from the couch, walking up to his closest friend of 30+ years. “She’s not just some 25-year-old, Steve. This girl, Steve, she’s everything, and somehow, she’s convinced that she’s the lucky one.”
When his dad spews cheesy shit like this it certainly softens the blow. Feels funny that he ever dated you in the first place at times.
Steve seems to miss the fact that Dylan has gotten almost completely over it by now. “That’s all good and nice, but I think you’re missing the fact that you stole your son’s girlfriend?”
Dylan lets out another laugh, wishing Steve was here when everything went down. That would’ve been a show. “Listen, Uncle Steve. I appreciate you standing up for me, truly, I do. If you were here three weeks ago when they fucked in my truck, then that would’ve been…just great.”
“You fucked in his tru—”
Dylan cuts him off, “But honestly, I didn’t date her for very long. If anything, I had only begun to develop some deeper feelings for her, but these two had it right away. They’re good together. I wish they could’ve just told me their feelings and then slept together, but with Maya…if she was dating one of my boys I would’ve done the same thing.”
Steve’s hand lands on Dylan’s shoulder, seeing the truth in his statement. “Well, you’ll have to tell me about Maya, then.” He turns back to Eddie, a pinch appearing back between his brows. “But seriously, you fucked in his truck? What kind of sicko are you?”
“His was unlocked. He knows better.” Eddie shrugs, Steve rolls his eyes fondly.
“Good god, man.”
“I was actually just here to grab something, but I’ll see you for supper?” Dylan shoots, mid stride towards the stairs.
“We’re eating out, be back by 8:30.” Steve calls up, and Dylan waves his hand in acknowledgement.
“We are?” Eddie asks, sitting back on the couch.
“Oh yeah, Munson.” He sits on the cushion beside him, leaning onto his knees. “But tell me about her. Sorry I just assumed…but Robin will absolutely be calling you to rip your head off.”
“Or…she can find out in person one day.”
“Like at your wedding?” Steve teases, but lets out a burst of laughter when the blush appears on his cheeks. “Seriously, you hear wedding bells?”
“I’m not getting any younger, dude. But my hormones are, man, she has me doing multiple rounds, sometimes more than one a day!” Steve’s eyes widen, intrigued by this. “I haven’t fucked like this since my 20s.” Eddie pauses, thinking about his sex life back then. “I’m not even sure I fucked like this in my 20’s, to be honest.”
Steve lets out a laugh, shoving Eddie for good measure. Of course, being men, they both skip over the fact that yes, Eddie has had wedding bells in his head enough to start looking at rings…and go for the sex talk.
“Okay, sex aside. Tell me about her.”
It takes only five minutes of Steve listening to Eddie ramble on about you to realize it absolutely was the real deal. No mid-life crises here. Eddie seemed calm and laxed, whereas his ex always made him wired. For the record, Steve never quite liked her. She had Eddie looking like a wet chihuahua, yapping at every drop of a hat. Steve was a little relieved when she left, ‘cause no one could convince Eddie she was not good for him.
Turns out he just needed to wait a few years. 15, in fact.
-
You wake up to the feeling of Eddie’s hand on your cheek, carefully petting you as he places gentle kisses on your lips. “Baby.” He mumbles, causing you to stir. “Baby, wake up.”
As you start to wake up, you become increasingly aware that he was lying right behind you. “Mmm.”
“C’mon, we’re going out for supper with Steve, you have to get up.”
Still reeling from the dream that you were just ripped out of, you arch your back slightly, grinding your ass against Eddie’s instantly-hardening cock. You hear a sharp inhale, Eddie’s grip on your hip intensifying. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we literally don’t have time.” Eddie comments, his forehead falling onto the back of your head in an act of self discipline.
You frown, giving a good hip swivel. “We always have time.”
“Not today, you don’t! Get up!” You pop awake, aware of Steve’s presence in the hallway as he overshadows Eddie, waking you up more fully.
“He knows me enough to know I’d try to sneak something in.” Eddie murmurs, as not to be heard.
You turn around in your bed, now lying face to face with him, a devious smile creeping on your face. “So, sneak something in.”
Eddie’s brows lift at your suggestive tone. “Fuck.” He mutters, crawling out of bed before you could give his neck one of those licks that just melts him into a puddle. “C’mon baby. Get all dressed up, meet you downstairs by 8:30.”
Your teeth grit together, grabbing your phone that was tossed haphazardly aside when you fell asleep. The screen illuminates itself and your eyes widen when you realize you only have…fifteen minutes to get ready. Well, why didn’t he just say that?
You rush into your closet, and for the first time, the amount of clothes you now own settles in. How the fuck are you ever getting ready ever again? You go to the dresses, skimming through the more family friendly options. You trail over each hanger one at a time until you reach the right one. Some light makeup is done, a five-minute routine.
You finally reach the bottom step at 8:29 pm, all the guys sitting on the couch watching the tv. “Ready!”
Eddie glances at you and breaks into a smirk. “You look great, sweetheart.”
Your face heats up as you find a pair of shoes that won’t make you hate yourself. You smile, recalling your afternoon in the crowded dressing room. “Thanks, Ed.”
Meanwhile, Steve takes only two seconds as he witnesses this interaction to realize. “No. Go change.”
“W-what?” You stutter, not used to Steve’s blunt stature.
“I-just-just go change. I don’t need to be watching this all night!”
“Fine.” You roll your eyes, kicking your shoe off to put on a dress that Eddie didn’t salivate over that very afternoon.
“Wait, what? What was wrong with the dress?” Dylan asks Steve, not having a clue as to what just transpired.
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”
“Hey, Dyl, you remember that green little dress that she had?” Eddie asks, recalling it on his carpeted floor earlier that day before he burned it.
Dylan smiles, then recalls what was so special about the dress. “Oh.” He mumbles, now feeling uncomfortable.
“I think she’s overwhelmed with choices, which is why she picked the dress in the first place. I’ll go help. Meet you there.”
-
Steve put up a fight on just meeting you there, but one on one time with his boy is something he wouldn’t pass up. Especially when he talks about a girl the way he did about Maya.
Eddie didn’t give Steve much of an option, still trying to get rid of the hard on that he had. He bursts through the bedroom and closet door, and as he does so, the front door slams shut. Eddie walks in to you staring aimlessly in your underwear at the dresses, not knowing which one to put on. Eddie comes from behind you, placing his stubbly chin onto your shoulder. “What’s up, baby?” He asks, casually drifting your underwear down your legs.
You sigh, the trail of his fingertips sending shivers up your spine. “You got me too many dresses.”
“No, I didn’t.” Eddie says, you hear and feel behind you as he lets his own pants drop. “Bend a little bit.” He whispers as you feel his hard cock against your ass.
You do, lifting your ass up at an angle where he can slide right into your folds. He does, arms drifting below your torso and up to play with your tits as he fucks you from behind.
“I got the perfect amount for my sweet baby.” He mutters into your ear, both his hands doing things to your tits that make you whimper. “Love to spoil my beautiful girl.”
“Fuck, daddy.” You whine, your heat already so goddamn hot. “Help. Can’t decide on a dress.”
“Here.” Ed pauses, causing you to whine, but puts a dress in front of you. “Wear this one for daddy.”
“O-ok.” You stutter, barely paying attention to it. “Love you, daddy.”
“I love you,” he kisses your neck, wet and sweet, “so much, pretty baby.” You turn your head to face him, leaning in for a delicate kiss, your pussy clenching around him as you do.
You lean onto the white walls separating each compartment of the closet, closing your eyes as he fucks into you. “Daddy,” you whine, and he pulls your hair gently in response, bringing your head back to his.
“Yes, baby?”
“You’re so good to me, I’m so-so close.” You pant, giving him lustful eyes.
“Cum with me,” Eddie mutters, having been close himself a few times. He leans down, rubbing at your clit. You cum around him hard, yelling his name.
He catches your lips in a kiss when he cums, so you have no idea what he said.
He lets you catch your breath, wrapping his arms around you protectively until you let him know you’re okay. “Thank you, baby.”
“Oh that was just a spur of the moment, I just got lucky.” He jokes, bringing up the dress to you to get redressed.
“You think Steve—”
“Oh, I guarantee Steve already knows.” Eddie interrupts your worry, that Steve knew you were hooking up. “Just had to be sneaky.”
You put yourself in the dress, staring at it in the mirror. Okay, Eddie is seriously good at picking things that fit you well. Damn. “Let’s go baby.”
“Fuck, with you in that dress I’ll be gunning for round two all night.”
“Then we better go so we can come back and do it!” You assert playfully.
“Fuck, I love you.”
-
As you and Eddie sit down at the table where your ice cubes are already melted with the water droplets making a pool on the table, Steve doesn’t say a word, but the look he gives says enough. If he’s your boyfriend’s best friend, how come he already has the ability to make you feel like you had disappointed him?
The restaurant is a steakhouse, something worth dressing up for, but not like the one Eddie took you to. Steve managed to talk about all his kids, describing each one of the four and their distinct personalities to you.
Arlo is apparently a near carbon copy of his father, only differing on a few personality quirks here and there. He was in every sense of the word the eldest Harrington, making a reputation for the Harrington children to live up to at the daycare, elementary school and finally, but most importantly, high school. Considering Steve raised his kids in Hawkins, Arlo knew the expectations for him and met them, tenfold. Steve never says it, but you can tell he’s so proud of how cool his kid turned out to be. Apparently, though they were closest in age, Dylan was closer to Nicky than to Arlo.
Nicky was the middle child for most of his life. He still considers himself to be, despite getting a younger sister four years ago. He had found himself gravitating towards the arts, and Steve found himself with a kid who spent his early mornings watching broadway bootlegs and collecting song books. This turned him into somewhat of a ladies’ man like Arlo, his baritone vibrato beautifully toned as he starred in most of his school musicals. Someday, Arlo wants to enroll in a drama school, and Steve still isn’t sure how he feels about it.
Dustin is the third child, and for a while, the baby. It’s explained to you that Dustin is named after a mutual friend, someone younger than both Eddie and Steve, someone they took under their wing and mutually adopted. When Dustin’s name was announced, Steve and his wife made sure he was in the room, so for the first hour of Dustin Harrington’s life, he was unnamed. Tears streamed down Dustin’s, (the original), face when he realized that Steve had named his child after him. Immediately, Dustin was his. Because of Dustin Henderson, Dustin Harrington is a complete dork. He’s completely invested in Star Wars, has built his own Magic the Gathering deck, used to spend weekends on Skype for DnD sessions with Uncle Eddie, and has even been to a convention or two.
Basically, none of his boys were the same.
You resented little Eliza coming up in conversation, only for the sake of her photos enticing some sick and cruel twist of fate.
Eliza, however, is the apple of everyone’s eye, and the darling of the Harrington family. She’s a handful, to say the least, a stubborn personality and even worse temperament. Steve swears he thought her toddler years were a handful; until she reached the independent thinking stage. Now, she wants everything, but she never wants help. Her three brothers are fiercely protective of her, each in their own ways, on top of having her dad, her uncle Eddie, and a few names that aren’t familiar to you (note: ask Eddie who ‘Hopper’ is), she’s got the world wrapped around her pinky.
Steve is at the end of a tale of chasing little Eliza around the mall, having slipped his grip in a quick getaway, creating havoc as she clutched a teddy bear that wasn’t paid for. He laughs fondly, describing how she evaded three security guards attempting to aid Steve in his mission, finally catching her when she was hungry enough to decide to end the chase.
You all sit with your food in front of you, chuckling at Steve’s well-told story. “Man,” Eddie starts, mouth still full. He waits until he swallows to continue, “I don’t know if I could have a toddler now. Especially if they’re as wild as Dylan was.”
“Hey!” Dylan calls, gesturing to himself. “I’m right here!”
“No offense, kid, but you were a menace. I looked away for two seconds once and found you on the roof with an umbrella to see if it would work as a parachute.”
“You remember what you told me?” Dylan challenges him, leaning onto his elbows on the table. “Hmm? You tell her what you told me.”
You perk up, leaning into Eddie. “Well, I came out and asked him what he was doing. He said he wanted to see if it worked.”
“And…you said?” Dylan asks, eager to get to the punchline.
“I told him to try it then and see how it works out for him!”
“So, I did!” Dylan exclaims, exasperated.
“What?” You exclaim, and the three men around you nod their heads solemnly, all having heard this story several times before.
“I didn’t know he was actually going to do it!” Eddie laughs, defending himself at your bug eyes aimed at him.
“You’re my dad, I trusted you had my best interests at heart!”
“How you didn’t know sarcasm before that is beyond me…” Eddie mutters, shaking his head fondly at his son. “That story was used against me several times in court, too.”
“They tried to make him out to be a terrible parent. I was pissed.” Dylan explains, and your heart melts over it. “I maintained that even though I had a cast for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I didn’t learn my lesson. Don’t jump off the roof. You will get hurt. That’s what my dad was telling me before he dared me.”
You intertwine your fingers with Eddie’s, smoothing his thumb with your own. There’s a nagging in the back of your mind as you recall his claims of being too old for a toddler, a slight disappointment. You shove it far, far back into your brain, not wanting to dissect that. “So, you staying the night, or?” You ask Steve.
“No thanks, Dylan has made it clear that you two are insatiable.” He says, toying with his food. “He has told me every story where he has caught you, even the ones you don’t know about.” He pauses, giving Eddie a resigned glance across the table. “Freaks. The both of you.”
Your phone buzzes on the table, and you reach for it momentarily to check out the text from Bethany. As your attention is stolen, Eddie mouths over you, Jealous? Steve spurts out a laugh, as if the idea is so absurd. Your head shoots up, Bethany’s text is fresh on your mind. “Baby, can…can I take a picture of your hand?”
“Uh, sure.” Eddie agrees, placing his hand out from your grip and onto the table. “What for?”
“For my Insta,” you answer, somewhat preoccupied by getting a good angle while making his hand intertwined with yours look natural.
“Oh, soft launch?” Dylan comments, and you snap your fingers in confirmation.
Eddie chuckles, all the words coming out of you and Dylan sounding like a different language. “What?”
“Okay, so it’s not just me!” Steve laughs, holding his chest dramatically. “Seriously, what are you two on about?”
Dylan answers before you can– you’re still trying to get a good angle of his hand holding yours on the table. “It’s posting an update to your relationship status without giving a name to the person. It’s telling the world you’re taken, but not by who. Usually in case they break up, but I don’t think it’s why she’s doing it.”
“No, Eddie has no social media and I know…” you pause, leaning back to take one more, “that he wants to keep it that way, so, I’m showing him off in my own way.” You glare at your phone, swearing softly when it still doesn’t look right.
“For fucks’ sake, let me,” Dylan snatches your phone and gets up from the booth, squats and places the phone as if you were the one taking it yourself, snaps a photo, and tosses the phone back to you. “There.”
The phone falls past your hand and into your lap. You gently pick it up, assessing the photo in your recents. Damn. It was the exact vibe you were looking for. “Well, thanks.”
Dylan shoots an eye roll back, his heart not really in it.
“Let’s see?” Eddie asks, leaning into you, resting his chin against the strap of your dress on your shoulder. You’ve already captioned and posted the photo onto your Instagram, so you let him view the screen. He lets out a chuckle, a wide grin appearing on his face. “I like the photo, but what does the caption mean? Greater than what?”
Caption reads, ‘Him>’.
“Oh, it just means you’re ‘greater than’ everything else. There is no one thing to put because it would be useless.” You explain, turning your phone off and placing it face down on the table.
Eddie shifts the two of you so he can see your face, eyes switching between yours as he assesses you. You look up at him, curious to what could possibly be on that brain of his. “You think I’m greater than everything else?”
Of course you’ve seen it plastered on social media sites, somewhat of a common way to refer to your personal opinion of something. It’s so normalized, and you figured it was a simple way to announce that you were taken by the finest man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You nod, “Of course!”
