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just learned that the entire Creatures series is on steam and it feels like there's an alien about to explode out of my chest
if you don't know what these are, they were one of the first life simulators ever. You hatch and raise these various little ai beasts called Norns in their funky spaceship and teach them everything they know and keep them safe, and they have emotions and personalities and families and can breed and have mutations and get sick, and there's medicine and chemicals and so much more brainy nonsense if you care to get into it, and it all goes SO IN-DEPTH... IT'S INSANE THAT THIS SERIES WAS FIRST RELEASED IN 1998!!!
and as far as i know there's still a semi-active modding community! LIKE THEY JUST RELEASED A NEW DLC SPECIFICALLY FOR MODDERS LESS THAN A DAY AGO ARE YOU KIDDING. HUH?? i didn't even know that until 2 minutes ago sorry that is my live reaction. what. 20+ year old game just got a new dlc 12 hours ago coincidentally just when i rediscover the series. okay. im being so normal right now👍
#medi bee talking#coming back from the dead specifically to be abnormal about a 20 year old game series#my fucking childhood game(s)#the first games i ever played in my pathetic life right next to putt-putt#spore came later but it still deserves an award for childhood game i think. but this isnt about her#this is the quickest ive ever bought something in my life#the emotions that shot through me when i opened up the steam page and heard their little norn noises and the sounds of the spaceship#i've kept the discs for 1 and 3 (i never had 2) all these years and would occasionally go through the trouble of installing them#for that sweet succulent nostalgia hit#but paying a few dollars to have them safe and soundly digital on my steam account is worth so fucking much to me#even if im probably going to have to fiddle with the settings to get the albian years games to work on my modern computer#nobody talk to me im reliving my childhood (PLEASE tell me im not the only one who played these games PLEASE)#my insane bias wants to recommend this game to everyone in the world#sadly im not sure the younger generation would get it. whatever i dont even care (cares a lot)
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tears of the kingdom could have been so good if it were built around like, its story or its characters instead of being a clunky shell to show off the mechanic no one asked for that it forces you to use
#*#text#totk#mechanics#i had fun scuttling around in the depths for a while but that got old eventually. for obvious reasons#what i liked about zelda games was always the atmosphere and character interactions#like. one of my favorite games is twilight princess. which is. deeply unserious in many ways#bit it COMMITTED to its setting and what the writers went ham making sure#that it was still full of whimsy and affection.#totk doesn't have that. the characters are all 1) instruction manuals or 2) vehicles for what small and disparate semblances of plot#survived whatever disaster must have happened in development that made them cannibalize several different ideas#and stick them into the shell for the fucking. arm#totk plays like a gallery or again just an engine for the building thing.#it's pretty. the music is good. the building thing is well made. but as a zelda game totk Fucking Tanks#i HATE overinvolved mechanics. i HATE having to stop and rely on a Whole Process that i have to keep stocked#to get anything done. i've always liked loz again bc of characters and whimsy but also bc it's always been mechanically vert streamlined#and accessible to someone like me who is disabled and finds fiddling EXTREMELY tedious#you have one required tool per dungeon and they're QUICK they're SIMPLE they're A GOOD TIME#totk. to me. is just clunky and has no redeeming qualities outside of again being pretty and still sort of nominally letting you run around#collecting things. some of the side quests were cute. but even then the characters were very.#THE THING ABOUT ZELDA GAMES IS THAT IM used TO THEM BEING ABOUT. NOT JUST THE FUNCTION!!!!!!#there were things— many of them! sometimes most of them even!!!— there just for fun. again almost especially The Characters#totk is so goddamn UTILITARIAN on all levels ITS. CLUNKY and BORING i don't WANT to have to do 30 things just so i can do something else.#hey nintendo. if you have to force people to play your game. like if you specifically have an ''open'' game and then subsequently have to#manufacturer MANY blocks and caveats to the idea of ''do whatever have fun!!'' so that it's''but only how WE want you to''. maybe thats bad.#maybe you've done a bad job. if again. you have to FORCE players to go about things in the way and order that you want. it's no fun.#like even zelda games where you have less options and linear progression feel less restrictive bc like. they don't fucking punish you.#for. playing the game. you just can't do things. totk really punishes you for going off script. which like. why even do that.#anyway. this is all probably incoherent. i'm right tho.#wow there are so many typos. pretend there are not <3
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lights off
College AU Bestfriend!Beomgyu x Gn!Reader .. not exactly fluff! kinda suggestive? ♡ Warnings: thunder? rain? ig being in the dark? my first time writing kissing .. my first time actually writing ANYTHING so it might be bad im so sorry guys ♡ A/N: this is my first little fic (if you could call it that)! i literally hate it but i think i got the point across LOLL regardless i hope someone will enjoy please lmk what you think <3 lowercase intended + not proofread ~
7:32 pm. sighing softly, you placed your phone that was softly playing your favorite tunes back down on the small table over your lap. you tapped your pencil on the table in frustration as you once again for the fifth time readjusted your legs on the bed of your best friend's bedroom. time was going by excruciatingly slow and it didnt help that this math problem was taking you a million years to solve. the sun had already set outside and heading back to your dorm seemed less favorable by the minute. hearing a soft shuffle from the other side of the room you looked up at your best friend. rain began to patter outside. looks like you'll be staying for longer than you intended. beomgyu, who had his deep-colored headphones on was moving his head to the music as he wrote down notes from his study guide. his hair softly wrapped around his features most attractively. you began to mentally trace the lines of his nose, his eyes… his lips.. the dim lighting of the room adding more charm to his aura. "y/n..? are you okay? i could feel you burning holes into my head." beomgyu said as he shook off his headphones to fully put his attention was on you. snapped out of your daze, you mentally kicked yourself as you felt embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. how long had you been staring at him for..? "sorry gyu. if i was staring i didnt mean to" you softly laughed, trying to seem nonchalant and cool about the situation. beomgyu, seeing your embarrassment, chuckled at your reaction. "youre okay, i know you look at me because im cute" he grinned and you rolled your eyes. "oh shut up! you know i was daydreaming. i cant focus on this assignment anyways, its too hard. i think im gonna just finish it tomorrow." you smiled as you threw a pillow at him. he was always cheeky when he had the opportunity. anything to see you react. "daydreaming? so you do think im cute?" he grinned wider after recovering from your pillow attack. you huffed and placed the table that was on your lap onto the ground. "you know youre so-.. ugh and what if i do think you're cute?! what would you even do about it, huh?" you retaliated as you sat on the edge of his bed, now fully facing him. you faked a pout as you were feeling a bit bolder than usual today. your homework giving you enough pent-up rage to have the energy to give in to his bickering.