His hand frames your face and suddenly his lips are on yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as the kiss and the pure love you feel in his reaction makes you feel like you’d be knocked off your feet if you weren’t already sitting down. Your limbs catch up and one hand lands on his thigh, ignoring the subtle heat you feel pooling in your cunt.
Steve and Dylan are forgotten as you get caught up in a frenzy, lips locking with a level of need for one another that would give any other person envy over the display of passion. Dylan has gotten used to it, you two were in the habit of kissing one another like this often. Steve takes a large sip of his bourbon, leaning back in his booth and leaning right to him. “So, this—”
“Yeah, that’s normal.” Dylan tells him.
“Jesus, I thought you were exaggerating.” Steve pauses, moving his plate away from him, all done. “Thought he was exaggerating.”
“Exaggerating what?” Dylan asks, afraid of the answer.
Steve smirks, taking another sip of his drink. “Just drink your apple juice.” He nods to Dylan’s beer; Dylan shoves his shoulder fondly in response. Steve takes one last big swig of his drink, gesturing to the waitress across the room for her assistance. “Hey. You two. Take a breather.”
Your kisses haven’t gotten any more intense, though his hand placed gently on your thigh was a tease. You could make out with him for hours, knowing your limits in the restaurant booth. Eddie finally pulls back, kissing you delicately a few times on the lips as to not leave you hanging, leaving you reeling when the server stops by.
“Just the check, please.” Steve tells her, smug.
The waitress nods, grabbing plates when the four of you insist you’re all done with your food. Steve and Eddie end up telling a story from their early 20’s when they were both single, finishing each other’s sentences as they remind each other how unruly they were back then. Your eyes flick back and forth between them, something clicking.
“Hmm.” You muster, letting yourself think about it.
“Yes, baby?”
You zone back in, blinking as you realize the three of them are staring at you expectantly. You hadn’t even realized you hummed out loud. “Oh, nothing.” But he’s not budging. None of them are. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”
Still no dice.
You lean forward towards Dylan, who sits across from you, lowering your voice. “Do you want to be traumatized by your dad’s sex life?” He shakes his head, the smile leaving his face. You lean back, satisfied. “Then don’t worry about it.”
“For the record, I think you mean more traumatized.” Dylan mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. You kick his shin underneath the table, light enough to hurt but not do anything. You giggle at his reaction, leaning into Eddie’s arm as it snakes around your own.
Your phone buzzes, another text from Bethany. You smile as you check it, content in Eddie’s arms as the waitress comes around again with the bill. Steve hands her a card as he watches Eddie speak softly to you, nothing important, just something causing you to giggle. He feels confident in his own marriage, a love that gave him four kids with a stable home to drive back to. It just made him happy to see Eddie in a relationship where it’s clearly reciprocated.
As Eddie whispers to you, you can barely take in the words Bethany has texted you, but what she has to say to you is seemingly important, your phone buzzing repeatedly in your hands. You allow your eyes to focus back on them and the all-caps of her texts become clear.
CHECK YOUR INSTA
HELLO???
BABE
HELLO
GO CHECK IT YOUR POST ALREADY HAS OVER 500 LIKES
BITCH IT’S AT ONE THOUSAND
HELLLLOOOO
“Oh, shit.” You switch apps to make sure it’s true. In your notifications, there are over 300 comments and more likes than Bethany had claimed, 1.5 thousand. By no means is it viral, but most of your posts got no more than 100 due to your circle of friends in the app being so small. “Holy shit.” There are several comments praising Eddie’s hand, even some drool emojis. The only solace you can give yourself is that you now know you are never exposing his face. “Um, Ed. Your hand has gotten attention.”
He leans over, seeing the amount of engagement on your post. “Cool.” He comments, the numbers not meaning much to him.
“I could’ve told you that much.” Steve laughs.
You peer at him questioningly, silently asking what he meant by it.
“Listen, the ladies in Hawkins are…what is it…thirsty?” He checks with Dylan. Dylan chuckles and confirms it. “Yeah, okay, thirsty. They are mad thirsty over Eddie. If I accidentally mention that the Munsons are coming into town, it becomes town gossip. It’s like Billy Hargrove all over again, except this time it’s age appropriate.”
You turn back to Eddie, serious as you can be. “You’re never going back.”
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a hug. “We’ll talk about it.”
-
As you walk towards the front door of the restaurant, the sun has set on another day. Eddie’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, and Steve calls out to Eddie as he leads you to his truck, drawing your attentions. “Munson!”
Eddie turns around, the use of his last name certainly grabbing his attention. They quit using last names on one another years ago. The last time Eddie fully recalls being called Munson by Steve; Steve was pulling at his hair… “You rang, Harrington?”
“Can I steal your girlfriend for a drive?” He asks, sending a smile your way.
“Uh,” Eddie looks at you, making sure you’re comfortable with it. You nod your head, sharing a look with him. “Sure. Have her back within the hour, though.”
“Yes, sir.” Steve jokes, laughing to himself when Eddie subtly grits his teeth, and a pink blush reaches his cheeks. “C’mon, I don’t bite.”
You give your boyfriend a hug, embracing his kiss of safety and comfort. “Love you.” As you walk the steps toward Steve, Eddie tugs you back by your fingertips, one last kiss for good measure.
“Love you more.” He mutters, and for a second you believe him. Oh, to follow him into his truck and ride with him in a comfortable silence on the way back.
“Come on! One hour won’t kill you.” Steve grabs your hand before you can register, leading the way to his SUV.
Dylan passes you on the way to his dad, waving cheekily on the way and you flip him off.
You get into the dark blue SUV, a Range Rover, no less. It’s evident he has a four-year-old with the car seat and the mess in his back seat, but you know that if he didn’t have Eliza, the brown interior would’ve been spotless. Steve turns down the radio he had blasting, turning his iPhone connection on. “Ready for some oldies?”
“You and Eddie. Terrible, the both of you.” You mutter, shaking your head.
Steve laughs, pulling out of the parking lot and turning the opposite way of Eddie’s (yours too) house. “Don’t worry, just taking the long way.” He assures you after he sees you staring wistfully off at Eddie’s tail lights.
It’s about five minutes of silence until Steve talks again. “So, I just wanted to apologize about earlier, I was…I was shocked. When you opened the door, I didn’t know who you were, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the answer I got. Can you tell me your version of how you two got together? I didn’t want Eddie interjecting.”
“Oh.” You clear your throat. “Uh, Dylan forgot a parking pass on our way to the beach, so he stopped by the house to look for it. Eddie comes down, sweats low on his hips and hair still wet from his shower, and I could barely focus on anything else around me. I should’ve broken up with Dylan the moment I got to his truck.” You tell him, making sure Steve knows full well that you are still apologetic about the cheating.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s all fine and dandy. As far as Dylan is concerned, it hurt, but it’s long gone in his mind. Trust me. Any hesitation is aimed at Eddie, and for good reason.” Steve reassures you, feeling your defense build. “Don’t worry. Just tell the story.”
“Okay. I didn’t end it because I was afraid he’d lash out and it would’ve been forever before getting ahold of Eddie again. I couldn’t risk it, so I stayed. It lasted until that weekend, when I was doing horny things in the living room with Dylan just because Eddie was home. Maybe he’d hear something, maybe he’d look…maybe he’d watch…” You drift off, remembering the sheer urgency you had for him. “I wore skimpy outfits, I bent over around the house, I was fully prepared for Eddie, and to be honest, I was too hormonal to care or understand the repercussions.” You glance out the window, lights blinding you as you pass each neon sign. “So, we hooked up. After spending more time with him, I realized how much I had already cared about him. Now, Steve, now, I love that man so goddamn much.”
Steve smiles at you as he drives, his head waving with the bumps in the road. “Where do you see this going? For your future? In the long term, are you willing to accept that his body will give out a lot earlier than yours?”
A knot forms in your stomach in the shape of a confession. You switch your glance to Steve, and you feel safe with him. Not like Eddie, no. It was like he would never tell your secrets, or like he’d protect you. “Uh, this evening, I had the terrifying displeasure of realizing one day I’d want kids with him. One day, after he marries me and tells the whole world who I belong to, I want to have his baby. I want to raise a baby into a handful of a toddler into a snarky teenager. I thought I was totally in the clear for kids with him, but you showed him the video of Eliza and now it’s…I can’t get rid of it. So, thanks for that, Steve.” Admitting to this, out loud even…it’s too much. “I want to spend my life with him.”
You wait for an answer, somewhat on edge as you fiddle with your fingers. “And you’re okay with the knowledge that you will bury him one day?” Steve pressures on, and you respect it.
“I’ve accepted the realities, yes, which is why I’m not telling him I want kids. He said he’s too tired. I can’t force that on him.”
A full belly laugh escapes Steve as he shakes his head. “If you told him that you want a baby, he would absolutely give you one without a moment’s hesitation. I have never seen him like this, not even with his ex.” He pauses, thinking on how to tell you. “Listen, I don’t know if you know much about her, but Eddie’s ex was not all that…kind to him.” He chooses his words carefully. “He was into her from the get-go, but it was obvious he was more into her. Eventually, when Eddie realized she was cheating, he called me, panicking about losing Dylan.
“I sent my best lawyer to him. Less than a week later they have court dates for custody hearings. Honestly, she was angry she was caught and angry she wasn’t the one to file. I think it took her being angry and belligerent in court for Eddie to finally see who she was. The judge was patient, more than she should’ve been. When she didn’t listen to the judge’s warnings, Eddie was granted everything he wanted. He thought it was a goddamn miracle, the only two things he wanted were the shop and Dylan. The shop had people’s livelihoods; it was their only income. Dylan just wanted to be with his dad, he made that very clear.
“Once the dust settled, it sank in. He called, finally, crying on the floor of the closet. He had spent all year on it just for her to only have it for a handful of months. It was a labour of love for him, and it turned out she was sleeping with someone else the entire time.”
Your teeth grit, fucking seething for Eddie. If either Eddie or Steve knew what was good for her, they’d never tell you her name.
“I came immediately, bringing Arlo and Nick to help cheer him up. Nick was only about 2, so he would’ve done more cheering in the way that toddlers do. But even Arlo knew something was up so it’s the one and only time he’s ever played DnD and fully embraced it. When Nick went to bed, the four of us all played together.” Steve observes your body language, your jaw locked and fists clenched. You’re so angry for him. He decides to omit the fact that after the kids went to bed, Eddie was inconsolable in his heartbreak. Steve knows it might come out one day, but that was not the point of this discussion.
“I promise, I didn’t tell you to make you mad, I just need you to know that Eddie will love you selflessly and wholly, because he doesn’t have it in himself to love any other way.” He slows to a stop at a red light, turning his head to face you. “I was very worried at first, but man, I couldn’t have been more wrong.”
The question still echoes in your mind, but the answer is starting to lean towards a yes. “How did you guys become friends?” You ask instead, leaning away from your boyfriend’s heartbreak and his bitchy ex.
“That… is a very long story.”
“Eddie gave you an hour, of which you’ve only used 15 minutes.” You point out, smirking.
“Alright, buckle up. It’s Hawkins, Indiana. 1996. Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson is missing.”
-
Steve was right, the story of their friendship was a long one. He didn’t necessarily dive into the nitty gritty, just implied he was falsely accused in a situation where he had no alibi and helped him out. One day, years later you would finally feel comfortable asking and Eddie would get into the full details of the Upside Down.
Steve brought you home with ten minutes to spare, you cling to Eddie as soon as you see him. The unresolved lust from earlier on top of the empathy for how hard it must’ve been for him drove your need for him, just you and him. “Can’t wait any longer.” You whisper, fingers digging into the now open button up shirt he wore to dinner and fisting the material into a ball with your hands.
You feel a huff of silent laughter come from him, a long sigh leaving his lips as he considers his options. It’s only 11 o’clock. Usually, when Steve is in town he stays for hours into the night to talk and laugh together. Dylan started a habit of joining their conversations as he got older. He knows it’s what they’re expecting, and he knows exactly what you need. He lifts your face with his hands. “Go get dressed into something more comfortable. Be right up.”
You nod, feeling sleepy, and for once, not conscious of the audience you held with him.
As you run upstairs, Eddie turns to Steve. “You and Dylan go to your hotel room. I’ll meet you there. Later.”
Steve’s eyebrows raise. “Didn’t you say you were exhausted?”
“I could just stay home all night. I have no problems with that.” Eddie bites back, a tone of endearment at the root of it.
Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. God, I miss when you were single,”
Dylan and Steve leave for the hotel room, the two shooting teasing glances at Eddie.
You lay on your side of the bed, scrolling on your phone but only paying the littlest attention. Eddie opens the door, his long legs take him to the bed quickly as he lies right next to you. You immediately crawl into his arms, the phone forgotten. Your chest feels tight as you mentally go over what Steve told you, the way his ex treated him. There’s no way it was true, because Eddie ever feeling like he deserved any of it was too much for you to bear.
Eddie feels the shift in you, something’s different. It isn’t one of your normal hugs. Your arms are wrapped around his, as if you’re sheltering him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, brows furrowed as he notes your quickened breathing and heart rate. You’re lying down; you should be far more relaxed.
“Steve…Steve told me more about your ex, and it made me sick to my stomach.” You admit, not wanting many secrets between the two of you. You’re already harbouring one, you don’t need another. “I don’t know how anyone could possibly treat you like that.”
Eddie’s eyes well and he looks up, trying not to let a tear fall from the tone of your voice or how genuine you sound in your anger for him. “It’s ancient history, now, baby.”
“Doesn’t make it right.” You counter, hands squeezing him. “I love you more than I can even conceive. More than I can wrap my head around… I can’t stand the thought of you being heartbroken because that bitch decided someone building her a closet wasn’t good enough for her.”
Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how loved you just made him feel, and how in your own way, you just told him he would be just as protected as you are by him. You would stand up for him the same way he would for you. He doesn’t have the words or the strength to hold back the tears, so he leans in and kisses you, really kisses you.
As his lips meet yours, you taste the salt of his tears and lightly use your thumbs to brush them away. He climbs on top of you, brushing his hand under your PJ shirt, testing the waters. You guide his hand to your tit, aching for him to touch you for what felt like hours. Your kisses are slow and purposeful, the stream of the salt still coming, and you ignore it for the sake of his hand feeling so goddamn good on your nipple as he teases you. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about them, anyway. Your mouth opens against him as he flicks it, whimpering.
You wrap your legs around his hips, unwinding them from between his legs and his bulge presses into your covered heat immediately. You kiss down his jaw, gently decorating his neck with wet kisses as you kiss away the salt that streamed down his face. Your hand moves down to palm him through his slacks, a whimper leaving him. “Do…do you want to?” You check, slightly stroking him through his jeans.
He sniffles, bunching up your shirt to help it off. “Yes. Sorry, I can’t handle strong emotions, they…overwhelm me.”
“I’ll handle them for the both of us.” You offer.
Eddie is a mess already, and he tugs on you to kiss you some more. “I didn’t know I could love someone this much.” He mutters, gulping through his kisses.
You don’t answer him, grabbing at his shirt to take it off. As the shirt flies off, his chest comes full contact with yours and you arch your hips up to meet his, the bulge hitting your heat almost too perfectly. You grind on it, needing him now, wanting to feel all of him.
Eddie reads your mind, tearful but still in tune with everything your body needs from him. His hands move your pants down your legs, placing kisses down your torso as he does. He crawls back up to you, taking his own pants off as he continues to wantonly kiss you. Before you know it, you feel his cock against your thigh as he presses your legs into your stomach.
Eddie leans into you, connecting your foreheads. You frame his face, staring at his wet brown eyes. “Please baby.” You kiss him, your hips barely able to stay still. “I love you, I fucking need you.”
“I know.” He mumbles, nodding his head. He guides his cock into you, pushing in gently but deeply into you within seconds. Your legs tighten around his torso, your pussy sucking him in. “Christ.”
His face finds itself in your neck, giving sweet kisses up and down as he starts to move his hips. You hold onto him, hands wrapped around his torso, spread-out palms down on his back. His hips rock so slowly, taking in every inch of your pussy he possibly can. His forehead finds yours again and his eyes open and stare into yours. His mouth is parted, his cheeks are flushed, and no longer wet. Somewhere in the midst he stopped crying, but the emotions he felt were still there. “Feels good?”
You nod, breath hitching by the sheer emotion you see in his eyes. “So good, baby.”
He smiles softly, staring at you half lidded. “Don’t want it harder?” He teases, bucking his hips hard once before moving back to his soft pace.
The buck releases a loud cry of pleasure from you, not expecting it. “Fuck, Ed. Can you do that again?”
Eddie smiles wider. “Mmhm.” He bucks into you harder again a few times, and your eyes close immediately, the heat from your pussy starting to pool. “Oh my god, Eddie.”
“More?” He asks, slowing his hips again. “My love, if you want me to fuck you harder, you need to tell me.”
“Fuck me harder, Ed. Please.”
Eddie chuckles softly, stopping his movements altogether to give you a kiss, taking your breath away by the love in it. “Sure thing, baby.”
Before you know it, his hips start at an unforgiving pace, the force takes you aback so badly, you moan loudly at every buck, every rut of his hips against yours. His thumb connects to your neglected clit, and the subtle heat explodes into a frenzy. Eddie feels your velvet walls pulse around him as you get closer. “I wanna feel that perfect pussy cum all over my cock.”
“Eddie, so close…love you so much…” you’re seeing stars, your legs tense around him. He leans down to you, giving your torso one long lick down your tummy and, oddly enough, it was the final thing to drive you over the edge.
Your pussy tightening around him does it for Eddie, watching your face as your orgasm rips through you, filling you up with his cum, white ropes shooting into you. He collapses on your chest, the physical exhaustion from the day mixed with the added exhaustion from emotionally breaking down finally piling on him. “Sweetheart, I love you. So fucking much. I just…can’t believe how much better you’ve made my life.”
“I love you.” Your entire body wraps around him, holding him close to you. “Do you have to go?”
“Would you like to come with me?”
You nod your head, knowing full well you’ll probably fall asleep on the couch in Steve’s hotel room.
“Alright, let’s go.”
-
Eddie scratches his head while working on some paperwork in his work office, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose as he goes through some numbers. One of the things he hates about owning a business is the math part of it. Luckily, he’s good at math, it’s just when the numbers suddenly go negative, it creates an issue.
His phone sitting on the desk starts to ring and he picks it up, expecting it to be you, but instead he’s met with an unknown number. Eddie sighs and reluctantly answers. It could be a customer with a new number for all he knows.
Wrong. Dead wrong.
“Eddie Munson speaking.” He answers, scanning over another invoice.
“Why the fuck are you dating a 25-year-old?” It occurs to Eddie this phone number has an area code from Boston…which is where she moved to. Fuck.
“Hi, Brooke.” He sighs, tired.
“Yeah, yeah. When and why the fuck are you dating some little hot piece of ass? You know she’s probably a gold digger, right? This morning she posted a selfie from my closet and it looks like she’s already moved in?”
“We met through a friend” Eddie wraps his head in his hands, wondering what the hell he ever saw in her craziness. “Wait, why am I telling you this, what fucking nerve do you have to call me and accuse my girlfriend being a gold digger?! How the fuck did you even find out?”
“Her little Instagram post with you two holding hands, which by the way, was cheesy and not in a good way. It got a lot of attention and Laura recognized your hands immediately and sent me the post.”
Fucking Laura. “Good for you, you found her Instagram.” He sighs, leaning back in his office chair. “I owe you nothing, Brooke. Nothing. I’m not sure what you had expected from this conversation but I’m sure this wasn’t it. Oh, and Brooke? That’s not your closet, hasn’t been for 15 years. Don’t call me again or I'll get my lawyer.”
“Oh, calm down.” Brooke huffs, her voice agitated. As if her voice had any other tone. Eddie hears her muffle the speaker to her phone. “Boys, quiet down for five minutes? I’m on the phone!” There’s another shuffle of noise on the other end, then her voice is directed back at Eddie, “That won’t be necessary. I just need to make sure you know that she will ruin your life because she’s a little skank.”
“Talk about my wife that way again and you’ll be hearing from a lot more than just my lawyer, you absolute cunt.” Eddie hangs up on her, missing the satisfaction of slamming a phone on the receiver. He picks his work phone up and slams it down. There, much better.
Wait until Steve hears about this… Holy shit.
Wait until you hear about it. Oh, fuck.
-
Steve manages to stretch his visit for one more day, laying on the couch with you as you watch a movie he recommended to you. He lays down with his torso on the arm rest, legs resting on your lap. When his legs landed, you glared at him, asking if he had nowhere else to place them. Steve said in response, “Of course, I do! You’ll just hold them because you’re so nice.”
So, you do. The movie is called The Gentlemen, a fast-paced comedy about a drug lord attempting to sell his business and all the shenanigans that follow. You find yourself laughing with him, expecting some movie like The Godfather or Fight Club, though it came out only four years ago.
Eddie swings open the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly with a smirk on his face. “Oh my god, Steve. Oh my god.” Eddie came straight from work, the phone call not allowing his brain to go over another invoice, especially when the numbers didn’t make sense. He struts to the couch, lifts Steve’s legs and sits right next to you, placing Steve’s legs back on his lap. He places his arm around you, looking at Steve with a smirk plastered. “Steve. Oh, my god.”
“Ed?” You ask, taking in his flustered features. Not flustered in the way you’re used to, but flustered nonetheless. “Everything okay?”
He nods his head, an incredulous laugh escaping as he does. “Oh, yeah. Totally okay. Got a phone call today.” You and Steve share a look of concern over his shoulder. “From Brooke.”
Now, this name means nothing to you. But from Steve’s reaction, in a split second you realize it’s the name of the woman you have grown to viscerally hate. “No way. What…what did she say?”
“She found Y/N’s Instagram post from last night and recognized my hand.” Eddie says, squeezing your shoulder. “She uh, then proceeded to insult me, insult her, and remind me how grateful I am she left me before I realized what a terrible person she is.”
“Anything else?” Steve asks, eyes wide. Brooke has literally been radio silent for years.
“Yeah, but nothing worth getting into.” Eddie comments, leaning into the couch, raising his eyebrows at Steve. Not something he wants to get into with you around, but definitely will with his best friend. “She sounded…jealous.”
“Jealous how?”
Eddie looks at you, twisting his body to face you. “Jealous of you. Out of line, absolutely, but jealous.”
The satisfaction that ripples through your body is simply too much. A woman took advantage of his kindness and left him for dead and now she’s jealous? Good. “Wait, she stalks my Instagram?”
“Uh, I suppose, yes.” Eddie answers, not so sure he understands the use of stalk.
“I could have some fun with this.” You mutter, thinking to yourself.
“Baby?” Eddie asks, slightly scared of the wicked smirk he sees displayed on your face.
“Hmm.” You mumble, opening your phone to your Pinterest app. “Yes?”
“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, talking low as he watches over your shoulder.
“Nothing. Just be ready for a picture when I need you.”
Eddie laughs, ready to calm you down a bit, but finds himself a little fearful of the plan in your mind.
You scroll through your Pinterest for about ten minutes while Steve and Eddie converse about the boys again. If you have learned one thing about Steve, it’s that his kids are his pride and joy. The conversation leads to Eliza, and you feel that pang in your stomach again. It’s getting harder to ignore as you watch Eddie’s face light up at the endless stories of the kids’ mischief.
Steve gets up from the couch, needing to use the bathroom. While he’s gone, you take advantage, finally having a moment to ask the question that’s been on your mind. “Hey, Ed.” You start, his head turning to face you, almost impossibly close.
“Yes, baby?”
Shit, his lips are so tempting. You sigh, ignoring the pull to his lips. “I just have a question, and please don’t be offended if the answer is no.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pleasantly surprised by your reaction to his ex-wife calling, so he’s certainly intrigued by what you’re about to say. “I make no promises.”
That’s not comforting. “Okay. Have you and Steve…did you guys ever hook up?” You ask, avoiding his eyes, which is impossible because they’re right there.
Eddie breaks into a smile followed by incredibly contagious laughter. You were certain you must’ve been dead wrong based on his laughter alone. You’re just reading into things that aren’t there. He finally stops, grabbing your face for a smiley, giggly kiss. You pull back, looking at him in confusion, as he laughs again. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out.” He says, eyes searching yours.
Oh, fuck. You were right! “Wait.” You say while giggling. “I…I was right?”
“Yeah.”
“When?!”
Eddie squints comically, looking up. “Uh, 27 or so years ago in Vegas.”
You squint back at the sheer cliché of it all. “Vegas? Really?”
“Well, we were both down on our luck, we thought, very drunkenly, might I add, a trip to Vegas would help. It certainly did the trick, I think.”
You laugh, the situation described much differently than what you had expected. “I bet it did.” You boop him on the nose as he scrunches it adorably.
Steve comes out from the bathroom and sees your silly display of love, jogging to the couch. “You guys are cavity inducing. Seriously.”
“Steve.” Eddie says, turning his head to face him. “She figured it out.”
Steve smirks, silently asking Eddie if he was talking about what Steve thought he was talking about. “Hmm?”
“Mmhmm.”
“No shit! What gave it away?” Steve asks, genuinely curious as he attempts to extend his legs onto Eddie’s lap again.
“No offense, you guys, but you both act like you have a secret with one another that you won’t share with the class. There’re only so many secrets that could be.” You offer an answer, and they seem to accept it…for the most part.
“What, we don’t give off two very straight dudes?” Eddie jokes, making you shove his shoulder.
“See, Dylan’s great, but I’ve been dying to ask since last night, and I wasn’t gonna ask with him around.”
Eddie chuckles, leaning in for one last gentle kiss. When he separates, he clutches onto Steve’s leg, startling him. “Sorry,” he laughs through his apology. “I have to take a shower then I have one more errand to run, and I need your help before you take off tonight.”
“Sure, dude. What do you need?”
You go back on your phone, checking your Pinterest and mostly tuning out the conversation, looking for subtle ways to show Eddie off on your Instagram that will piss Brooke off. Eddie nods his head to indicate it isn’t a conversation to be had around you, and you don’t even notice.
Steve nods in understanding, fist bumping Eddie as he runs around the couch and up the stairs. The silence that settles around you while he’s upstairs is comfortable, Steve paying attention to the movie as the plot thickens while you scroll through your phone and gather devious ideas. You barely notice the ten minutes pass by as Eddie comes back downstairs. You clock the scent of his freshly showered self, causing you to look up.
Eddie is wearing a pair of jeans and a button up loosely tucked in with a chain necklace. You pick your jaw off the floor, gulping as he walks up to you with a smirk on his face as he witnesses your very visible reaction. He lays a chaste kiss on your forehead and taps on Steve’s leg.
Steve gets up from the couch and Eddie grabs his keys. “Be back soon, baby!”
“Could you get some pop?” You ask him as he opens the front door.
“Baby, we have so much to drink that’s not gonna rot those pretty teeth. It won’t kill you to drink water.” He says, stopping in the doorway. You roll your eyes, tempted to order in from a convenience store if he was gonna be this stubborn. “If there’s pop here when I get home, you’re gonna see a consequence.”
“Yes, daddy.” You bite back. Well, if you order one drink and place it in the bottom of the recycling, he won’t see it, right?
“Hey. Drink some water. I mean it. Take care of yourself, for Christ’ sake.” He yells, hearing your eyes roll. “Love you!”
Eddie shuts the door, reminding himself to check the recycling when he gets home.
“Daddy, huh?” Steve asks, poking fun as they get into his truck.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” Eddie rolls his eyes, shoving the keys into the ignition. His hands move to put the vehicle in reverse when something occurs to him. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Uh, give me a sec.” Eddie brings out his phone, going through the 15 contacts, scrolls right to Maya. He rings it.
“…Hello?” Maya answers, sounding understandably perplexed.
“Hi, Maya, how would one know what kind of ring to get without asking the person it’s for?” Steve’s brows rais, the errand being ring shopping is news to him.
“Well… it depends. Do you want to buy her a ring just because…or are you shopping for,” she pauses, slowly saying it. If she was wrong, it could set off an alarm, “…an engagement ring?”
“Yeah, an engagement ring.” Eddie admits, saying it out loud feels crazy to him. “How would one figure that out?”
“Give me five minutes.” She says, and abruptly hangs up the phone.
As Eddie stares at his phone in bewilderment, Steve leans into him. “Engagement ring, huh?”
“Won’t be asking her until at least another few months, if I can even wait that long. I said something on the phone with Brooke today. It just came out.” Eddie offers, his voice soft as he explains to Steve what’s been invading his mind for the last hour. “Brooke went a bit far on the insults. She called her a skank.”
“How classy.” Steve offers dryly, his face suggesting it was anything but.
“I got so mad. I’ve never been as mad at her as I was when those words left her mouth. I said if she ever called my wife a name again, I would be calling more than just my lawyer.” He quotes himself, letting the word sink into Steve’s skin.
“Oh shit.” Steve mutters, the weight of the word kicking in.
“Yeah, it slipped out, but calling her my wife felt so damn good I couldn’t help myself. I’m not getting any younger.” Eddie pauses before saying anything else, the next confession might be too much to say out loud yet.
“C’mon. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?” Steve says, giving him some comfort.
“Her eyes when she looks at pictures of Eliza, or listens to stories about your boys, fuck I thought I never wanted another kid, but Jesus Christ, I need to see her face when she looks at one of ours.” Eddie admits out loud for the first time, the words scaring the shit out of him. Dylan in his 20s was exhausting. Could he handle another newborn? Another toddler? Another teenager?
Steve felt like he held all the power in knowing you two both wanted a kid. Feels like neither of you are ready to tell the other, so it’s a secret he’ll have to keep to himself for now. (If he’s strong enough.)
Eddie’s phone buzzes, a link appearing in a message from Maya. He opens it up and it directs him to your Pinterest page. Eddie wonders how Maya even found it. Your name isn’t connected to it. The link is specific to a board labeled Engagement Rings with a bunch of sparkle emojis surrounding it. Eddie looks at a few of them, screenshotting a handful to get the basic idea of what you’d want. He texts back Maya to thank her and puts his truck in reverse before Steve even knows what’s happening.
-
Eddie and Steve go through at least three jewelry stores before Eddie angers Steve at his indecisiveness. It isn’t that Eddie is indecisive, it’s that he’s hoping for a jeweler to look at the general vibe of your board and have the perfect ring to offer. Instead, Eddie’s met with vague indications of where he could look. These interactions all leave Eddie feeling frustrated as just walks out of the store for the next one only about ten feet away.
It takes Eddie a few tries until he finds the fairy godmother he’s been looking for, but finally he shows an engagement ring specialist the general aura of the rings you had saved, and she brings out four or five options that fall into the same category for Eddie to look at. Maybe Eddie could’ve been clearer with other stores of what he needed, but it felt as if they didn’t think he was going to buy one, anyway. Here, in this store, he feels like a respected customer, which goes a long way with him. In his shop, he spends his extra time making sure his men don’t treat any ladies like they know less just because they’re women. He hoped that even though he had a few faded tattoos and dressed alternatively, he’d be extended that same courtesy.
The helpful sales lady holds up each ring and explains to Eddie why she picked it in relevance to the photos you saved. Eddie sighs, each one in the right field, but not quite there. As she puts rings away to keep on looking, Eddie clutches onto the glass in frustration, feeling completely unprepared. Brooke basically gave him her ring and told him to propose when he had the balls. He wants you to love this ring, he wants to see it and know that it was made for you.
Maybe that’s too much to place on a ring. But for Eddie, just the simple prospect of searching for this ring means he has the hope that you will be his for the rest of his life.
Just when he’s ready to leave for the next store, she brings another one, a look on her face that tells Eddie she might’ve found exactly what he’s been looking for. She lays it out on a cloth, as Eddie marvels at it. It’s a thin, silver ring with four blue stones lined up along the band as the metal crosses over itself like vines. Eddie knows all of the jewelry you wear is silver, dainty, and has a few hints of blue. From the moment he sees it, he knows it’s the One.