"okay well i dont know how much truth there is to that but if you really meant that id probably kiss you." your eyes widened at his response. you see beomgyu's face turn into an unreadable expression. he hadnt realized you were only half joking and fully meant the compliment, but it was too late and by the time he caught wind that you were actually flustered he felt his stomach flip. even he was shocked by his own words. he slipped. had he said too much? after a few seconds of silence that felt like minutes. the rain outside seemed to get louder. his eyes finally met yours and you looked away. you felt your heart pounding at the thought of you saying too much. both of you overthinking the situation and awkwardness that you both never have had before taking place. you and beomgyu have never had an awkward moment like this. normally you both laugh things off but this time felt different. "you trust me right?" his voice sounded sincere. this tone was rare for you to hear from him but you knew immediately he was being genuine with his question. "h- huh? yeah of course.. why?" you responded. "okay well.." you noticed beomgyu was now fiddling with his headphones, it seemed like he was turning all the gears in his head to get out what he wanted to say. "y/n.. theres a chance you may have not been telling the truth but if you were- look regardless if you meant it, i meant what i said." you could feel your stomach turning. he hardly flirted with you but when he did it always felt different from his usual teasing. you never said anything though, in fear of ruining your friendship. yet you always thought about what it would be like if he also returned the feelings you felt.
the room's atmosphere seemed to change. suddenly you were both hyper-aware of his neon led light being the only source of light aside from his computer. your playlist had stopped and the silence felt unbearable. in one swift move, he stood up, and turned off the led light on his wall.
the room was a lot darker now, his computer screen's light being the only way of telling you what he was going to do next. you watched as he plopped down next to you. he was so close that you could see the slight tinge of pink on his ears. your senses began to be filled with the light scent of his cologne. "i.. look- the only way i can say or do this is if the lights are off- im not trying to be weird its just you make me so nervous.. i cant look at you." he mumbled as he looked at your hands resting on your lap. it was so dark and both your hearts were racing. "gyu.. " was all you could muster with his hands now softly on yours.
"can i…" beomgyu began as he leaned in closer, only centimeters away from your face. his eyes staring intently into yours. he had this look of pure admiration, nervousness and love. it was all too surreal. realizing what he was asking, you silently nodded as you stared at his lips. he pressed his forehead on yours, the thick tension in the air causing your body to tingle in anticipation. as you felt his hair softly tickle your features from him leaning in, your lips connected. he kissed you oh so softly as he held your cheek gently. your hands, as if moving on their own, were softly placed on his arms. his lips softly moving along your own. he was patient. it felt as if he was waiting for you to respond, unsure if what he was doing was okay with you. you moved your head to the side slightly to deepen the kiss, causing him to sigh. it was all he needed to know you felt the same. his hands moved to your waist as you settled your fingers into his long hair. softly pushing him towards you to intensify the kiss. all that could be heard was the rain outside aside from the soft exchange of sighs and hands roaming. "ive liked you for so long.. you have no idea.." he began between kisses. it was all passionate, slow, and tender as if he was handling you like glass. his hands pulled your waist impossibly closer to his. he separated first, leaving you craving for more. "trust me, i liked you so much i was so scared you didnt feel the same way despite you teasing me the way you did." you chuckled as you pecked his cheek. "you drive me insane.." he softly spoke. "y/n, every time i tried to say something.. my brain just went to mush.. its so bad i swear. i could only be this confident with the lights off.." beomgyu laughed as his eyes began to trail your facial features. he was admiring every curve and feature, and at that point, both your faces were impossibly red. "gyu.. can you just.. kiss me again..?" your voice came out hardly a whisper. "i like you so much i feel like im going insane from the way you just confessed." he smiled fondly at your words and nodded, leaning in once again. as soon as your lips touched you could both practically feel the electricity pouring through your bodies. as if on cue, thunder struck the moment you connected again. your arms wrapped impossibly tight around him, slightly tugging and playing with his hair. his arms remained at your waist, slightly circling over the shirt you wore. you could feel the warmth of his fingers through the fabric.
his tongue slightly swiped along your lips for permission, and you parted your lips in response. having his tongue explore your mouth had your brain going numb. time felt like it had stopped, with just the rain as your only witness to the quiet whispers and confessions that only you two could hear. when you both finally were running out of breath, you separated with beomgyu looking into your eyes. you stared back, lips equally as glossy as his. "are you.. going back to your dorm yet?" thunder struck once again, as if responding to his question. you smiled. "its raining a little too hard dont you think?" beomgyu chuckled, realizing how silly his question was. "yeah. youre right, i think you should stay." you bit your lip as you pulled off each other, both of you immediately missing the warmth. beomgyu shook his head fixing his now fluffed hair thanks to you as he ran his fingers through. he then stood up to turn the led light he had turned off previously back on. "so.. how about we watch a movie?" he spoke as the light clicked. you could almost burst into laughter from the question given the events that just happened a minute prior. give it to choi beomgyu, your best friend, to turn a situation less awkward by simply being his charismatic self. the personality you fell for since day one of knowing him.
"sure gyu, but.." you trailed off, shy about what you were about to say next. honestly, could this get any more awkward? "yeah?" he turned to you and tilted his head in that attractive way he does. "leave the lights off." you looked at him with a shy smile. he flushed at your words. and for the last time again, lightning struck. "yeah.. lights off" he replied, led light clicking once again.
#tomorrow x together#txt x reader#beomgyu x reader#txt scenarios#txt imagines#beomgyu x y/n#BakeryTreat♡
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MATT BUT ITS THE AUDIO I SENT U
UNREQUITED PT. 2 matt sturniolo
summary: pt 2 of unrequited love, you make some plans that take a turn for the worse
genre: PURE angst
cw: mentions of self deprecation, flirty jokes
a/n: for my lobe, @iha8you , hope you enjoy it, sorry for what happened again, fuck him!
Its been 2 months since i started distancing myself from the triplets and anything involving them, more precisely, matt.
Of course they noticed, i have more than 11 missed called from nick, not trusting my messages saying “im fine, just busy, ttyl” Im never like that, not with them at least. Today I’ve made up my mind, im going to put my silly feelings aside and hang out with my friends, its was i need, it’ll do me good, i know it will. They pick me up from my house, the drive to theirs being the most awkward thing in the world, worse than telling a server at a restaurant “you too!” In response to “enjoy your food”, yeah. No one said a word, that was the worst, its everyone expected someone to say something but no one dared to break the silence. I think I could see matt smirk in the rear view mirror, I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion, did he find this amusing? We arrived home a few minutes after, which felt like an eternity. I undid my seatbelt and we all went to the front door, waiting for nick to get the keys, he fiddled with them, trying to open the door
“Whenever you want nick” Chris said sarcastically, annoyance visible in his voice, as he always did when he bickered with his brother. Eventually, he got the door open and we all got set up inside, I sat on the couch with nick next to matt and chris.
“Do y’all wanna watch a movie or…?” Nick said looking around, everyone nodded, including me, I would rather just watch a movie then have to talk. I cleared my throat and crossed my legs, getting comfortable. Nick got up after putting on a scary movie and went to get some drinks and snacks
“I’ll come help you!” Chris exclaimed, he probably just wanted to make sure no one got his pepsi, but whatever. I come to the realization me and matt are alone on the sofa, the movie is paused, we glance at eachother awkwardly, even if we never argued or said anything about how i felt, we both knew something was up, he was the first one to break the silence.
“Hey you can talk to me you know, you act like you love me or something” he laughed off, my stomach dropped, did he know? No, that’s impossible. I laughed along.
“No I’ve just, just been really busy and-“ i get cut off. “C’mon don’t tell me that bullshit, I know you haven’t been THAT busy to hang out with your favorite friends” he said rolling his eyes, he hit my shoulder playfully. He touched my shoulder. I looked down, trying to find a better excuse, or hoping that he’d just let it slide.