Eddie holds it up for a few moments, circling it around in his hand. It takes all the self control in the world not to just head home and propose that night. He hands over a ring he took from the center console in your closet to the sales lady for your size. Within ten minutes, the papers are signed, the ring paid for, and Eddie walks out with a small white bag.
They get into the truck, the white bag small, yet significant as it sits in the back seat. “Well, that’s a step you’re taking.” Steve observes, carefully assessing his best friend’s emotional state.
“Mmhmm.” Eddie hums, staring at the bag in the rearview mirror. “And now, I’m fighting the urge to propose tonight.”
“Tonight?” Steve asks him, the speed of your relationship knocking him in the gut. “Let’s not scare her off. Plan a nice meal, set out a pretty dress on the bed for her. I bet she’d appreciate that.” Eddie considers this, knowing Steve is probably right.
So, now the ring sits in its box in the bottom of Eddie’s underwear drawer.
-
When Eddie and Steve get home, they find you on the couch napping while a movie neither of them has heard of plays on the TV, a bottle of nearly empty coke on the table next to it. Eddie sneaks upstairs to hide the evidence, the bag shoved into the bottom of a trash can, and the ring tucked safely away. When he comes back down, Steve is in the kitchen making himself a snack for the road while Eddie crouches in front of the couch to wake you up.
“Morning, baby.” He says in a low voice, petting your left cheek with his thumb.
Your breath hitches as you wake up, the last thing you remember is being giddy as you picked up your order from the front step with chips, candy, and a single bottle of pop. As you finished most of your snack, the movie started to matter less and less, a phenomenon that only occurs when you know that you’re about to pass out on the couch.
“There she is.” He mumbles as your eyes take in your surroundings. Him, the end of the movie you picked out, and the setting sun through the curtains. “Hi. I see we didn’t take my concern for the amount of pop you consume to heart?” He musters, gesturing to the side table.
You stretch, every muscle in your extended limbs feeling it. “You made it pretty clear it was for my teeth.” You mumble, unable to prevent a smile at Eddie’s floored reaction.
“I see.” He mutters, and the smirk on his face is enough to send a thrill of fear through you. “C’mon, Steve is about to leave town. Let’s go say our goodbyes.”
He tugs on your hands, lifting you up off the couch, guiding you to where Steve’s packing a recyclable grocery store bag with snacks he found around the kitchen. He comes out of the kitchen clutching the bag, his brown eyes shooting a fond look to the both of you. “Sorry, guys. Gotta get to the actual purpose of my trip eventually.”
You squint at him, pretending to consider forgiving him. “I suppose we’ll forgive you. If… you bring Eliza next time.”
“Another one bites the dust.” Steve mutters under his breath, chuckling. Eliza Harrington really has the whole world wrapped around her little pinky. (And oh, boy, does she know it.) He grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you in close for a hug. “Take care of him, will ya?”
You nod into his bicep, the soft spot he had gained for you over the last two days taking you by surprise and vice versa for him. “You know I will.”
Steve can’t resist the joke. “Oh, I know you do.”
You hit him playfully, feeling the heat creep up on your cheeks.
Steve and Eddie share an even longer hug, something about saying goodbye to old friends is always hard, you know that. As they separate, still clutching each other, Steve says something under his breath that makes Eddie hit him harshly. “Steve.”
“What?”
“Dude. Subtlety?”
Steve chuckles as he picks up his bag of goodies. “If you two are one thing, it ain’t subtle.”
You’re left questioning what could’ve possibly warranted the reaction that Eddie let out as Steve and Eddie do a few more rounds of farewell. It never seems to end as they keep bringing up new topics with each step Steve makes toward the door. It reminds you of your mom at the grocery store when you were eight.
The door finally slams, Steve yelling an "I love you" while Eddie shouts “Yeah right!” He brings out his phone soon after, sending I love you, too to Steve as a text. Well, Eddie is realizing that a next time is never guaranteed.
The moment Steve’s SUV takes off, the low hum of the engine riding off to the end of the street, you turn back to the couch for a night in with Eddie. Alas, he has other plans. You lead him to the couch, holding his hand. Eddie tugs you back sharply, your limbs flailing as a result. “Woah, there, sweetheart.”
You give him a questioning look, wondering if you were just picturing his eyes darkening. “Hmm?”
“I asked you, very nicely, not to order pop. For one thing I think you drink too much of it, and for another there is water, juice, alcohol, even. Baby, I would just appreciate you taking my wishes into account.” His voice is serious, to a point that startles you. “So. As mentioned, there will be a consequence.”
“Like…like what?” You ask him, gulping as he traces his fingers along your collarbone so lightly you barely feel it.
He leans down, leaning into whisper, “Run.”
Your heart rate stutters as you turn away from him and run straight towards the basement, a place you know was once Dylan’s hangout spot, but now is just a dusty living room. Your feet trip over themselves as they run down the steps, pure panic and adrenaline coursing through your veins as you run to a guest room, hiding in the corner.
Upstairs, there are footsteps leading directly to the steps you just ran down. He fucking walks. He takes his time, step by step, and you can tell with each step as your heart rate picks up that he’s taunting you. He knows you’re in some corner somewhere, but he just doesn’t know which one. “Downstairs, huh? Didn’t see that coming.” Eddie admits, peering around each corner with his hands behind his back.
Fuck, you’re just a sitting duck here. You crawl up by the door, waiting patiently as he walks into the room right across from the one you’re hiding in. You make a quick run for the stairs, your breathing tight in your chest as you run, but for some reason, can’t recall why you’re running, you’re so fucking turned on right now. Your first few steps are loud and you curse out loud when suddenly Eddie’s feet are right behind yours, giggling with glee as you do.
Somehow, you make it up the steps and run straight to the kitchen, stopping at the island. He lands on the other side, his face hungry with want, his shirt untucked. There’s a wild look in his eye you can’t quite understand. You giggle as you attempt to go either way, realizing you’re stuck where you are.
“Oh, how is she gonna get out?” He taunts, watching you assess the situation.
Your instincts take over. You miraculously hop onto the island, using some sort of kicking method against the counter straight across and crawl into a dive for him, attacking his lips with yours. He accepts you without fail, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back hungrily. You place kisses down his neck, focusing on the one spot on his collarbone you knew he loved when you sucked on it.
“Like that.” You answer him, starting to run straight towards your bedroom.
Laughter like music to Eddie’s ears leaves your mouth as you reach the top of the stairs, and he books it straight after you, not waiting another second to chase you to where he suspects is either the hallway or your closet. You’re crouched down in the hallway, hoping he’ll go straight to the bedroom. He doesn’t, seeing you as soon as he rounds the corner.
He fists your hair at the crown and you help as he lifts you to your feet. “Looks like I caught ya.” He hums, his face watching you closely. His hands let go of you and he moves to kiss you again, his tongue feeling a sort of rough it hasn’t before. “Holy shit.” He mutters, guiding you so you’re up against the wall.
You kiss him back, and for what felt like the first time, you didn’t spend an ounce thinking about it, just giving in. “Ed.” You whimper, the heat between your legs now begging you to provide friction.
“Hmm?” Eddie asks, his hands moving roughly up and down your body. “What, baby?”
“Ed. Please.” You beg him, lifting your leg so you can at least feel his boner peeking at your clothed cunt.
“Nuh uh.” He tuts, lightly pushing on the knee. Your leg falls down, as well as your face. “You don’t get off until I tell you to. So, unless I move your leg, or remove your shirt, you just let me kiss you and respond. Got it?”
You gulp, nodding your head. “Yes.” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes faltering for a fraction of a second. “Eddie?” You ask, making sure he’s okay.
Eddie loves that you can pick up on this, even as he gives you new rules and a new playground to explore. “Do you mind just…doing one thing for me? It kind of stuck with me since you moved in.”
“What?” You ask, your heat still aching, but for the sake of his sanity and for his good graces, you attempt to stand still. (You’re terrible at it.)
“Call me sir?”
You reflect on moving day, the men calling him the name that so obviously gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Apparently, when you commented on it, you made an impact. “Yes, sir.”
“Holy shit.” Eddie hisses, marveling at you now, staring up at him through your eyelashes, waiting to be told what to do. “Now, be a good girl and bend over against the wall.”
“Yes, sir.” You tell him, turning around against the wall.
“No, actually.” He says, taking you by the hand and taking you downstairs. He guides your hips so you’re right in front of the kitchen sink and he bends you over. “Much better.”
He moves your sweats and panties down only to the middle of your thighs, bending on his knees as he admires the slick that has already gathered. “So wet.” He murmurs. You whimper as he barely dips a finger into your entrance, gathering some slick on his finger. He lifts it up to your mouth, “Open.” You do so without hesitation, licking your tongue all over the three knuckles he places in your mouth, tasting your own arousal. Without warning, he takes his finger out from your mouth and wipes it on your shirt. You waited for the praise that never came.
“Oh, now brats get praise for doing what they’re told?” Eddie asks, knowing exactly what you’re thinking as he pulls down his pants.
“No, sir.” You mutter, now craving that praise even more.
“That’s what I thought. Now be a good girl and take this for me.” It’s the only warning you get before he slides his cock in. Your feet are practically planted right next to one another so you start to open your stance to allow him to go in deeper. “Ah.” You freeze in place, realizing your mistake.
He places his hand around your neck and brings it back to him, your neck extended feeling both incredibly uncomfortable and hot. “What did you do wrong?”
“Move without your say so.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh, move without your say so, sir.”
“Here. If you ask, and I say yes, or, if I tell you to. That’s it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Eddie smiles down at your blown pupils and half open mouth. He was afraid he jumped in too deep and threw you into the bathwater, but he could feel your pussy tighten around him. You’re so into this. He gently kisses your forehead and lets go of your neck. He slides his cock in even more, and keep in mind, he hasn’t even started to fuck you, yet. He’s barely halfway in your pussy and holds onto your hips as he sees you start to squirm. “You need something baby?”
“Could you move please, sir? Just a little bit? Need it so bad.”
“Should’ve thought of that sooner, then baby.” He musters, sounding bored, though he’s anything but. “Here.” Without warning, Eddie moves his fingers against your clit and has you teetering the edge in mere minutes. You’re so close, you can see the edge. It’s right there.
He stops. He slides in a bit more into you as his mouth gets close to your ear, his breath giving you goosebumps. “Consequence.” He grunts out, his grip on your hips bruising.
Your knuckles are white as you hold onto the edge of the sink like a vice. It’s like you can taste it. He doesn’t move another inch, his heartbeat against your back and the only audible sound coming from you is your panting in need. Eddie pushes in the rest of his length and a second beautiful sound is added to the mix, one he couldn’t get enough of, even if he tried. Why would he ever try? The sound of your pussy as you gush around him is perfect. “Taking me so well.” Eddie mumbles as he places both of his hands over yours on the sink.
The whimper that leaves your throat forces its way out, your body is tense from doing everything you can not to swivel your hips or back yourself into him. “Baby, you’re so tense.” His arms flex along yours, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth. “Why, hmm?”
“You…you said not to move unless you say so.” You tell him, frustrated because, of course, he knows.
“Or, unless you ask to.” Eddie adds, his chin resting on that spot on your shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
“Sir, can I please move my hips?” You ask him, hoping he isn’t teasing you again.
“Of course, baby.” Eddie’s tone is sweet and endearing. What a goddamn liar he is.
The words are like music to your ears as you start to move your hips, testing the waters. When your movement isn’t met with any punishment, you start moving more frantically, fucking yourself on his cock. Eddie lets out a sigh of content, hands raking down your back to your hips, the palms rough against your bare ass. “Sir, can I please move my feet?”
“See? My good girl is catching on. Of course you can, baby.” He answers, a smile lacing his voice.
Giddily, you move your feet further apart. “Sir, please…please take my clothes off?” You ask, waistband restricting your legs. “Wanna feel you.”
Eddie’s hands move down the apples of your ass to the sweats that started moving down your legs from the impact of your ass that had just started bouncing on him. He kisses your clothed back as you step out of them, kicking the garment aside. You feel the cotton of your shirt move up your back, your arms lifting over your head to assist Eddie as he takes it off. His lips touch the bare skin of your back, his tongue sending ripples down your spine as you shiver under his touch. Eddie grunts as you continue to swivel your hips against him.
“Fuck.” Eddie grunts, watching your naked form wither against him. He can no longer fight the incessant need that’s grown while waiting for you to ask him for movement. His hips start mercilessly pounding into you without a hint of a warning. The moans that fall from your throat are uninhibited and radically full of relief. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for, baby?”
“Mmhmm.” You nod your head, curling over the sink as your arms give out.
Eddie slows down and takes himself out, and your hand moves to push yourself off the sink the littlest bit when you realize your mistake. “You can move.” Eddie smirks, noting your obedience. He’s still standing with his pants down to his calves and his shirt disheveled. He steps out from his pants, tossing the pair toward your pile of clothes. Then he goes down each button on his shirt, slowly exposing his chest to you. As his fingers move over each one, you eye his chest hungrily, aware he’s watching your face while you watch him.
The shirt falls down his arms with a slight flop as the material hits the floor. “Sir…” you gulp, the two of you staring at one another. “Sir, can I kiss you?”
Eddie smirks, nodding his head. You take the two steps toward him and your legs wrap around his hips as you hungrily kiss each other. He turns toward the kitchen island, a small yelp leaving your mouth as the cold granite counter hits the warm flesh of your ass cheeks. He guides his cock into you, slowly pushing into your heat, watching your face as your eyes roll back. “Feel good?”
You nod, a laugh escaping your lips.
“What’s so funny, hmm?” Eddie asks, using his mouth and tongue against your neck.
“Good? Your cock is perfect, Ed.”
“What happened to sir, baby?” He asks, yet continues to rut into you. Your face falters, realizing your mistake. He lets out a laugh, pitying you.
He places his fingertips on your clit, circling slowly, making the heat that’s pooled in your stomach hotter and larger than you could even conceive. “That…that feels so good, Ed.” You tell him, letting your head fall back.
“God, I love when your tight pussy just-” he inhales through his teeth, “sucks me in… Feels like heaven.”
You giggle, the end of it cut off by a particularly rough thrust. “Heaven?” You gasp out, Eddie starts to move his fingers faster and matches the pace with his hips.
“If Heaven isn’t fucking this tight pussy all day, then I don’t fucking want it.” Eddie gasps back, a growl forming under his breath.
“Ed, I’m gonna—” the feeling overwhelms you, the edge muting your senses as your orgasm ripples through your body.
Eddie moans as you tighten more around him, a fix he figured impossible. He still rotates on your clit, you release two sharp exhales, the heat too hot, too much. “Too much, Ed.”
“You can do it, baby. I could just edge you more.” He mutters.
You giggle, frightened at the goddamn prospect of it. “No, no, no.”
“No? Well then show me. Let’s feel that pussy make a mess all over my cock.” You came from the words alone, giggles intertwined through your moans. “Oh fuck, good girl,”
“I’m so close, baby.” He moans.
“Gonna fill me up?” You ask him, your legs tight around his hips as you bite at his collar bone.
“Keep doing that.” Eddie begs you, and you happily oblige. Every nip, bite and suck at his collarbone had him gasping over you, the chain of his necklace hanging between you two. Your hands go into his hair, pulling at him and you could probably have a third one at the rate he was going at.
No probably about it, but Eddie’s panting and you’re exhausted.
Even then.
He pushes you down as he cums, your back screaming with cold as it hits the island counter. Eddie collapses on top of you, and you breathe heavily together, both catching your breath. His mouth latches on your neck, kissing a trail to your lips. “Oh, I love you.”
You smile into his kiss, your noodle legs falling from his hips. “I love you.” You find yourself wrapped in his arms, the smell of sweat and sex invades the kitchen. His chest is covered in sweat and there’s nothing better.
“Join me for a shower?” He asks after you two have a moment of silence, his fingers single handedly causing a brigade of goosebumps down your side as they move in a whisper over your skin. His other hand is wrapped on your left hand, and you don’t realize he’s unconsciously rubbing at your ring finger.
“If I can walk.” You giggle.
Eddie chuckles, pulling himself out of you and giving you a sleepy half smile. “I could always…” He begins, and then he scoops you up over his shoulder to take you up the stairs. You protest for the first minute of it, but when the view is his toned ass as he walks up the stairs, you really couldn’t complain.
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.
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#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#older!eddie munson#older!eddie x reader#older eddie munson#older!eddie#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#older eddie munson x reader
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hi hi if your requests are open could I ask for ritsu sakuma and rinne amagi x reader relationship hcs!! Gn reader!
ritsu and rinne general relationship hcs
featuring ritsu + rinne x gn! reader
warnings noneee
genre + layout fluff, crack, headcanons/bulleted layout
a/n SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG $/$/!/)/)
s. ritsu
becomes more possessive once you both start dating, but not TOO possessive to the point where he won't let you go, etc. because he knows you still have things to do.
also on how he confessed.. he probably?? did it on accident ☠️☠️
let's just say on a casual day you were just sleeping with him under a tree; on my because you fell asleep from looking at him. unexpectedly he woke up before you did.
confessed while you were quote unquote, “still asleep”. little did he know you were already wide awake.. ;3 your eyes were just closed!!
gets visibly flustered for about just one minute when he realizes your still awake, congratulations!! you've achieved the achievement ‘flustering ritsu sakuma’! difficulty; EXTRA HARD
feels bad when people talk shit about you just for dating him :(. it can scale from “they're not even good enough for ritsu?” to “why are they even dating him.. he's not all that.”
either way tho, he threatens people to stop talking bs about you. he's like that one meme!! “KEEP. MY. WIFES. NAME. OUT. YOUR. FUCKING. MOUTH 🤬🤬🤬” “RITSU STOP”
bro he is definitely starting a riot. sorry.
you have to patch him all up, plus you have to apologize to the person FOR HIM while he's just like.. “DON'T APOLOGIZE TO THEM. THEY CAN GO FUCK THEMSELVES”
eventually. calms down. after like 10 minutes.
anyways,, he gives the bestt cuddles ever. don't we all know that though? this is just a personal hc, but i feel like he does origami for fun.
so whenever he has free time.. and isn't somehow sleeping, he teaches you what he knows. guys don't be like me cuz idk how to even make a paper airplane
+ gives the most RANDOM and OBVIOUS kisses and hickies, and if not, it's on the most personal places. on your (inner) thighs, your neck, your chest, etc.
"wow [name] you look like you just fought with a bear" spoiler alert: you just got a day with ritsu without mika in the room
im sorry if you get flustered obviously by touch, because OH NO.. who would've guessed.. he's so touchy and he absolutely bathes in your reaction whenever you squeal or/and blush at what he's doing.
sends texts to knights saying stuff like, “guys.. i miss them” “BRO STFU 😭” everyone is sick of him saying that, so please be with him 24/7 </3...
also talks about you obsessively to knights, probably even to rei if no one truly wants to listen to him ramble about you.. it's not that they don't like you!! it's just that it's a bit annoying sometimes. but it's also nice to get to know about you more.
just not from ritsu.
a. rinne
im so sorry you have to deal with him. hes so hot tho ill give him that
but when he loves, he loves HARDD, i swear. he'll be spoiling you both with money, and with his affection! it's a win-win situation for the both of you!
like ritsu, he spams his gc because of how much he rambles about you.. whether it be full blown paragraphs of you or little rambles.
these two are actually kind of similar when you're in a relationship with them. rinne is another one who gives very OBVIOUS hickies, and a lot at that. even his unitmates are embarrassed for you atp.. but they're happy!
cares for you a lot, even though it isn't that obvious due to.. yknowww, but it's really heartwarming whenever you see this side of him.
you're hurt by accident? he's already cleaning up your wounds and bandaging them before placing a soft kiss on it, telling you to be careful next time.
not on accident and someone caused it? well... heh... 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞! ahh reaction
likes teasing you a lot! pinching your face and tugging on it right after, just to trigger your natural blush he always loves to see.
HEAVY on pda, doesn't really care who sees, unless you care, then he won't mind! but still insists because he can't get his hands off you (IN A SFW WAY. u guys r gross)
HIIRO APPROVES! you take care of rinne and you look out for him, it's also a win-win for the both of you guys
netflix marathons.. but it's with sad movies. it's either he holds you or you hold him when the other cries their heart out
surprisingly good at comforting?? doesn't seem like it because of his character, but you've learned early enough that he's a good person to rant to!
also because of that, you two have gotten more closer than ever :). thinks you deserve the best— and so he gives it to you. that basically sums up your whole relationship
myunghology: IDK HOW TO WRITE FOR RINNE DIES
#jian’s works!#rinne amagi#rinne amagi x reader#ritsu sakuma x reader#ritsu sakuma#ensemble stars x reader#enstars x reader#ensemble stars#enstars#enstars x you#enstars x y/n#ensemble stars headcanons
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FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics
Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:
Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)
a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:
He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.
Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming
Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.
His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."
I could honestly give him a lil smooch
He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied
He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki
instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched
I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile
Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)
I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.
I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction
My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.
After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that
I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop
I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded
I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet
I have visions of him
One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise
honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him
I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)
He's literally an architect
I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas
i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present
my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN
I've attempted slam poetry about him
I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand
I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that
the Bimodal Distribution
First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy
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How to Avoid Purple Prose
This is one of the easiest criticisms to throw at someone: "Purple prose, almost unreadable, horrible, make it simpler."
The problem is that some critics don't understand the difference between elegant prose and purple prose. It's easy to sneer that someone has purple prose because they added a few extra adjectives if you're being very uncharitable. I see this a lot from pretentious first-year college students who believe that one Creative Writing class makes them a master.
However, there is a time and place for elegant, beautiful, ornate prose ... and times where it's just stupid and pretentious.
As with everything in writing, we need balance. That balance will look a little different to everyone, but many writing critics don't have the skills necessary to understand what each piece's balance point is. Hence, they accuse everything of being purple prose when it's not.
But purple prose is, unfortunately, very real, and we can all fall into its clutches. Let's look at what makes purple prose so terrible and what we can do instead.
Why is purple prose so bad?
Purple prose increases the cognitive load on your reader. It makes them work much harder to understand what you're saying because it hides important details in a wall of mostly irrelevant text.
You want to show off how cool you are and you forget that other people are meant to read this for their own enjoyment. It's self-important and disrespectful to the reader. Focusing on your ego and your need for praise will, paradoxically, wreck your writing.
Clear writing is good writing. People reading for entertainment (ie, people reading fiction outside of school) do not want to devote all of their brainpower to your work; they've got a million other, way more important things to focus on.
Your work is entertainment, and so it needs to be entertaining. Books that force you to translate them into Normal Human English are not entertainment - they are torture.
So what is purple prose, exactly?
It's easier to look at an example and dissect it. Here's an example from one of the most derided books of all time, Irene Iddesleigh by Amanda McKittrick Ros:
Arose the seeming deadly creature to that standard of joy and gladness which should mark his noble path! Endow him with the dewdrops of affection; cast from him the pangs of the dull past, and stamp them for ever beneath the waves of troubled waters; brighten his life as thou wouldst that of a faded flower; and when the hottest ray of that heavenly orb shall shoot its cheerful charge against the window panes of Dunfern Mansion, the worthy owner can receive it with true and profound thankfulness. Three weeks had scarcely passed ere Sir John was made the recipient of another invitation to Dilworth Castle. This second effusion of cordiality required neither anxious thought nor prolonged decision how to act, knowing as he did that it would again serve to bring his present thoughts into practice by affording him another opportunity of sharing in the loving looks of one for whom he feared there dwelt a strong inclination on his part to advance his affection.
What the fuck is this saying? Basically, that Sir John is happy that he's being invited back to Dilworth Castle, and he accepted the invitation immediately. Ok. We didn't need all that shit.
Hallmarks of purple prose
This isn't an exhaustive list, but it'll give you an idea.
Long, complex, yet insubstantial sentences. With purple prose, every single sentence has multiple clauses and goes on for three or four lines. But somehow it says absolutely nothing. That example from Irene Iddesleigh has a sentence that is SEVEN LINES LONG. And tells us nothing whatsoever. No action. Purple prose is annoying because no one's doing anything - they're just talking about doing things. Half of the above paragraph has no action in it whatsoever. The next part just tells us that he accepted the invitation because he's excited. That's it.
Excessive description. With purple prose, someone may take a full page to describe a room in excruciating detail before anyone even talks or does anything. You do not need to explain every facet of a place.
Double-describing things. In the above passage, Ros explains exactly how Sir John feels five different ways before she even tells us what he is excited about. If you describe something twice in a row, you are doing too much.
Explaining every facet of a human's state. Tell us once and then use action to support the point. Over-reliance on unique words. It's fine to use one or two highbrow words in a passage. English is such a fun language because we have so many synonyms for damn near everything. However, when every other word needs a reader to crack out a thesaurus, you have a problem.
Too many adjectives and adverbs. With purple prose, every single thing needs an adjective, and every action has an adverb. This is overwhelming and annoying; there's just too many details. Sometimes a table is just a table. Sometimes someone just does something. Too many metaphors and similes. This is a common issue with purple prose because it can't just tell you how someone feels: it has to define it in 10000 different ways. It's easy to get lost in a tangle of metaphors and have no idea what's actually going on.
Essentially, purple prose is too much of a good thing. Everything is set to 100 and there's no way for the reader to remember all of that.
What purple prose is not
To fix purple prose, we need to understand the difference between purple prose and good, normal, nice prose.
A few unique words sprinkled in here or there. If you've got one word per page that someone may need to look up, you don't have purple prose. The problem with purple prose isn't necessarily the vocabulary itself; it's the density.
Pretty prose that serves a purpose. If you have plenty of action and dialogue, you likely do not have purple prose.
Small instances of alliteration. People whine that using alliteration at all is a big no-no, but that is not true. It can add a certain melody to your writing, as long as you use it sparingly.
One or two long sentences per page. We want to use a variety of sentence structures, which will naturally mean some of our sentences are longer than others. If you intersperse some long lines with shorter ones, then you are doing just fine.
Any adjectives or adverbs. Sometimes you do need precision because you want to paint a picture. It's okay to have an ornately carved wooden table, or a red glowing candle, or dappled snowflakes fluttering from the sky. The issue is when every single noun has an adjective and every single verb has an adverb.
Description. There are people who genuinely believe you shouldn't explain anything and that everything should read like a movie script. That's dumb. It's fine to have glowing descriptions of things as long as they aren't overtaking the action and dialogue.
You'll notice a theme here: good prose has balance. It uses long sentences and short sentences; it allows for complex vocabulary without losing the point. There is proportionate description, action, and dialogue. There's a bit of wordplay, but that's not the primary focus of the scene.
Options to fix purple prose
If I were in charge of fixing Irene Iddesleigh into something humans would actually read, I would first down a full bottle of whisky. Then I'd do something like this.
Three weeks had scarcely passed ere Sir John received a sacred gift: a second invitation to Dilworth Castle. The very sun seemed to shine with fiercer glory as he regarded the succinct missive, penned on cream paper in soft-shining violet ink. He vacillated not; before he knew his own thoughts, he had rummaged in his drawer for the tools of love. With shaking hand, he dashed off his eager agreement, adding a flourishing signature below the ten lines of text. This he handed to his butler, who gave a smile adorned with sly glee. All who met him must see the fascination stamped on his face, Sir John was sure. Gone were the pangs of a dull past, washed away with the dewdrops of affection - so fleeting, yet essential to his sustained happiness. His very essence had bloomed like a faded flower reintroduced to the nourishing soil, ready to be plucked by that worthy maiden's delicate hand.
I've tried to replicate Ros's more late-Victorian style here, which does mean it's more purple than I, personally, would do. However, it retains the spirit of her thoughts and preserves some of her more interesting similes. They're more connected now into a larger metaphor of Sir John being like a sad, drooping flower that has now perked up and forgotten how miserable he was.
I also added more concrete details about where he is, what the invitation looks like, and what he does with it instead of just rambling on about how happy he is about being noticed by Irene-sempai.
Now, if I were doing this in a more modern style, I might write something like this:
Sir John looked up from his book when the butler entered, holding a small envelope with a weighty wax seal. Assuming it just another demand from his parents, he waved his old caretaker away, but the butler shook his head and came forward, smiling now. "You might wish to read it first, my lord." "Probably some gala nonsense." Frowning, he picked up his penknife and accepted the letter, then paused. Dust motes, floating in the golden sunlight, appeared like fairies encircling a script he had already come to love. There could be no mistaking that handwriting: painstakingly delicate cursive, with elegant whirls as underline. Nor had he ever seen anyone else use violet ink for their messages. It could only be her. Did he dare? Of course. Sir John pried off the wax seal of Dilworth Castle - a lion encircling a lamb - and scanned the invitation with jittering eyes that made the letters dance. An invitation, only three weeks after the last: his chest felt full of flowers, his eyes turning dewy by the morning sun. How could he ever refuse? "Get me my finest paper," Sir John demanded of the butler waiting at a respectful distance. "And good blue ink. The nice Mont-Blanc fountain pen - none of that gel nonsense."
How to prevent purple prose
Why do the above passages work better? Why are they more enjoyable to read? Here's why.
Use shorter sentences. One of the fastest ways to fix purple prose is just to chunk up your sentences better. It's hard to create super ornate and overwrought sentences in under two lines, so forcing yourself to keep every sentence less than three lines will naturally cut out a lot of the bullshit.
Ask yourself what you are really trying to show. What should a reader get out of this sentence? What information are you sharing with them? Then explain that.
Run your text through a grade estimator. It sucks, I know, but if we want to have highly engaging content, we do need to dumb it down just a bit. If you're writing above like a 9th grade level, you know you might be too purply. A lot of this does come from sentence structure, so fixing your syntax can help drop the grade level.
Keep weird words to a minimum. I give myself a goal to only use one strange and archaic word per page. Sometimes two if I really need it. But I space them out throughout the text and use ample context clues so someone shouldn't have to go look it up if they're reading carefully.
Put action first, then description. Tell us what to focus on before you elaborate with flowery metaphors. Both the fixed passages give us the details upfront. The second one starts with an action and adds some tension so we don't quite know what's happening before the big reveal, while the first one tells us immediately and then expands on it (a more Victorian thing).
Focus on small movements to tell a bigger story. Things like someone's hands shaking or their eyes watering will explain their emotional state without you having to tell us.
Include sensory details. In the fixed passages, we see dust motes dancing in the air, we see the colorful ink, we feel its weight. This is much more engaging without being purply.
Keep metaphors to a minimum. Metaphors work when they are interspersed with more action-oriented text; otherwise, it's not even clear what you're trying to describe. Pick a strong one and stick with it rather than cramming a bunch in at once.
Use dialogue. Dialogue is more engaging and allows you to tell us things without just stating it outright in the text.
If you'd like to read more of my work, consider buying my book!
9 Years Yearning is a gay coming-of-age romance set in a fantasy world. It follows Uileac Korviridi, a young soldier training at the War Academy. His primary motivations are honoring the memory of his late parents, protecting his little sister Cerie, and becoming a top-notch soldier.
However, there's a problem: Orrinir Relickim, a rough and tough fellow pupil who just can't seem to leave Uileac alone.
The book features poetry, descriptions of a beautiful country inspired by Mongolia, and a whole lot of tsundere vibes.
You can also check it out on Goodreads for a list of expanded distribution.
Be sure to preorder Pride Before a Fall, arriving January 1, 2025!
If you do purchase my book, don't forget to leave a review!
Reviews are vital for visibility on Amazon and help to support indie authors like me. Whenever you love a book, be sure to let the author know! It's much appreciated.