“Well, I’m just reall-” saved by the bell. “LOVEBIRDSSS got the popcorn, drinks, and ready for another hour of edward scissorhands” Nick said placing the popcorn onto the table, crossing his legs over the couch, and grabbing the remote. I let out a sigh of relief, matt looked over at me and huffed, im sure he’ll forget. Chris put his feet over matt’s lap and sipped his soda.
After the movie ended, it was fenomenal as always by the way, we got to talking, great.
“So y/n, what have you been up to? We really haven’t seen you at all these months” Chris spoke between handfuls of popcorn. Nick nodded along
“Well i-“ I glanced over at matt, he was looking at me, of course he would, im speaking, what am i even saying? “I’ve had a heavy month of recording and editing videos, im in the middle of looking for a new editor, AND im getting my drivers license, so yeah, pretty bus- occupied…” I explained to them, half of that was true, i WAS looking for a new editor, just not actively doing so, and i AM getting my license, just not till January…but they bought it, which is the important part.
“Well we’ve all missed you around here” nick scooched next to me. I smiled in return.
“Yeah especially matt” Chris said suggestively, prolonging the word matt in a singsongy voice. Im sure he didn’t mean it that way, was he mocking me?. Matt just rolled his eyes.
“Sure, well im not the one who’s in love with me” he smirked at me, I scoffed, again? Really? Its like everyone is in on a big inside joke but me, and i hate it.
Nick notices my discomfort and diverts the attention from me.
“Hey how about we call Alanha and Madi and we go to Mcdonalds or something” he suggested. “Yeah that sounds great!” I responded, the other two agreed in unison, and we left the previous subject alone, thank god.
As we pulled up to Alanha’s house, Madi and her went out of the door and got into the backseat next to me and Nick, we squeezed in all we could, we laughed about it a bit, it was a relief to see them really, Madi was the only one, along with some other gfs, that knew about it.
“Y/n! Its so good to see you, its been forever” Alanha side hugged me, with difficulty in the cramped car.
“Yeah i know, its good to see you guys too” I smiled at both of them, the car ride to the Mcdonalds drive thru was short, thankfully. Matt lowered the music as the speaker took our order, everyone whispering theirs to him, he remembered my order. We pulled into the parking lot, sorting out all the food.
We decided to eat out in the car park, it was dark so there was no one there, so it was quiet and peacful, we were eating our food and making jokes, Matt kept on slipping little flirty remarks but I ignored them, after all, he was just making fun of me.
“Fuck arent you guys cold?” Madi shivered, rubbing her hands together, it was chilly but we all had at least a hoodie on.
“Here, im warm from all the food” Matt took off his hoodie. He handed it over to her. She put it on. “oh” i thought.
All the sounds around me kind of tuned down, furrowing my eyebrows and snapping myself out of my state, my breathing got a little heavier, i shook my head. Why was a being so dramatic? For the love of god, he just gave her his hoodie, its not like he declared his undying love for her or something, either was it still hurt a little, im lying, it hurt a lot. Madi put her hands in the pocket of Matt’s black ransom hoodie, she smiled and the conversation carried on, but I wasn’t paying attention
“Y/n? Y/n are you theree?” Nick waved a hand in front of my face.
“Sorry I just zoned out there for a sec” I laughed somehow, I didn’t know if it was really visible in my face how upset I was.
“Oh im sorry did you want my hoodie” Matt joked, everyone else laughed along, it was an innocent little joke for them, i get it. I bit the inside of my cheek, he took my feelings as a hilarious thing, as if I was the kings jester. I breathed in, trying not to let the stinging feeling of tears in my eyes win over, I didn’t wanna be the one to say they wanted to go home, so i just waited, not participating in the conversation, but laughing and nodding along at the right times to not raise any suspicions, eventually, Alanha said she had to be up early in the morning, if we could go home, so we did.
“Guys just drop me off here” I sighed, getting out of the car, waving little goodbyes to all of them. Another successful night, drained, the only comfort being my bed and being enveloped by my fluffy sheets. Another night wondering if there’s something wrong with me, and another night realizing once again that hope is, indeed, a dangerous thing for someone like me to have.
a/n: everyone say “fuck you danny!” 🙂🙂 @iha8you
should i do a taglist or something?😭 tell me if u dont wanna be on this
@dwntwn-strnlo @oneirophobic @20nugs @mettsturniolo @iha8you @lvrsparadise @gabbylovesreading
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo angst#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo image
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you REPLIED IM SO HAPPY😭😭🤞 btw the fact that suguru AND satoru are both her love interests im so HAPPY stsg for the WIN!!! i love how suguru and shoko automatically know what satoru is implying cause hes so so OBVIOUS!
i cant imagine the troubles suguru and satoru would have with reader.. shes so enduring and she allows them to do whatever because shes too sweet! ofc shes serious when the time comes down to it but i just know she takes the two lightly and cares too highly of their opinions to really say no to them. i 100% know suguru is worst when it comes to teasing her. in this universe i want to believe suguru does not deflect so he stays there w them. although reader probably does not realize the two actually is in love with her, she probably assumes they are with each other so she does not want to intrude.
what if shoko and reader were discussing about first dates and she finds out reader never had her first anything and sets her up with one? maybe rin or shin?! LOL and behold satoru and suguru being menaces and completely mean to her . the trouble they would cause to the way they would be so upset. reader actually enjoyed her first date but shes confused why stsg are so upset over her. they always teased her for not having a bf and when she does try theyre even more ruthless?? bc in reality to stsg they always thought she belonged to them and they’re actually in shock that shoko would do that knowing about their crushes on reader? (cue shoko laughing in the background)
i love these asks smmm😭 tysm for sending. and ur right!! i have chapter one and two written and posted on my ao3, but suguru doesn’t defect, i cant allow that. and yes… stsg are sooo annoying when it comes to jealousy. like they are so suffocating..
this is new, very new.
it was a brief conversation, so mundane you wouldn’t bother to remember it unless brought up. shoko asked a simple question. “you ever been on a date before?” after talking about her horrible experiences with lousy men. it was an easy answer, “no.”
and you thought it’d end there. of course it’s normal for girls your age to go on dates with other people, experience the life of romance at a young age, but it wasn’t odd to meet a girl your age who hadn’t been on a date. so you weren’t sure why shoko put you up to this.
rin sits across you with a beaming smile, the fluorescents of the cafe highlighting his freckles. you fiddle with the warm cup of coffee in front of you. you weren’t much of a coffee person, but you panicked and ordered the first thing on the menu. it was bitter, terribly so, you weren’t sure whether you’d prefer this or satoru’s cups of diabetes.
you sip on it occasionally, to make yourself look engaged. you hope your poker face has improved, you’d be humiliated if the bitterness on your tongue manifested itself onto your expression (rin noticed, but felt too awkward to speak up).
it’s weird, and you try pretending this wasn’t set up at a romantic date.
you like rin, he’s really nice, but you’d never even imagined him romantically.
he’s beaming at you, you think he’s blushing, and he looks as if he’s in a daze with his cheek resting on his palm. the look of adoration is so shell shocking you’re gazing around the cafe at other customers he might be looking at.
you chalk it up to excitement of being in such a nice place.
conversation with him is easy though, you realize.
it’s unlike satoru or suguru. suguru’s a listener, unlike satoru who’s a talker. they fit in so well with one another it makes it hard to fit in. you don’t mind that, watching from afar is enough for you. but you still yearn.
maybe that’s why shoko did this in the first place. to get your mind off of them. you suppose it wouldn’t be bad to broaden your spectrum, you needed more friends anyway. you couldn’t always hang onto shoko, suguru, and satoru forever.
hours pass, and before either of you know it, the sun sets.
rin was full of stories, he had so much to tell about kyoto, his classmates, and his missions. he was so fond of it all that you couldn’t bear to stop him. it was nice listening to someone on the same level as you. not that you disliked listening to satoru boast about his missions and how awesomely strong he was, but it was a nice change of pace to hear such things come from someone of your caliber.
you could get used to this.
your entering the school with a content face. you feel them both before you see them.
satoru drapes himself onto you, talking obnoxiously loud in your ear as suguru sends you a soft smile. your company with rin was wonderful, but you didn’t realize how much you missed your favorite people until you see their visages.
“where were you at for so long?” suguru asks calmly, though there’s a hint of something else you can’t really decipher. maybe suspicion.
“shoko set me up on a date with rin.” you say sheepishly, scratching your cheek.
they both freeze, you can feel the way satoru’s breath stutters as his hold gets loose. you look up at them both, brows raised.
…
it’s so silent. was it something you said? were they perhaps upset you didn’t say anything? did they want to tag along? you would’ve said yes immediately.
“rin from kyoto?” satoru whispers, and you think he sounds angry. you can’t fathom why, so you try and brush if off. even though there’s a seed of dread starting to grow in the pit of your stomach.
“yes... shoko said something about chemistry. whatever that means!” you chuckle nervously.
satoru let’s you go, backing away. now you’re worried.
“i-is something wrong?” you look up at suguru for assistance but he’s turned his head.
you shuffle your feet, anxious. they’re obviously upset, but you don’t know why. “did i do something?” that’s the only thing you could think of. or did they not like rin? he was a nice guy, so you wouldn’t understand why.
satoru rubs your head, startling you.
“it’s nothing, sweets,” he says.
but he’s walking off before you can speak any further, he makes a point not to let you see his face as he departs. suguru gives you a strained smile before he’s following. “night,” he mutters.
and even though satoru reassured you, that seed of dread continued to grow.
satoru and suguru are busy. satoru hasn’t asked for your notes in awhile. you wanna assume that he’s got it down until you hear him loudly bugging suguru for his notebook. your heart drops at the fact that satoru just hasn’t asked you. you don’t know why that hurts, it shouldn’t. maybe suguru just conveys the answer better, there’s nothing wrong with that.
they go out for lunch, leaving you and shoko in the empty cafeteria with your cold noodles. shoko’s great company, of course, but the lack of satoru’s loud voice and suguru’s scolding makes it feel eerily quiet.
nights in the common room have shrunk to just you and shoko. it’s been like this for a few days. only a few days. yet you feel as if these days are dragging on slower than usual. shoko notices, and rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath how pathetic boys could be.
you think she’s spoken to them, for they look at you a little more now. but they barely talk to you unless the situation calls for it, even then, they’re awkward.
but it isn’t until shoko has been in high demand after a dangerous mission that the first years came back from that you’re alone with them. you’re nervous, feeling their eyes trained on you. you don’t dare make contact.
they begin talking to each other, and you feel joy consume you at the familiarity of it. you’re looking up now, making eye contact with the both of them. satoru opens his mouth, but you intervene.
“i’m sorry!”
their eyes are wide.
“i’m sorry for whatever i did. it’s just.. you guys feel distant. if it’s because of me then—”
“i should say sorry,” your eyes flit up to suguru’s as he scratches his neck sheepishly. “i was being childish.” he speaks into his palm. “we were being childish.” he corrects himself, eyes glaring into satoru’s, who huffs and crosses his arms.
“so it was something i did?” your brows knit as a frown etched itself onto your lips.
“it’s more complicated than that,” suguru says. but you’re not convinced.
satoru mutters something under his breath, you catch nothing but rin’s name. so you ask him to repeat himself.
“i just don’t like rin, is all.”
you blink.
“d-did he do something?” you needed to know, if he hurt or insulted suguru or satoru in any way you were ready to break it off—
“no. not exactly, we just… don’t like you being alone with him,” suguru admits, flushed.
oh!
you felt relief fill your chest.
“i think i know now.” you smile, happily. they stare. they both lean slightly forward, anticipating. “if i ever go out with him again i’ll invite you both out!” you clap your hands together.
they were upset that they weren’t invited along. that makes sense. you’re relieved. satoru did eye that cafe whenever you three passed it.
they share a look, one of amusement and one of exasperation.
“such a ditz,” satoru grumbles.
“we’d like that,” suguru smiles.
you’re happy, so happy you could cry tears of relief.
“i’m glad, i thought you were both gonna hate me forever.”
suguru grabs your hand, caressing your palm, your heartbeat spikes. “that’d never happen.”
satoru scoots closer to you and drapes himself over your shoulders, the familiar action has your cheeks hurting from how big you’re smiling. he squishes his cheek against yours, rubbing softly as he speaks, “never go out alone with rin again, okay? you need at least me or suguru there, not even shoko’s enough!”
they will never forget how she betrayed them so.
“of course,” you exhale, joyful.
and yes, abt stsg ur also right! this is kinda a poly thing. stsg love each other and the reader
#the reader genuinely can’t fathom being courted romantically#stsg.am#🫐.jjk#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#geto#suguru#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#getou#getou x reader#getou suguru x reader#getou suguru#suguru getou#suguru getou x reader
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domesticity - muse a rests chin on muse b’s shoulder to read/see what they’re holding
with matt again 😀
IM SORRY YOU JUST WRITE HIM SO WELL
ft a tiny snippet from my final honors research paper
☘︎ fascination ☘︎
I’ve been sitting at the kitchen table for a good 3 hours trying to get as much of my paper done as possible. My headphones play my favorite music helping me focus, so much that I don’t realize you’ve entered the room until I feel a pressure on my shoulder. Taking my headphones off I tilt my head in your direction.
“Hi there” I say, as I place a kiss on your lips.
“Hi honey. What are you working on?” You ask.
I’m about to answer but my thoughts are paused as I feel your hand gently gather my hair and move it over my left shoulder. This simple touch was enough to make my thoughts jumbled. With my hair off my shoulder you rest your chin on it and let your arms drape over my body. You hum, urging me to answer your question. My right hand instinctively goes to your hair, massaging your scalp as I talk. I love how affectionate you are, these little touches mean the world to me. I love when you rest your chin on my shoulder, curious to see what I’m doing. I love having you close to me, it’s comforting.
“My research essay. Did you know the precursor cells of the eggs you developed from were present in your mother when she was in her mothers womb? That’s three generations sharing the same environment. That means that when I was in my moms womb, I already had a lifetime supply of eggs my body would need for my children before I was even born. How cool is that? A woman is susceptible to any trauma experienced by her mother while she is in utero which then turns certain cells on and off in the precursor cells you develop from. It’s incredible” I ramble, wonder and amazement filling my voice as I mindlessly fiddle with your hands.
“Wow that’s interesting I mean I understood like half of what you said but that is so cool” you said, more so amazed with me and how invested I am in the work I’m doing rather than the information itself. “You’re such a nerd and I love it” you say, placing a kiss on my cheek.