I've also created a masterlist of writing resources that you can peruse at your leisure, all for free.
Enjoy!
#purple prose#writing#how to write#writing tips#writing advice#writing help#writing process#writing is hard#writing problems#on writing#beginner writer#aspiring writer#aspiring author#writers on tumblr#creative writing#fiction writing#original fiction#writing fiction
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Hello lovelies, 💘HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!💘
I'm back with more BG3 headcanons! Today's prompt is;
💕Modern AU; Ways the BG3 (romanced) companions are idyllicly sweet with Tav!💕
No spoilers! Tags are; A whole heckin lot of fluff and cuteness!
Lae'zel -
You have to be careful with what you say around Lae'zel. Made a minor comment 3 months ago that you wanted to revisit somewhere in the Sword Coast? Get packing, you guys are all booked to go. Asked Lae'zel to get you candy on the way home? She has 3 full bags. Say that comment her folks made last time you visited made you uncomfortable- you have a paragraph text apology from all of them the next day. She's not just someone who wants to spoil Tav, she fucking will. (If Tav manages to talk her out of going nuts with the pampering, she's surprisingly sentimental. You bet she keeps a rock in her pocket that reminds her of Tav)
Shadowheart -
She is so excited to post you. She doesn't like social media and tends to keep to herself, but after watching Tav post pictures of them both, she wanted to do the same. The minute she gets even the smallest romantic gesture, she's scrapbooking, she has a wall of Polaroids joined by a horde of hand made sketches, she's putting together little snack baskets and mailing them to Tav, she's about as obviously head over heels as a person can be, really. She's always got a camera aimed at Tav, even if they're just for her. (A good 90% are just for her eyes)
Wyll -
This man never plays games/gets online with both sides of the headphones in. It doesn't matter if the game is online, offline, urgent, time sensitive, dependent on his concentration- if Tav so much as makes a peep, he's out of his seat and across the room. Hells, he takes every chance he gets to go give Tav some attention. In the drift of leaving the waking world, Tav will definitely hear a little "One minute, Tav needs me" despite them not asking. Some footsteps. And then moments later, the warmth of the duvet being tucked all over their body and a gentle kiss to the cheek. Whispered "I love you"s and then a quiet. "I'm going to hop off for a few hours." So you can have some quiet.
Karlach -
She's one of those people that really makes you realise you have good taste in other people. Like, you can't think of a time you went on a walk and she didn't pick up some trash, help an elderly person across the street, immediately offer her seat to a pregnant woman. No matter how prideful Tav might be or not, there's a pride in the admiring looks other people give her. Little girls pass in the street and say "mum, I want to be like her when I grow up!" Everything she does makes Tav proud to be with her, yet somehow Tav is always the one under a spotlight to her. "Oh, me and my partner-" this. "Oh, my partner-" that. "I'm so proud of my Tav. Ugh, I am so lucky" she insists at every turn.
Gale -
He's a night owl, much to Tara's dismay. Wether that's because he can't sleep, he likes being awake in the dark hours or- his brain won't stop nattering at him for a gods damned minute, but either way. He's probably working, quietly cleaning, organising Tavs things so they don't have to worry. In quiet moments, between possibly making them breakfast because of course he's up that early- he's just kissing Tav on the forehead, gently, trying not to wake them. He needs them to sleep but there is not a moment in his day where he doesn't think: "Does Tav know I love them? Can I remind them once more? Even if its just for my peace of mind?" Because he will not rest if he has an inkling his live for Tav isn't at the forefront of their mind.
Astarion -
If you even suggest to this man that you should do matching outfits, he's excited. He always wants to take the wheel, but also wants Tav to have a foot in the idea. He will give ideas left and right, opinions up and down. He doesn't care if it's a date or not, cringe solstice photos, or just gym clothes, he's all for it. If you guys didn't have matching pyjamas already, you have them now, congrats. (If he's still a bloodsucker, he'll definitely still go out of his way to learn how to cook for Tav. Tokyo Ghoul rules though, so Tav gets to taste test a lot. Only the best for his little capri-sun) Overall he's just unashamed and excited to be with someone who very obviously wants to be his, visibly as possible.
(Bonus Halsin!)
Halsin -
This man lives for shared activity. He's quite alright on his own and can allow Tav their space, but going to get massages, haircuts/styles, wine tasting is his total vibe. Just relaxed gatherings together. Nobody lives a spa day like this man. It allows a level of intimacy that nature intends. Cleansing. Careful. Close. He will learn how to do Tavs hair and makeup if asked. Will take pleasure in being able to undress them and put them to bed at the end of a long day. Go on hikes and camping trips, walks through the woods, carving names into rocks and bringing back souvenirs to press into a book that's only getting thicker.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#astarion#bg3 headcanons#wyll ravengard#gale dekarios#lae'zel#astarion headcanons#gale headcanons#wyll headcanons#karlach headcanon#karlach bg3#astarion x tav#karlach x tav#lae'zel headcanons#lae'zel bg3#shadowheart headcanons#shadowheart#shadowheart x tav#wyll x tav#halsin headcanons#bg3 halsin#halsin x tav#gale x tav#fluff#valentines day
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it just baffles me that I'm like the only one I see online with actual problems and I'll tell you what it is with this cookbook.
The people making CONTENT on the books (Julien...that themed cookbook guy) they're having fun bc
1) its a cute book ...as a BOOK
2)people are beholden to stardew valley bc they love the game. I love the game. And the recipes aren't bad per say. They seem fine. I'm going to the store in a bit to maybe buy some stuff for the veggie plates like autumn bounty.
But this isn't my first time at the stupid cook book rodeo. And I've had ACTUAL cookbooks before. I gave a bunch of them away when I moved down here bc I didn't need "how to cook japanese food" when Just One Cookbook exists online lmao
I used to have that thick tome but was also somehow super small of the betty crocker cookbook. And I use blue apron on and off whenever I have the extra cash. So I'm PRETTY FAMILIAR with cookbooks or reading recipe cards and its just....
The book has NO pictures of the food being ACTUALLY cooked. Its either before pages or after pages of like "Here's the rhubarb pie!" like that's cool. You wanna show me HOW I should be cutting the rhubarb? or what the crust looks like?? Or....ANYTHING AT ALL.
They use up valuable space in the book with spot illustrations and yeah there are a LOT of recipes but a lot of these recipes don't need a giant Junimo with a chef hat when the paragraph next to it has like 12 steps per paragraph and NO photo about the cooking process
and thats the main problem and Julien and that other youtuber BOTH said the same thing. There's TOO MUCH TEXT. And thats not inherently bad in a cookbook. But nothing is Bulleted or Numbered. And without photos its really easy to lose your spot.
Compared to both the smap cook book and sanji cookbook the steps are SHORT and precise and not overwhelming.
I even have the max fundrive cookbook and that has very few pictures but bc of the page limit and size of the book and the INTENT of the book (Its intended to be like..your mom or your bud is telling you how to cook something they know from memory). The steps are STILL bulleted(kinda) out even when parts are kind of long. But again bc THAT book is so small you're looking at maybe...three or four steps for NOT complex recipes. The McElroys have spaghetti as their recipe. Thats the kind of recipes you're looking at. Its very beginner friendly so it doesn't NEED a ton of photos.
Where the Stardew Valley cookbook has a lot of fish dishes, desserts (DESSERTS ESPECIALLY~!!!! NEED BULLETED STEPS!!!!), and vegetarian versions of non vegetarian foods (The Survival Burger...which has beans. Yuck)
So my main take away for a cookbook. Is if I, as an average cook, who lives alone, and has very little patience or attention span (thank you adhd).....if I look at your book and go....
I'll just go buy something.
ITS NOT A GOOD COOKBOOK.
Again i think the recipes are FINE as a whole. They're just.....terrible to read or even use practically. And I think that is mostly at fault of the design of the book itself.
Also the number one complaint for the PHOTOS is that the photo of the fucking pizza ISN'T.
COOKED.
The Pineapple Curry is a photo of an empty pineapple, curry powder, and some peppers.
NOT THE FINAL PRODUCT.
The Salmon Dinner is just salmon filets lmao
There's also a few pages in between that are just pictures of ingredients like you'd see on an Applebee's wall. Like??????
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So, this is the first part. It's the first time I write something so long, especially in English. It's not my first language so be nice ahah.
TW: swearing cursing bad words. I'm serious, I don't want to be responsible for you, kids, swearing. Also it's kind of sad. So don't read it if you don't like sad things. :(
--------- Roots of your problems : part 1
- Is it painful?
- What? To marry?
He chuckled loudly, yet he silenced himself fastly, as if it helped for her not to get offended by her little stupid question. But she felt so stupid for asking that to him. How could someone who’s never been married tell her how is that to be married? Well, atleast that's what Clef always said. ”I've never been married”. Alto lies a lot. Like, all of her childhood he used to lie, and lie, but somehow she doesn't think that it's one of his lies. How can a man like him lie about being married? He doesn't look like he has a wife or kids at all. And Marzia felt an embarrassment by asking something so stupid from a man who aren't even able to fall in love (at least that's what she thought about him and that's what she said to her)
And she was twelve once. She doesn’t go to school. When your adoptive parent works for a super-top-secret organisation and your sibling starts college to get a job at the same organisation it’s not like you have time or an opportunity to live a normal life. To be honest, it was ok for her to get an education at home. Marzia never liked other people, it was tiring to even be at the same room (it wasn’t the same with Michelle or Alto. Maybe it's because they’re not, exactly, ”people”?). People are gross. They're loud, they're stupid, they're nosy and Marzia didn't like them at all. Some of them were tolerable enough, like Glass. Their visits were long and she got used to him.
- She needs to socialise. You know how is it important for her age…Michelle, you have to…
- I know that. You see, she doesn't want to. She doesn't even pay attention to me, it's like I'm dead to her. I'm so, so fucking tired.
No. No, that's not true, she doesn't see him dead. Why did he say that? Maybe that's because she doesn't notice him sometimes? But that's not on purpose, that's just how her brain works, that's it. Sometimes it's just hard to talk, but he is dear to her. If only she was able to tell, things would be easier.
When she turned eighteen, she realised, that it's hard to find friends in the Foundation. Marzia didn't have even one, but somehow, she ended up in a group of pathologists. That's how she met Clem, who just got out of college straight to the Foundation. She was older, she was fun and she was like a star. Like a sun, but Marzia is nothing but a moon. She's not even a fucking planet, she doesn't deserve any of her warmth, but yet, somehow, she's here for her. So they're friends, for the first time Marzia had a friend who wasn't looking at her like she was a burden.
Oh, how she tried to shapeshift. She had a great example to follow, it was easy to pretend to be someone she wasn't. She tried to wear makeup and bright, extravagant clothes, she was unhinged, she was loud and sometimes it was too much of her in the room and she felt embarrassment when her laugh was just a bit, just a bit off. It’s like she was laughing a little bit longer and louder and somehow, she found herself crying while laughing. Because she couldn’t stop. She was trying, but she was laughing and laughing while tears are rolling down her cheeks.
And Marzia, stupid, little Marzia, Marzia with no friends at the age of eighteen, Marzia with no goals for the future, Marzia, who's life for the next fifty years is gonna be this stupid, concrete base, dusty shelves full of books and articles and paragraphs she'll never be able to understand, she was so lucky to have someone at her side, to have a person, the only person in the whole world who LOVES her and doesn't even wait to be loved back. And she was grateful, and she was trying so much to not be this stupid, little Marzia with her stupid socialising problems.
And they're sitting in front of fireplace. It's almost midnight and Clef and Michelle are already sleeping in their rooms. Clef doesn't like Clementine, neither does Michelle, but still, he allowed them to have a sleepover, and they're talking till the midnight and they're laughing and hushing at each other and Marzia knows that Clef is not sleeping. He's waiting. It's like he felt all this shit that was hiding inside Clem, he knew it. He felt it. But Marzia didn't care at all, he can think what he wants, she liked her. Even if she's evil. Even if they're doomed as a couple, and it won't be the last time it happened to Marzia.
- I want to show you something. Can I...uhh...trust you? Can I?
Clem nodded without saying a word. Her dark brown eyes reflected gold from a fire next to her. She was in flame herself, she was that flame from a fireplace. The only one who understands her. Her only friend. Her lover. And her eyes got wider as something tickled her ear as Marzia tucked hair behind it. Marzia handed her a flower. And Clementine knew about Michelle. She knew everything about her family, everyone did. And her face acquired a grimace of regret. She stood up immediately.
- I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I can't. I don't want to...Shit, why did you do that to me? You know how complicated it's gonna be. I thought you aren't...you can't...warp...- She got silent, pursing her lips. And Marzia knew, she wasn't able to deal with a reality bender. She didn't want to have problems, to be in danger and to have her family and her friends in danger. And more, she didn't love Marzia back. She liked her, yes, but she didn't love her.
- I'm sorry. I'll call a taxi.
And Marzia is looking at her. And a big, painful lump got stuck in her throat.
- Marzia.
- Yes?
She was hoping so much that she'll change her mind.
- I won't discuss it ever again. And I don't want to talk again. Please, leave me alone, ok?
The door closed.
And the first abnormal spot ended, pulling her out of her own memories.
Now Layla is here.
- We got everything we wanted. Let's get out of here.
#scp fandom#scp#scp foundation#my ocs#oc#oc art#oc artwork#oc fanfiction#dr alto clef(mentioned)#this was hard uhhh#ah yes doomed lesbians
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UPPING YOUR HATE ANON GAME: A GUIDE
Are your hate anons getting brushed off by the people you send them to? Do they not inspire the visceral self hatred of the victim that you want them to? here's a handy guide for upping YOUR hate anon game!
(DISCLAIMER: The techniques used in this guide are not guaranteed to make your victims cry)
Step 1: Verbosity In this day and age, a simple "kys" just won't cut it! People throw that phrase around all the time like it's nothing, so it's unlikely to leave more than just a shallow cut.
What you wanna do, in actuality, is put some effort into your wording. Make them read a paragraph about how disgusting they are, rather than just a sentence. Below is an example of how much more hurtful your messages can be if you give yourself a minimum word count you have to hit. E.G.1: "you suck kys genuinely"
E.G.2: "out of everyone on this shithole of an earth, you somehow manage to be the most disgusting thing I've encountered. for everyone's sake, go die in a ditch you freakish asshole" As you can see, example 2 leaves a much longer lasting impression, due to it's unique wording. Next time you send anonymous hate, try upping the word count for a harder-hitting result.
Step 2: Language Upping your word count is a good step forward, but we can go further! Consider the language you use. Swearing too often makes the words lose their punch, while not swearing at all can make you seem afraid to. Try to limit your swearing to the parts of your message you want to hurt the most. Below is an example of how messages can differ based on usage of swears. E.G.3 (overdone swearing): "holy fucking shit. you're the most disgusting fucking bitch I've ever fucking come across. I can't even fucking fathom the idea of someone shittier than you. fucking kill yourself, for everyone's sake" E.G.4 (limited swearing): "holy hell. you're the most disgusting, fucking abhorrent, freak I've ever come across. I can't even begin to fathom the fucking idea of someone shittier than you. kill yourself, for everyone's sake" E.G.5 (no swearing): "holy hell. you're the most disgusting freak I've ever come across. I can't even freaking fathom the idea of someone crappier than you. kill yourself, for everyone's sake"
Can you see how all three differ in tone, and how you interpret the people saying them, despite all being the same message aside from the swears?
Step 3: Frequency Don't wanna write several essays about how much you hate someone in a day? Good, because you shouldn't. Sending hate anons too frequently will make them lose their impact, much like with swearing. If someone wakes up to twenty uber long hate anon messages in their inbox, they'll likely read half of some of them before rolling their eyes and blocking you. Send them occasionally, just whenever you have time to kill. If that's not often enough for you, find multiple people to hate to keep you occupied. I guarantee you, though, that the less often you send them, the more of a punch they'll have.