“Oh shush. I think you’re just jealous I’m smarter” I joke back.
“I’m jealous that your research is getting more attention than I am. How about we go cuddle and you can tell me all about your research,” you retorted.
“You’ve got my full attention now. I’m all yours” I say, brushing my thumb across your cheek before closing my laptop.
Setting my work to the side, I stand up only to be swept off my feet and thrown over your shoulder. I don’t bother putting up a fight knowing that you’re taking me to your room to cuddle. My laugh reverberates throughout the house, in turn making you smile. Plopping me onto your bed, we get comfortable under the covers. Cozying up in your hold, I begin rambling on about all the things I’ve learned. Fully expecting you to have fallen asleep with all the information I’m throwing at you, I’m surprised to see your sweet blue eyes intently focused on me when I look up at you. I shyly smile realizing how boring this probably is.
“I can stop if this is boring, we can do something else” I say.
“No, never I love hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. You’re so smart honey I hope you know that and I know you’ll do amazing things in this world” you reassure.
I love how fascinated you are with the work I’m doing and how invested you are when I tell you about what I’ve learned. Your fascination will always be my favorite.
Taglist:
@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0 @im-a-matt-girl @iluvmatt @stxrniqlo @antisocialties
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Christmas Tree
Draco x Male Reader
Context: Part 2 to Wrapping Paper <3 It is now implied that my Huff!Reader dude's dad is the Slytherin, so sorry if you read the headcanons and make a different relative the Slyth. TT
Summary: Christmas Eve is going normal, until it isn't. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing.
Word Count: 796
The tree jingles. Ornaments glitter in twinkling light, and the garland rustles with a last firm jostle shoving the whole of it into a corner.
“Everyone in front of the tree, let me get pictures before I put the presents under it!” Your mom nudges the lot of you and your family into position.
Sugar cookie wafts in the air, warm with traces of fruitcake and a cooking turkey in the oven. Candles and string lights cast a cozy glow over your home.
Your mom fiddles with the settings of her camera. Just as her finger is lowering over the shutter button, five heavy knocks fall at your front door. Your mom sighs and lowers her head in exasperated defeat.
“I’ll get it.” You tell her. You slip away from your other relatives, through the house to the door.
You unlock and swing it open. Closing your eyes for just a second when the chilly breeze bites at your face, you adjust to the cold. You blink open. Behind a mountain of vibrant green, platinum blonde hair contrasts against the night sky outside.
“Are you going to let me in sometime this century?” Draco’s voice is strained. His arms shiver in the winter air. The pile of presents in them slides.
“Why are you here?” You step to the side, allowing room for Draco to squeeze past you.
“What, I can’t come visit my favorite Hufflepuff?” He wobbles as he enters. His face is tinged pink from the cold. “I even brought gifts, thought you’d be a little happier to see me.”
A smile tugs at your lips. “I’m your favorite?” You push the door shut behind him when he’s fully inside.
“The bar is in Azkaban, don’t let it get to your head.” He rolls his eyes. You tell yourself the way he flushes a deeper red is just the warmth of your house setting in. “Where are your house elves? I need to put these down.”
He steps to widen his stance. Your hands twitch into the air. You start pulling the presents from Draco’s grasp before they can slip again. The familiar wrapping paper from Stitches and Draughts smiles up at you, the glossy finish shimmering.
“We don’t have house elves, dear.” Your mom pipes up. She walks over, setting a hand on your shoulder. “Who’s this?”
“Ah,” You start. “Just a friend from school.”
She narrows her eyes at you. “You didn’t tell me we’d be having guests.”
“I didn’t know-”
“My apologies, Mrs. L/N. For showing up unannounced.” He cuts you off to explain.
He holds his hand out for your mom to shake, and introduces himself. You carry the presents further into your house to set them down by the tree.
“I knew you got on well with Slytherins, Y/N,” She speaks again. “But I hadn’t expected a Malfoy to turn up for Christmas.” You linger, and when you look back, her hand is still in his. Her brows are raised in surprise.
Draco preens like he’d caught the golden snitch. He fluffs up the lapel of his wool coat and smirks.
She tells him to take off shoes, waddling away back into the kitchen as he’s toeing them off. Snow falls from the soles onto your wooden floors.
“So this is your place, hm? Terribly small,” Draco remarks. His socked feet pad against the ground towards you until he’s standing close, closer than the size of your house can probably justify. “I reckon there’s more than enough room for the lot of you in the manor.”
You feel your face heat up. The sound of your family bickering amongst themselves roars like a fire through thin walls. Your grandfather sways into the room with you.
“That the seeker boy you've been fussing about?” He asks. “Your father’s losing his marbles over ‘im.”
In your peripherals, you see one of Draco’s eyebrows quirk up. “Ah, it’s a wizard family thing. Big deal in Slytherin.” You hurry out.
“Figured.” Your grandfather mutters back. He looks Draco up and down, then back at you, protectively. “Not like those pricks your father had to put up with, is he?”
You shake your head, and try not to let the embarrassment eat you alive. Your grandfather hums and continues down the hallway until he’s disappearing up a flight of stairs.
Silverware clinking echoes from the kitchen, stronger scent wading into the comfortable air. Turning, you see Draco’s expression morph into a cocky one.
“Fussing about?”
“Shut up.” You groan.
His smug look gives way for a genuine, toothy smile. Jagged canines gleam in the tree’s string lights. Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but hope whatever excuse he gave his parents to be here lasts long enough for dinner.
I tried to make the family as reader-accessible as possible without clogging it up with "X/N"s left and right. I had to google what british Christmas is like for this because all I had to go off of was my family and I don't think this would be very entertaining if the whole story was just reader and Draco listening to them argue in spanish. 😭
I will admit though, the idea of having to explain to Draco what de pinga means is hilarious. He just wanted to spend quality time together and now the reader has to tell him what a jinetera is and why his tia just called his dad one.
If there’s any typos, it’s because I wrote this while singing the national anthem to my sister. They’re playing gorilla tag and whenever they put their arm up they look like the statue of liberty. Like okay get into it George Washington. Singing while simultaneously writing is what I imagine k-pop idols feel like when they're singing and dancing. So basically I'm Bang Chan but for Draco fic.
Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @siuspider @dracoshusband @skrunklespoingo @esperfraud @joongbin @midwestemosblog @we2222 @ashton-laufeyson @0-alastair-0
#draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x male reader#draco x male reader#draco x reader#harry potter fandom#draco malfoy x reader#draco x y/n#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy fic#draco fanfiction#draco x you#draco malfoy x you#draco#x m!reader#x male y/n#x male reader#tagging is hard#lmk if there's any typos#krimuh
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6
Opening her front door, Emily screamed in excitement at the sight of her best friend. Cara had flown all the way from England to visit her. She was on the first plane she could get once she had heard about what Noah had done. The 3am facetime call from a distraught Emily had Cara re-arranging work and getting a plane as soon as she could. "Oh My God! I cant believe your finally here, Car!" Emily hugged her friend so tight. She needed this. She needed her best friend. Cara and Emily were two peas in a pod. They grew up together and knew everything about eachother. The good, embarrassing and ugly. Dumping her bags in Emily's guest room, not even bothering to unpack, Cara slumped on her sofa. "Tell me everything." Emily smiled at her. Cara hasn't changed abit and for that she was thankful. "Nothing to tell babe, I'm fine." Cara looked pointedly at her best friend and Emily could feel her eyes prickling under her knowing gaze. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Emily shook her head, trying her best at a smile. "No really, I'm good, honestly." The crack in her voice when she said it gave her away immediately. That was it. The floodgates opened and the tears came quick and fast. Cara pulled her close straight away as she sobbed into her friends chest. Sobbs turned in to borderline screams as all the hurt burst out of Emily. She had No one to turn to before Cara arrived. She hasn't been in Charming long so she had no close friends to turn to. She had friends from work ofcourse but none as close as Cara. "I-i just d-don't know what I did W-wrong-" she hiccupped trying to gain control of herself. "No." Cara snapped as she forced Emily to look up. "Fuck that. Fuck you for even allowing yourself to think that. That bastard is wrong. Cheating is the lowest of the low Em. To bring her home, invade YOUR personal space, your home. That disrespect is massive." Holding her face, Cara kissed her friends forehead. "Your amazing. And it's his fucking loss. I swear when i see him im gonna stomp on his balls." Emily smiled at her friend, despite the fresh tears flowing down her face. A knock on the door interrupted their moment. "I'll get it, you go unpack and get settled." Cara hugged her tight one last time before heading to her room. Emily wiped her eyes and quickly ran her hands through her wild hair, trying to make herself look less crazy. It was probably only the postman but she didn't want to open the door looking a state. She worked out very quickly gossip travelled fast in this town and she didn't want people knowing how much Noah had hurt her.
"Jax?" Confusion was clear in her voice as she opened her door. Worry crossed his face as soon as his eyes settled on her. Stepping forward, unable to stop himself he grabbed her face gently thumbs rubbing under her puffy eyes. "What's happened? Is something wrong?" Emily couldn't help but smile at his concern. "I'm fine." It was the same routine. Mask back on. Keep moving forward, put it away at the back of your brain. Jax clearly didn't believe her but didn't push it. "I've brought your Tupperware back from the other night." Unzipping his jacket he pulled the little blue lunchbag she had filled for him and handed it over. With a genuine smile she stepped back from the door way and let him come in. Shutting the door behind him, he followed her into the kitchen. "You didn't have to go out of your way to bring this back but thank you." Jax flashed her a smile as he leaned back against the counter. "Don't worry darlin' I was out this way anyway." A lie. But she didn't need to know that. Before Emily could say anything, Cara came bounding into the kitchen not noticing the new arrival. " So pick red or blue because I'm getting you laid tonight. Best way to get over a lad is get under another one is what they say isn't it?" Fiddling with the lacy underwear sets in her hand Cara didn't bother to look up. If she had she would've seen a bright red Emily and a smirking Jaxon Teller. "Car-" Emily tried to stop her ramblings but was cut off. " Not sure about the lace on this one, might be abit too much. You still have your nipple piercings in don't ya? Might have to avoid the lace. We want you rolling in pleasure not pain if you accidentally rip a titty off-" that was it. She couldn't stand it anymore. "CARA!" Emily screamed now tomato red. Looking up from the underware, Cara now spotted the god that was Jaxon Teller leaning against her friends counter, clearly enjoying this alittle too much. "Oh hello! I'm Cara, her best friend." Cara had no shame but Emily? Embarrassed was an understatement. "So what are the bars like in this town? We need young sexy men!" Emily covered her face with her hands at the boldness of her best friend. "Im not going drinking I'm getting inked tomorrow! You however have your fill! Charming is lacking in the sexy department though." Apart from Jaxon Teller, Emily mentally commented. "How about you guys come to the clubhouse tonight? There's always a party there. It'll make me feel better, you'll be safe there. Don't trust the bars in town all that much." The reluctance on Emily's face was obvious. Throwing his arm around her shoulders, Jax gave her a wink. "He won't be there darlin' I'll make sure. Also your friend wants Sexy men, where better to take her than the club house? We're the best looking fuckers around!"
With the pleading look on Cara's face and the smirk on Jax's, Emily quickly caved.
#jax teller x reader#sons of anarchy#jax teller#jax teller imagine#jax teller x oc#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy fanfiction
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Fundamental Differing
Chapter XVI: You’ll Cry But You’ll Never Fall
nav | masterlist | playlist | pinboard | chapter XV | get on the taglist!
summary: The secret hometown Corroded Coffin / Death Dance Approximately show does not go as smoothly as any of you would like, and the memories of Hawkins infiltrate your memories again.
tags: ANGST (more than usual?), violence, swearing, excessive alcohol consumption, fighting/arguing, trauma talk, overall just a very sad chapter imo but i’m also very proud of it.
a/n: this is my lil honor to sinéad, my heart goes out to her family and i’m so very upset to hear of her passing. This chapter is also one of the heavier ones, please feel free to skip it or read it slowly if it feels like too much. thank you guys for your continued support as always. ALSO, im seeing a lot of blog name changes and deactivations, so please let me know if you aren’t getting notifications and want to! i’ll see to fixing the taglist for next time 🩷 Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!
—
October 1987
“Can I show you something?” Eddie stumbles into bed, his Warlock in his grip, a bowl of chips in the other hand.
“Of course, my love.” You pluck a chip from the bowl, shifting your body to face Eddie as he sits beside you. His fingers dance across the chords, and you sway as he begins to sing. When he finishes, you look at him in awe. “Is it done?”
He nods, eagerly. He’s been fighting with this song for almost a year, and you can tell he’s so proud of himself. It makes what you’re about to say that much more difficult. “May I?” You extend your hand, and he nods, handing you his guitar. You know the chords well enough by now to play it, and you start in with your eyes closed. “What if, instead of a major chord, you used a minor?” You play it again with your revision. “And what if, instead of Don’t let go, you could say don’t let go of me?” You sing the line for him, and watch as his face contorts, brows furrowing, lips pursed. You stop. “Or not, it’s beautiful regardless.” Suddenly, you’re embarrassed for even suggesting it.
“No, it’s not that. I’m just mad you made it so much better in two seconds.” He scoffs, and you can tell he’s upset.
“I didn’t mean to overstep, ali know this song has been kicking your ass, as just thought-“
“It’s fine, Y/n, really. Forget about it.” He takes his guitar from you, and leans it on his side table. Before you can say anything else, he’s turned the light off and pulled the covers up to his chin. no goodnight kiss, No I love yous exchanged.
-
Present Day
Eddie’s POV
He makes his way back to the dressing room, which is more of a closet behind the curtains of the small stage. He’s comfortably drunk, aching still with the words he’d overheard earlier as Sinéad O’Connor’s Drink Before The War floats through the speakers. You and Steve stand backstage, him adjusting your mike pack while you fiddle with your in-ear, the rest of your band tightening their instruments or twirling their drumsticks while you talk amongst yourselves. “Eddie!” You call, before he can open the door and slide by you, unnoticed. “C’mere a sec?”
Begrudgingly, he approaches you. You’re draped in a black skirt that sweeps the floor, and a black velvet tank top that shimmers when the light hits it. “Lilith had an idea, and I know this is so last minute, but what would you think about doing the song we wrote together? I know it’s probably too rusty for you, but I figure it could be a treat, for the little hometown show? It’s alright though, if you don’t wanna.” You shrug, but something in your eyes pleads with him.