Step 4: Research If you want your anons to REALLY hurt, you're gonna want to stalk your target a little - not in real life, of course. Find out what they're interested in, their writing style, etc. If you have even the slightest thing to poke fun of, it can seriously up how much it hurts. Bonus points if you reference a recent post of theirs. Examples of how a targeted message can differ from a general message below. E.G.6: "you're a disgusting bitch, y'know that? nobody wants you here, you fucking freak, so go ahead and kill yourself already" E.G.7: "you're a disgusting bitch, y'know that? nobody wants you here you freak. and you think you're so fucking funny with your little "XD" at the end of all the shit that comes out of your mouth. go ahead and just kill yourself, because clearly all your mutuals can go on without you, what with how little you actually talk to them"
Notice how message two picks on insecurities, and makes the receiver seem like a bad friend? It leaves much more of an impact than message one, which could easily just be sent to anyone.
And that's all! I hope you got something from this! If you want to practice, send anonymous hate to me, and I'll grade you based on how well I think you did - though remember, this is all just my opinion on how to better a hate message, and there is no wrong way to be a hater!
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Hey; different anon here. I saw your post about Revali singing to Link, and that got me thinking: Revali singing in some cavernous place(maybe an unearthed Sheikah building, but those probably would be occupied by researchers 24/7 so idk) and Link finding him there, maybe catching him mid-practice. First, Revali trying to come up with a feasible reason why he hangs out in said place would be hilarious, and second, imagine him singing some old Rito song to Link once he promises he won't tell anyone 👀
Also: imagine all chamipons, Link and Zelda hanging out on one of the Divine Beasts and singing a song together (i am very weak to champions being a found family)
oh anon this is a fantastic idea and i got a little carried away with it. i am so sorry i basically half-wrote fanfic here omg i'm gonna put a read-more under the next paragraph 😭 i also really love the idea of the champions as a found family aaaa but i will not be able to cover that here because this post is already long enough HAHAHA i'll try to talk a bit on that in a separate post LOL i recall there being a modern revalink au where the champions are in a musical? and i believe it was by bibliomaniac! i'm gonna have to go reread it that fic was gassss omg
i would like to suggest the cave where the great hebra skeleton is as revali's super-secret-singing cave! maybe he stumbled upon it as a fledgling and promptly left screeching and running when he saw huge beastly skeleton, but later returned over the years and started using it as his secret singing practice cave. the acoustics in that place gotta be fire, fr.
i'm imagining this happening pre-calamity, but maybe link is checking out the huge hole in hebra peak with zelda (for science reasons >:] zelda is a Woman in STEM!). when they're done, zelda gets flown back down to rito village by another rito who accompanied them, but link decides to stay for a little while longer because hebra is one of the prettiest regions hands down idc! he ends up accidentally figuring out how to shield-surf down the peak completely unintentionally and i know his dumb ass face-planted into the snow LMAO. somehow, he ends up near the stone entrance where one of the doors have already been propped open... so keeping a hand ready to grab for his sword, link enters the cave 😳
but once he does actually enter, he hears a beautiful voice singing a melancholy song, their voice resonating and bouncing off of the cavern's walls and link is entranced. his guard drops immediately and he follows the song deeper into the cave, eyes wide and moving like he's possessed where he's greeted by not only a gigantic fucking leviathan skeleton and one of those shrines zelda's obsessed with, but revali, the champion of the rito and known asshole freak, being the owner of that incredible angelic voice? hylia above, revali of all people?!
but the longer that link listens, the further he falls under revali's musical spell, the rito standing on the platform lip of the shrine, a hand on his chest and his eyes shut as he sings. revali does have a very nice voice and it's making link want to sing with him, like he's meant to or something. but the longing in revali's voice keeps catching link off guard — why does he sound so sad? why does he sing like his heart aches to be with someone he can't have...?
by the time revali has finished his sorrowful song and opens his eyes, link stands before him at the steps of the shrine, his eyes still wide. for a moment, revali holds link's gaze catching his breath and doesn't actually register it's link at first, but then—
"how did you get in here?!" revali squawks, jumping back. his screech echoes across the cavern, but link doesn't flinch at all still staring at revali in awe.
"i could ask the same of you," link says breathlessly. "do you normally just hang out in caves? you know what, that's not important right now. your voice is... incredible."
revali shifts and preens under the praise, but it's still link, who of course has disrupted all his plans once more. "y-yes, well," revali stammers, "it's not as though as an extraordinary warrior such as myself couldn't be talented in music and art! the rito are natural singers, our vocal chords are practically perfectly formed for singing when we're born! why wouldn't i posses a voice fit for the heavens?" revali tosses his braids over his shoulder and points his beak upwards, but he keeps an eye trained on link, who still stares in awe and admiration. it's... quite nice to have link's attention like this. "and for your information, i do not just hang out in caves. i'm a creature of wind and sky! i simply required an isolated location that would provide the proper resonance i needed to... rehearse. and this was the perfect spot, until you came and ruined it!"
"what was that song you were singing?" link says softly, ignoring revali's harsh words. he takes a step closer and revali can't find it in him to move away. "it sounded so... sad."
revali stares at him incredulously, before sighing in resignation. link was a very stubborn person who was focused on achieving his goals, no matter what. it was... an admirable trait, in more appropriate situations than this. "it's an ancient song of the rito," revali responds, in a much softer tone than when he previously spoke. "it might be difficult for you to believe, but the rito are a people of intimacy and devotion. we aren't just warriors." revali looks back to meet link's piercing blue gaze. it could blend in with the ice that surrounds the cavern walls around the leviathan skeleton. "this song... is one of yearning, of being apart for far too long, whether it be time or space, and of wishing desperately to be by each other's side once more.
"it was originally in the ancient tongue of my ancestors, but of course time and its partner conquest have done their duties, attempting to usher in reinterpretations and translations digestible for general hyrulean dialects and muddling our sacred words in the process." link winces and stares apologetically. "don't bother with apologies now, what's done is done. the ancient rito language still lives, even if broken and battered. my ancestors never yielded to such conquests." revali looks away again and up at the great skeleton above their heads. "and it's still a proud and beautiful song, even if somber."
"it is beautiful," link agrees. then he fidgets, averting his eyes to play with his fingers. "a very beautiful song..." link still feels that aching need to sing with revali, and that song....
revali studies link's actions. "spit it out," he says. "you very clearly want to say something. did you change your mind and decided that my performance was pathetic and subpar?" revali's words are frigid, sharpened into icicles dipped in bitterness.
"no!" link's head shoots up, eyes wide in panic. "no, no, never. your voice is amazing, i really meant that! i just..." link fidgets again. "the song... is it... do you... do you do lessons?" revali blinks and link takes it as a no. "sorry, never mind, that was dumb, i—"
"with all due respect, champion link," revali cuts him off, "perhaps you should allow me a chance to respond." link shuts his mouth and nods. "what do you mean, 'lessons'?"
"would... would you teach me the song?" link says. he stares at revali with wide blue eyes, nervous but curious more than anything. it catches revali completely off-guard.
"you... want to learn it?" revali says. his tone is no longer icy and spitting, instead soft and genuinely surprised.
"yes," link whispers, eyes impossibly wider. "you said it's sad, but it sounds beautiful. i'm not the greatest singer in the world or anything, but i can appreciate a well-composed song when i hear it. so... i want to learn it, if you'll teach me."
when revali looks into link's eyes again, they're still nervous but now they're hopeful and determined and genuine and it leaves revali astonished. link, of all people, wanted to learn a song of his people? "perhaps," revali murmurs, "you aren't as incompetent and selfish as i thought you were. i could spare some time to teach you such a significant song of our culture..." link perks up, eyes sparkling— "but! under certain conditions!"
"i'll do anything," link agrees immediately. that surprises revali too, but he masks it as he stares at link.
"i will not have you sullying my name and image as a champion," revali says, "and so you will not speak of this to anyone. you won't tell anyone about this encounter, this place, that i'm teaching you this song, that i sing at all — this will remain strictly between you and me, understand?" and link nods right away, maintaining his intense blue-eyed gaze. "...good." revali shakes his crest feathers out reflexively. "i'm finished for this session, but if your desire to learn this song manages to survive the night, you will find me here again at dawn."
"then i'll see you tomorrow morning," link says breathlessly, beginning to grin. "thank you, revali... i'm genuinely grateful."
"rightfully so," revali preens. "you'll be learning only from the best. now let us return to the village, before the princess thinks you've abandoned your duties and disappeared into the wilderness."
when they step outside of the cavern, the sun is beginning to reach for its bed under the horizon, the sky above them glowing in soft shades of pink and orange and light sheets of snow fall gently around them. link gasps softly at the scenery — hebra truly is one of the most beautiful regions in hyrule. revali snorts at the little hylian's wonder but his chest swells with pride for his home.
as he raises his wings to gather updraft, revali realizes that link doesn't really have any other methods of returning to the village. he doesn't even know how link got here in the first place, but if he were to walk all the way back to the village from here, he might as well just leave himself for dead. the hebra mountains were beautiful, yes, but they were incredibly dangerous for anyone who wasn't prepared or familiar with the terrain. and so revali takes a breath to gather his pride and ask...
"do... do you want me to take you back to the village?" revali mumbles, averting his eyes. link turns to look back at him, his eyes wide. "simply out of necessity, of course. a flightless, featherless thing like yourself couldn't possibly make it back to the village on your own and return by dawn. it would be a death sentence!" revali's feathers begin to ruffle as he continues to talk— "the princess would have my head if i didn't ensure your safety, as i'm practically responsible for it if we're out here together."
"i'd like that," link murmurs, his gaze softening. revali looks back at him and his feathers rise. "thank you, revali."
"yes, well, i'm sure you would," revali stutters, "i'd provide the smoothest and most comfortable ride out of all the rito!" revali turns away, trying to subtly pat down his feathers, and crosses his arms. "now, get on my back, we're losing light! i don't want to fly when it gets dark. i won't be able to see a thing..."
link smiles at him and revali's chest expands and swirls, a strange feeling he can't quite recognize yet. the little hylian does as revali says and clambers onto his back, holding onto revali's shoulders. "hold on tight, my gale is quite powerful now, you know. i won't spare you any time to catch you if you fall." (a lie, not that link needs to know.) and with that, revali crouches and gather wind under his wings, before bursting upwards into the sky.
link's arms tighten around his shoulders and chest, whooping and gasping from the cold air as they rise. as they fly back to rito village, revali wonders how link will be able to make it to the cave in the morning. should he offer to take link there? would link even say yes? he doesn't know. all revali can focus on is the feeling of link's arms tight around his chest and his warm breath in his ear as they fly back to the village.
what an interesting turn of events, revali thinks, who would've thought that this is what we would become, that you would want to learn a song in the tongue of my people. that's too likeable of you, link. how shall i maintain our rivalry now?
(spoiler alert, revali; the r in rivalry stands for romance and you're about to get held against the wall during a sparring session 🥰)
#revalink#loz#botw#loz botw#legend of zelda#amihan's revalinkverse#ask#i am. so sorry for how long this is. i really didn't plan on writing a full on fic it just. happened#the sad ancient rito song revali was singing can be any song you want to think of!#but i personally listened to the following songs as i wrote this:#location unknown (brooklyn session) by honne and beka#oceans & engines by niki#the truth untold by bts#great songs btw they're also on my revalink playlist#and i recommend them all very much! please listen when you want to be sad#anyways anon i hope this was up to your standards#i have to go finish my laundry now....
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hi!! im absolutely astounded at the amount of depth and heart thats in all your fics, and im also very floored at the amount at which you write—im at a cross between admiration and maybe jealously lol!! I wanted to ask, are there any fic of yours (sandman or not) that you think are underrated/deserves more attention?? super excited for everything you ever write!!
asdfg anon thank you <3 So I have a Problem where I have a lot of anxiety about what I create, and when that's writing, if I am not writing The Next Great Novel, then I need to sate the brain demons SOMEHOW, and writing a LOT is the easiest way to do that. I want very badly to please people, and fortunately it's not a hardship for me to write the amount that i do, though I AM trying to consciously like. Take breaks if I need? Take a night off? Keep it healthy looool. But that I'm able to write things that people are consistently finding value and meaning in is a continuous and beautiful marvel to me so thank you, thank you very much!!!
So I read your second part of the ask wrong at first and had gathered uh several fics which I think are underrated that are NOT mine
One Half of a Whole by @violetequus8 - Absolutely REMARKABLE post-apocalyptic literature. Equus captures an entire world and history in 4000 words. There are sentences in this fic that rewrote my brain chemistry.
The entire like this slumber that creeps to me series by @tobrokenstone - THIS. This is survival the way I fucking LOVE IT. Bleak, stark, hard decisions, lasting consequences, surprisingly tender cannibalism (this last may be...specific to me and a few select others lol)
Once again repping the point-set-triangulation series by therm0dynamics, which is singlehandedly the series that got me into Hob/The Corinthian (it's about MIRRORS it's about PARALLELS)
And at this point I realized that you'd asked about which of MY fics I think are underrated, and I was just so caught up in the thought of repping my friends that I lived in a world where I did not write for a moment loool
Salt and Rye is the result of a prompt on tumblr. I wanted to try and capture that feeling of recreating a parent or grandparent's recipe and failing, because it's SUCH a disheartening moment, but I wanted to make it lighter, because Hob has someone there to share the comedy of it with him.
Here there be dragons is my latest fic in the Siren AU and I do think that people who aren't into scifi in general will be more likely to give it a pass, but I'm very proud of it, and very proud of the emotions it evoked in ME, and I promise it's not hard scifi like The Martian or even really pervasive scifi like Star Trek! I just tried to think realistically about what our planet would look like and feel like in 1500 years, and how we might need to leave it. Also, Dream's still a carnivorous octopus man.
an act of faith is the vampire fever dream that struck me at like 3pm on a Saturday and I blacked out for like two hours and this was what I'd written during that time. I enjoy writing obscene levels of devotion and you can't really get much more obscene than "willing to tempt death year after year even though no one's asked you to in order to prove to YOURSELF that your lover loves you"
Honestly I don't think many of my fics are underrated! They're all written at different points in my development and my understanding of myself as a writer, and they range pretty widely in terms of theme and genre sometimes, so some, statistically, are going to be kind of niche! And that's okay! I guess the only thing I'd say is that even if you think something isn't your jam, unless the tags are specifically triggering you give it a try! The worst thing that'll happen is you get a paragraph in and then back out again. An extremely smart person (it was @xx-vergil-xx <3) recently said something along the lines that part of healthy interacting with art is also knowing when to put it down, but it's also important to give different things a chance so that you learn more about yourself and your preferences. I myself am trying to expose myself to and write more angst? Because it makes me deeply uncomfortable to do so! But that's a valuable feeling to know and recognize! Idk i just think we all get different stuff out of writing and it's just nice that I've been able to provide something to so many people <3
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romantic Serrennedy weed smoking scene because I don't want to wait until the stuff that happens before it is done to post it (think the necessary context is just that they're in a fancy hotel and fucked a lot the night before because they'll be apart a while for Luis's tour)
(basically just sweet fluff, but there's one paragraph where Luis talks about a bar fight he got into years before. but it's not angsty at all, he's laughing and bragging)
Baths are one of Leon's guilty pleasures. Leon wasn't one to appreciate life's finer things, so much of the hotel's luxuries were lost on him. But the bathroom? That he very much did appreciate. He was looking forward to the biggest bathtub he'd ever seen. Square, fancy jets, right by a huge window overlooking the city.
Leon soaks, Luis perches on the edge of the tub, bouncing his leg.
“You look like you want to ask something.”
“Would you mind if I smoked in here? Not cigarettes. Pot,” Well then. Leon figured he was going to ask if he could get in the tub with Leon, there's enough room. Pot is a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. It's been a while, but from what he remembers, pot makes Leon all sappy and romantic. “I know you don't like cigarettes.”
“Get in the tub with me,” Leon answers. “And share.”
“Deal.”