“Sure, yeah.” He says coolly, confused by the question. Why would you want to, after what you’d said? “Where should we put it, in the set?”
“Was thinking, at the end of DDA’s, we have less time, but we have the room for it. D’you still know the chords?”
He fights off a humorless laugh. “‘Course I do. Just gimme the signal, and I’ll be right out. But we don’t have lyrics.” You nod, beaming, “Oh, but I do! I’ve been mulling them over, I hope that’s alright?”
The panic is palpable, he has no idea what he’s in for. “‘Course it is. See you out there.” He gives a curt nod before turning away, entering his dressing room without another word.
-
Your POV
“He’s being weird, right?” You turn to Steve, who’s just finished fluffing your hair out into the disheveled, rocker look you love.
“Of course he is, he’s Eddie. Now, get out there! They’re excited to have you back home.” He’s right, you can hear the restless crowd growing louder, more excited as your set time inches closer. “DDA! DDA!” The chant crescendos, and the house lights dim.
“Break a leg,” Steve plants a kiss on the crown of your head, and you wrap your arms around him. “and kick some ass.”
You turn to your band for the huddle, the pre show ritual, and let Sylvie lead the way to the stage. The crowd erupts as you take your marks, pressing out across a stage half the size of what you’ve grown used to this past month.
“HAWKINS, INDIANA!” You exclaim, drowned out by the audience as Lilith starts a drumroll. “We are Death Dance Approximately, from right down the street, are you ready to fucking PARTY?!” The response is a cacophony of screaming, just the way you like it.
“One, two, three, four,” Lilith taps her sticks together, and you jump into your first song. You open with Indiana, an ode to home, and you feel the weight float from your shoulders. The house is packed, and you recognize a face every few minutes, whether from school or just around town. Your friends are occupying a table on the side of the stage, and you can barely make out their faces. They dance and sing along though, and at some points you’re sure you hear Max’s whistle. It’s electric, rewarding to have people there for you, that know your songs, love your band. It reminds you why you started in the first place, despite the pain you’d endured on your way up.
-
“Thank you for coming out tonight, Hawkins! We have one more song for you before we introduce our friends in Corroded Coffin. This was a last minute decision, but before we play the song we know you’re all waiting for, could you please give a warm, freaky welcome to Coffin’s very own EDDIE MUNSON!” No amount of preparation prepares you for the screaming. The building must be shaking with the vibrations as Eddie saunters onto the stage, spotlight shining directly on him. His acoustic guitar is slung over his shoulder, and he wears a tattered DDA shirt and torn up black jeans, his converse laced tightly on his feet. He waves to the crowd, squinting into the bright stage lights. He wobbles slightly, and you know he’s drunk, but you have faith in his performance ability regardless.
“This song is one I wrote with Eddie years ago, and this is the first time we’re ever performing it. Please forgive us if it’s not so polished, but revel in the fact that you’re the first crowd that gets to hear it!” The audience responds with applause, and you glance at Eddie. His eyes are glued to the floor, not looking at you at all, so you turn back to Lilith who counts you off.
Eddie starts in with the opening melody, much softer than any song CC has put out, but still with the hard bite that persists within their catalog. You begin the ad libs, ones you love to play with live that can’t be recreated in the studio. The crowd sways with you, and glimmers from their lighters each the sky as you start the first verse.
“I’ve seen my share of gore and pain, enough to last my lifetime. / I wonder how you’re coping now that you’ve got that hurt inside. / I’d ask you how you’re doin’, but I know that you’d just lie, / and I’d bother you to open up, / if I thought it worth our time. / But you’ve been off drinkin’ down the hurt and pain we’d felt, / and I'm stuck circling the drain alone, keeling over as I melt.
Six years of shit, and dirt, and blood / caked under our fingernails, / and all I've got to show for it are these twisted, evil tales. / So all I ask is don’t let go, / don’t let go of me, / and all I want is for you to know / that you’re still the one for me.”
You don’t open your eyes the whole time, and you know you’re in for it when you do. You’re sure he’s caught on by now, the lyrics far from subtle, but still you can’t bring yourself to watch his reaction to them, instead focusing on your voice not breaking as he plucks the strings only three feet away. When the song ends, the crowd shrieks and it’s all you can hear. Eddie waves to the kids at the barricade, mouthing thank yous as they clap for him before approaching you. You entwine your fingers with his, swinging both your arms first into the air, then down to the floor as you both bow. He squeezes your hand before letting go, walking offstage without a word to the audience.
“Eddie Munson, everyone! I know you’re all very excited to see Corroded Coffin tonight, but we got one more song for ya, is that alright?” When the whooping fizzles out, Sylvie strums the opening to Pretty Boy, and it gets loud again. “This song is for, well, if you know you know. It’s called Pretty Boy!”
-
Eddie’s POV
He makes a beeline for the mini fridge, cracking open a beer before even saying a word to his bandmates. “You good?” Gareth raises an eyebrow, watching his bandmate down the bottle without a breath in between.
Eddie belches before snapping, “What makes you think I’m anything but perfectly fine?”
“Oh, just, everything.” He mumbles, but Eddie hears him anyway.
“What’s up with you, man? Aren’t you two on good terms now?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the arm of the sofa next to Eddie, who’s sprawled in the middle like an old rag doll.
“I have no idea. Thought we were, but I overheard them talking earlier and-“
Jeff interrupts, “Overheard? How much did you actually hear? Ever wonder if eavesdropping is maybe not the most reliable source of information?”
Eddie glares at his friend, who only rolls his eyes. “I know what I heard.”
“Whatever, man. We have a show to do, so get your shit together.” Jeff heaves himself off the couch again, and Gareth follows, clicking his drumsticks.
-
“Good evening, Hawkins! We are Corroded Coffin, and we’re here to fuck shut up!” Gareth shouts into his mic and is met with an eruption of screaming fans. Eddie feels the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream as he strums a chord, amping up the tension before the drummer counts them off. They break into the first song. His vision’s fuzzy, but he can still sense you, standing right up front, mouthing the words and nodding your head to the beat. He can’t let himself think too much about it, already distracted by your earlier conversation with your band. Because of him. You’re having nightmares again, unable to rest, because of him. The words play on a broken record, spinning out of control inside his brain, and he barely realizes he’s broken a string from strumming too hard.
When they end the song, a crew member cloaked in black rushes onstage to help him fix it while Eddie stands there, useless and shaking with a feeling he can’t place. Not exactly anger, nor anxiety, but a sinister lingering in his gut. The crew member leaves, Eddie’s string replaced, and Gareth waits for a cue to continue. “Apologies, my dear friends, for the technical difficulties. Thanks for coming out to see us on such short notice. This song is for anyone that’s ever felt like a freak in their own skin.” Eddie backs away from the mic as Jeff starts in on their next song, Eddie’s voice barely a part of him as he sings. His fingers are starting to bleed from playing so hard, something he hasn’t done since he started playing guitar more seriously.
Eddie fades in and out during the set, on autopilot, his usual lighthearted banter with the crowd now awkward and empty. He feels nothing when the lighters fly into the air during Wiped Clean, or even when he looks right at you when he sings Sweetheart. It feels like something in him has died, leaving a gaping wound. Being home was like ripping that wound right open.