Luis leaves for a minute and then comes back with a joint he hands to Leon while he undresses. Leon would have liked to watch him undress (even though he knows what Luis looks like under the clothes, there's still something exciting about the process) but instead he takes a hit and coughs until Luis is already sliding in the tub next to him. He’s kind of embarrassed to be hacking up a lung. He has done this before, really, it's just been a while.
“This is nice,” Luis says, stretching out his legs and taking puffs that don't make him cough like Leon. “I've never been much of a bath person, but I've never been in a bathtub long enough for my legs.”
Leon is a lightweight and starts getting a buzz long before Luis, and slides to the other end of the tub. Luis looks a bit hurt.
“Just wanna look at you,” Leon explains. “You're pretty. I don't tell you that very much. You tell me I'm pretty all the time, I don't say it back. Not sure why, you are. Get why that girl threw her bra at you. Would've done the same thing if I had one. You looked so good up there. And sounded. Fucked up. Fucked up that someone's just allowed to look that hot. You shouldn't be allowed on the streets.”
Luis doesn't say anything, but smiles, very amused by the weed turning Leon into such a chatterbox.
“Perfectly imperfect,” Leon is still going, now staring at the scar on Luis's cheek. “I like the scar on your cheek. I wouldn't like your face as much if you didn't have it. You'd be too perfect, you need a flaw to balance it. How'd you get it? Sorry. That's rude to ask. I'm high.”
“Yeah, I can tell you are. It's okay. I really don't mind talking about it, I won the fight, it's a good story. I would have told you the story sooner if I knew you liked the scar. I've told you how people picked fights with my band. I got this the first time it happened. There was a girl flirting with me, I flirted back. Turned out she already had a boyfriend, who was very drunk. Also very confused. It was hilarious!” Luis succumbs to a giggle fit. He finished the joint, and while it's not hitting him like it is Leon, he's definitely high. “He was pissed I was flirting with his girl, but he was also pissed that I, in his opinion, looked gay. So somehow I wasn't attracted to women and that was bad, but I also was attracted to his girlfriend, which was also bad. He kept flipping between which thing he was mad at, it was so funny. But anyway, somehow it got physical, I really don't remember how honestly, just how it ended. My cheek got cut with a shard of glass. Bled a lot. The scar would probably be much less noticeable if I'd gotten stitches, but I was afraid to go… I broke a bottle on the guy's head. He had a concussion probably, his girlfriend dragged him out to take him to the ER. Was afraid I'd get arrested. So I just hurried to grab the rest of my shit and flee from the scene of the crime with my band, hoping he'd be too drunk to remember and tell the cops anything. Doubt they would have cared about what he did to me, just what I did. But it was okay. Didn't get in trouble, learned a lesson, got a neat scar. Never got into bad fights after. Learned to hit people with mic stands, things wouldn't escalate to emergency room bad if they didn't get close.”
“Really? The guy's head?” Luis nods. “What the hell. My boyfriend knows how to beat people up. That's hot. Badass. Didn't think that actually happened in real life. Thought it was just movie shit. Damn. I love you.”
“I love you too. All the time, but especially when you're high. Wouldn't have guessed you'd be a talker like this.”
“Should buy us a house with a big tub, we'll do this all the time then.”
“It's not like we need to both be in a bath to do this.”
“Yeah,” Leon pouts. “But I like baths.”
“We'll remodel if whatever house we buy doesn't have a tub up to your standards,” Satisfied, Leon goes back to smiling. “So, you were excited for last night, it live up to what you were expecting?”
“Fuck. Sure did. Glad you made me wait, was pretty romantic.”
“So… Up for another round after we're out of the tub?”
“Shit,” Leon wishes he could say yes. He wants as much Luis as possible before he leaves today. But part of why he wanted to soak in the tub so much was that he got a lot of Luis last night, to the point he's sore all over, outside and inside. It's the good kind of sore, like he'd get after working out, but it's still soreness. “Was too good, I'm sore. Might actually die if you do anything to me. I'll suck your dick though.”
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I understand the need to fight back against anti semitism in this country, especially against people who don’t care about Palestinians, but are happy to use them to make people think their bigotry is somehow morally justified. But it feels like ultimately, people still don’t care about Palestine. Israel has a right to defend itself from Hamas. I don’t think they should just lie down and accept terrorist attacks happening in their country. But they don’t have a right to attack innocent civilians for the crime of being in the same place Hamas is located. And I’m having a hard time believing that people aren’t being as terrible towards Muslims as they are towards Jewish people. I don’t think they need an excuse to hate somewhere with a mostly Islamic population. But that doesn’t seem to be as huge a concern. I understand where you’re coming from in that some pro Palestinian platforms in leftist spaces are dancing in just being loudly anti Semitic or for whatever reason think that the terrorists have a point when they want to spread fear by mass murdering innocents for their “cause”, but the rising rhetoric that supporting Palestine means you hate Jewish people when Palestinian lives are being wiped out in huge numbers feels wrong to me. It shouldn’t be a fight of which innocent lives in which country matters more, but that’s what it’s starting to feel like.
It's not "rising rhetoric" that to support Palestine means you hate Israel. It's a huge fucking problem that loud antisemites have taken over the largest, loudest parts of the movement to support and bring peace to Palestine and unquestionably turned it into an antisemitic shitshow. The only fix for that is people who support Palestine and don't hate Jews is to get louder and clean their fucking house.
That being said very directly, I will be focusing the rest of my answer on this portion of your ask, which I think is the most important chunk because you are sharing incorrect and intentionally wrong information, and I don't think you realize that's happening. I'll also be answering about the rise in Anti-Muslim activity because I think it's important we don't ignore what Anti-Muslim activity looks like right now versus Antisemitic activity. Because it's all fucking terrible, but it's important to consider that getting dinged by a car turning a corner is bad (happened to me) and getting hit by a car doing 20 mph is really fucking bad.
But they don’t have a right to attack innocent civilians for the crime of being in the same place Hamas is located. And I’m having a hard time believing that people aren’t being as terrible towards Muslims as they are towards Jewish people.
Israel isn't aiming at civilians on purpose. Hamas put military targets next to civilian targets to be able to claim Israel is aiming at civilians when they're bombing. This is a very well-known tactic of Hamas, and calling it "Israel bombing civilians" puts the fault of the situation on Israel, when they aren't the ones who did it. Hamas doesn't give a fuck about civilians. That's why the military installations are next to schools and hospitals. So they can point at the plie of bodies and go, "Look! Look what Israel did!" and fuck up the narrative to "Israel bombed a school!" and not "We very intentionally put a military installation next to this school because we will do anything we can to discredit Jewish people even if it means causing the death of our own civilians." This is a war crime, by the way. Putting military installations in places where they are likely to cause civilian harm. The Geneva Convention considers this sort of action a war crime.
I looked up Anti-Muslim stats for 2023 and found this article from ABC news that discusses a rise in Anti-Muslim and Anti-Sematic bias and attacks since October 7. I think this paragraph breaks it down well: There were 11 confirmed anti-Muslim hate crimes in New York City from Oct. 7, 2023, to Dec. 30, 2023, according to the NYPD, and 26 confirmed antisemitic hate crimes over the same time period -- a total of one anti-Muslim hate crime every 7.7 days, and one antisemitic hate crime every 3.3 days. There were just five confirmed anti-Muslim hate crimes from Jan. 1, 2023, to Oct. 6, 2023, according to the NYPD, and 49 confirmed antisemitic hate crimes (one every 5.7 days) over the same time period. So, yes, there has been a rise in bias against Muslims, and that's fucking bad. They shouldn't be bearing the brunt of Hamas's choices any more than every Jew in the world having to answer for anything Israel does. But--and this is incredibly important to this conversation--While Muslims are facing bias, Jews are facing VIOLENCE, and it was happening at a noticeably higher rate than violence against Muslims even BEFORE October 7. They are being told they should be eradicated. They are being told they should "go back to Poland" (what an astounding statement to make to Israeli Jews especially). They are being threatened for walking down the street and looking Jewish. It is a false equivalency to say "Well, there's a rise in Anti-Muslim bias, and no one is talking about it." Because the difference is--as detailed by the article linked above--bias on the job and in education along with immigration issues--and constant death threats and attacks on synagogues and Jewish businesses. Both things are wrong and awful, but one group is being told they should be murdered en masse AGAIN, and the other is not.
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I need to write my thoughts, so if you have no interest in Horizon: Forbidden West, then feel free to move along. No worries. But I have Thoughts about the Burning Shores DLC, more specifically the introduction of Seyka as a love interest. Spoilers abound; you've been warned. Also, not looking for a debate. I won't be debating. If you like Seyka and the romance, that's your business. I'm not here to change you mind. I'm just here to express my opinion.
Before anything else, let's address one thing: my opinion on this pair has absolutely nothing to do with it be a lesbian couple, or fuck's sake, Seyka's race. Anyone who knows me or has been following me for a while knows that none of that offends me, and I embrace diversity in all forms. So, for anyone inclined to do so, don't come at me in the comments/reblogs/tags trying to paint me like a villain because of my opinion on the plot and the romance itself as a plot device. Everyone knows this is the website where if you say ANYTHING negative about the above, there are going to be people who decide you're a bad person when you're not, and I don't feel like dealing with that.
Getting into it, I'm sure you could gather from the paragraph above the cut that I am not a fan of the Aloy/Seyka pairing. Seyka has grown on me a bit more since playing through the DLC a second time, but man do I think she makes a terrible first impression (and by "first," I mean the first time playing through the entire main story). I hate how she jumps down Aloy's throat for "keeping secrets" when she does the same thing, and I hate even more that Aloy gives a shit about how upset Seyka gets hearing about Nemesis coming to destroy life on Earth. Like, bitch, she asked. Don't get upset with the person who told you the truth when you asked for it, and don't feel somehow guilty about revealing the info when that's what the person literally wanted! To be fair to Seyka, she says something similar when she said "At least you were honest" when Aloy apologizes (again, why???) for "dropping that on her." So, there's that, I guess.
In general, I just think the whole romance was weird and out of place. If I had to choose between Seyka and no romance, I'd choose no romance. Personally, I ship Aloy with Avad. I really like Avad, I think he's cute and a good person, and I'd be interested to see how they would make that relationship work. Barring Avad, I like her and Erend, or even Talanah (Talanah's crush on Amadis notwithstanding). At least with any of those three, or even just Avad or Erend, there's history there. Aloy knows Seyka for, like, two weeks tops in game (going based purely off how many day/night cycles went by while playing through this time, more like 5-7 days). It feels very much to me like a summer camp fling: something that's fun and new, and you really get along with this person, but then you have to go home and back to reality, and eventually you forget about each other and move on. I'd be okay with her joining the squad back at the Base, but only as a friend. I really don't feel like dealing with that weird tension in the next game.
Which brings up my next point on why this romance is not good, in my opinion: why did they introduce it so late? Now, I enjoy DLCs. If they seem worth it, I'll buy them, because I love new content and places to explore, but I am also of the opinion that devs/writers shouldn't put seemingly important characters or character development into extra, and clearly optional, content. If it wasn't in the base game, then it's not as important. Otherwise, it would have been included, again, imo. There are going to be people who won't play Burning Shores, and if Seyka makes an appearance in Horizon 3, a lot of people are going to be lost, confused, and reasonably annoyed. I've kind of shipped Aloy with Avad for two entire games at this point, but they're going to introduce an actual whole ass love interest for Aloy in a DLC that you can only play AFTER you've beaten the base game/main quest line? That just feels so forced and strange, and I don't understand why they would do that.
I can understand Aloy not having romantic feelings for anyone in the first game. She's on a mission to find out where she came from and why, stopping another end of the world with HADES, etc. And while the second game is similar, this is also Aloy's character growth journey. She learns how to make friends and rely on them. She learns that she doesn't need to take the fate of the world onto her shoulders, that she can share that burden with people she learns to trust. So introducing a love interest in Forbidden West feels reasonable--but not in a DLC at the end of the game. They should have introduced Seyka much earlier. Hell, I might have even accepted her introduction when meeting Alva at the Greenhouse or going to retrieve Alva and delve into Thebes! I would have been MUCH more receptive to Seyka/Aloy then! But after the whole story is over? Why? For what? What was their thought process???
I've already had an attachment to another character for Aloy to fall in love with, and went the entire second game thinking that maybe she and Avad could have something (because, at least the way I play/interpret it, they seem to have something, even if it's only a mutual respect--I mean, Avad clearly has a crush, but I play Aloy like she reciprocates, but is just too busy to think about it). All that only for some random person to show up and get shoehorned into the plot at the last second and go "hey, look at me! I'm hot and badass, AND a carbon copy of you, Aloy! I have all your physical abilities, the same temperament and outlook on life with only minor differences, and we both even have sisters! Isn't that awesome? Aren't I awesome? Now, act like a weird, stuttering mess as you develop this weird and out-of-character attachment to me after knowing me for a week."
I've run out of steam writing this now, but I think I got my point across. This crush of Aloy's just feels so out of place and out of character. It would have been much better had it not been so abrupt and fast. If she'd had the whole game, or at least a decent chunk of the MAIN game to develop it, I would be more receptive, but this? I just can't. I don't like it. ANY romance introduced THIS LATE and THIS QUICKLY is bad.
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FINAL: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics
Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:
Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)
a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:
He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.
Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming
Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.
His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."
I could honestly give him a lil smooch
He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied
He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki
instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched
I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile
Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)
I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.
I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction
My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.
After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that
I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop
I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded
I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet
I have visions of him
One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise
honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him
I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)
He's literally an architect
I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas
i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present
my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN
I've attempted slam poetry about him
I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand
I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that
the Bimodal Distribution
First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy
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have you been to twitter recently. ppl are accusing gege of things and they're even bringing up the mei mei and lil bro scenes from a long time ago..💀 reminds me of something that happened in one of your other fics
stop i get pissed just thinking back on it 💀🤚
ooooooh my god they're so annoying 😭 ppl are seriously accusing gege of incest because of what he put in his fictional works?? not only that but did you see them attacking myamura too???
context: one of my fic series has dark content in it and I explicitly warned my readers about the kind of stuff to expect. Fast-forward some chapters later, I get readers accusing me of supporting that shit and even complaining about the dark stuff... THAT I ALREADY WARNED THEM ABOUT. SO MANY TIMES.
What's worse is that I cross-post on wattpad and wattpad has a feature that allows you to comment on every paragraph. When I went back to my warnings, I noticed that the ppl complaining about the dark stuff had commented on my list of warnings in the past.
They knew what was gonna come. But had the audacity to act shocked and bitch at me for the stuff they were already warned about 💀 Even worse, they had so many chances to stop?? They read my warnings, if they didn't like it, they should've stopped reading ugh. Some of these guys continued to even read the sequel books??? like i thought they hated it??? pls stop omg???
On twitter I see ppl doing the same thing rn.
Even though Myamura translated Sukuna saying that he plans on killing Yorozu/Tsumiki to break Megumi, ppl somehow deluded themselves into thinking that they're gonna do some "freaky" stuff in the next chapter 💀
Sukuna literally said he was gonna kill her. Not fuck her. And they weren't even flirting in the last panel so wtf
There's no incest because Tsumiki and Megumi aren't related so pls stop calling it incest because ur just lowering the seriousness of that word (and I know some Americans have the tendency to do that with other serious words too smh)
And when they get called out, they're like "you can't blame us because gege has a history of writing problematic stuff all the time like mei mei and her brother, the maki and mai kiss, etc!!! it's gross!! he clearly likes it!!"
those instances happened like... almost 100 chapters ago. Why are you still reading if you don't wanna see problematic content??? We're literally on ch 216 rn, you ppl had SO many chances to stop reading. Pls stop pretending to be "moral" about fictional content that you deem problematic and continue to read said problematic content while also complaining about that problematic content.
They clearly enjoy the manga if they're still reading it and keeping up with the leaks 🤭 idk why they gotta pretend to hate stuff about it in order to look "moral"
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