-
Your POV
He’s looking right through me. There is absolutely no feeling behind Eddie’s performance tonight as he drags himself through the set. He’s usually bouncing off the walls, swinging his guitar around or sticking his tongue out while he shreds, but tonight he stands there, his head barely even nodding, let alone banging and thrashing like he usually does.
Around you, there’s a sense of panic. These people came for him, they know what he’s about, and this was likely the last thing they’d expected of a hometown show. Their dancing is tainted with confusion, worrying for the man on stage in front of you. You look to where your friends stand, cautiously swaying and nodding along to the music, glancing back to you every so often with a raised or furrowed brow. Dustin, though, meets your eyes and immediately starts pushing his way through the crowd.
“Move, please! Friend of the band coming through! Eddie Munson’s protege! Out of the way, holy shit!” He makes it to you relatively unfazed, and you grab his outstretched hand to pull him up to the barricade. “What the hell is going on?” Dustin shouts, and you shake your head.
“I have no idea, he’s been weird all day.”
“He drinking?”
“Dustin, he’s an adult!”
“That’s not what I mean! Is he, like, drinking drinking?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
He shoots you a baffled, disappointed look, and you get it. Loud and clear. This, whatever Eddie’s doing right now, is somehow related to you. “I am not responsible for his behavior!”
“No, of course not! But you might be able to explain it!”
You think, hard. You were fine this morning, waking up together, even being mistaken for reconciled lovers. “I really don’t know, Dustin!”
“Shit, okay. I’ll get back to you.” He turns around, about to disappear again, but you grab him. He meets your eyes, reading you in such a way that you probably won’t even have to ask him. But you do, for good measure.
“Make sure he’s okay, yeah?”
“Of course.” And you let him go. You turn back to the stage, where Eddie switches his beautiful electric guitar for his well worn acoustic. You feel a smile pull at your lips, knowing the acoustic rarely makes an appearance at regular Coffin shows.
“Hawkins, you’re so very special to me,” He starts, tuning his guitar as he slurs. Shit. “So I feel I should show you, just how special. We don’t usually do this, but because we’re home, I feel it’s only mandatory. I’m gonna play you guys a deep cut, one we never released and probably never will.” No. No fucking way. “Now, even the guys didn’t know I planned to do this, shit, even I didn’t til halfway through the set. That set sucked though, am I right? I mean, the guys were wonderful as always, but I was god awful, and for that I am truly sorry. It’s hard to put the energy into this town when it sucked the life out of me for so long. No offense, I do love that you’re all here.” Jeff and Gareth exchange looks of befuddlement. They have no idea what’s going on, but it’s starting to click in your head.
“This song is called Salt The Earth.” Your jaw drops to the floor. He’s never shown that song to anyone else, that you know of, because he hated it that much. It was a battle he’d been fighting since you’ve known him, one even you weren’t sure he’d win. But here it is, in the same town he’d written the song, giving it a live debut.
He plays to an almost silent, completely entranced room of people, staring straight ahead at the glowing exit signs, past you and all of his friends.
“Burnt the whole place down, demolished holy ground, packed your bags, didn’t look back, salted earth on your way out. / Fires bright, smoke in my eyes, I never even heard your goodbyes. / When you leave you’re supposed to salt the earth, you’re supposed to cut the rope. / But I'm still here, tied to this post, while you’re out somewhere laughing.”
There’s a bite, a sting behind your forehead, as the lyrics swim through your head. You haven’t heard the song in years, and it was barely passable as a song, but somehow, the lyrics are still there, stored in the depths of your memory, and only yours. As far as you can tell, scanning the faces of your friends and colleagues, you’re the only one that knows the words. Some of them have changed, he’s vastly developed as a songwriter in the last couple years, but it also gives you waves of nostalgia. To you, this song is an old friend, one constantly looping in the background of your life with Eddie. Selfishly, you wonder if your life with him, the ending of it especially, contributed to the song’s growth.
His voice is low, gravelly to match the somber tune. His eyes close as he further loses himself, wincing as he fingers the chords, breaking open fresh wounds on his fingers. Every so often, when you really let yourself watch Eddie perform, you’re hypnotized by his presence. You forget where you are, who you’re with, as everything falls away except for him, on display in front of you, for you, the only other person in the room.
The song comes to an end, Eddie practically playing himself out, still strumming as he leaves the stage. It takes a second, but the room eventually explodes with applause, chants of EDDIE! EDDIE! filling the club to its ceiling. After a good amount of teasing, the house lights dim again and the band take their spots once more, Eddie front and center with his Warlock strapped back in place.
“You didn’t think we were done yet, did ya, Hawkins?!” It’s as if he’s been struck with new life, rejuvenated after playing that song, defeating that looming enemy he’s had for so long. “We have one more song for you, and I know you know it. Thanks so much for comin’ out, tip your bartender!” They start in on The Crawl, the crowd going wild for one of their biggest songs. A pit opens in the middle, close to where you stand with your friends, and you feel at ease for the first time all night. Despite Eddie’s weird behavior, things have been going well. You desperately wish the other shoe would drop, but at the same time want for once for there not to be a second shoe. There’s always a second shoe.
-
Eddie’s POV
The tension still lingers in his shoulders, but he feels lighter. Salt The Earth had been a big, angry cloud threatening to rain down on him for years, and it’s like he’s finally watching the sky clear. Or, he would have been, if not for the much darker, much angrier cloud right behind it. This one holds what you’d said earlier, behind closed doors, and not for him to hear.
He stomps offstage, t shirt in one hand, guitar clutched in the other, avoiding eye contact with his friends and bandmates as he looks for solace: the bar. He’s already very, very drunk, and he knows it’s not smart, but it’s all he can think to do to drown his memory of earlier, and his shame about the way he’s reacting. What a Catch 22, to need to drink not to feel shame, and to feel shame for drinking.
“Hey, is he-?” Your voice floats into his ears, warm and concerned as you ask Steve where he is. “Never mind.” And suddenly, you’re next to him, leaning on the counter, not saying a word as he gulps down his whiskey. “Hey.”
He doesn’t look at you, barely even acknowledges your presence. He grunts, “Hmph.” in response.
“What’s going on?”
He won’t respond. He won’t open up to you again, he can tell it’s hurting you.
“Eddie, would you look at me, please?” He hears it, the slight crack, whether it’s from performing or from holding back tears he’s not sure, but it works in your favor.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” His words come out jumbled, slippery in his mouth against the liquor.
“There must be, if you’re drinking like this. What’s bothering you?” He chances a look at you, and wishes he hadn’t. You look up at him with concern, eyes darting back and forth between his, trying to read him, dig into him even deeper.
“Nothin’, just thirsty.” He won’t. He can’t tell you he heard you, it would only upset you, and it’s not fair that he’s heard you in the first place.
“Ed, you know you can tell me anything.”
“Ever think I don’t want to?” He snaps, and you jolt. He regrets it, it’s not your fault he feels this way, not on purpose, but he’s infuriated by your care for him.
“Okay,” you start, voice low, “you don’t have to. But I’m around, y’know, if you change your mind.” You almost place your hand on his shoulder, a gesture of consolation, but he leans away, and you tighten your lips to keep them from quivering. “See you later.” And you’re gone.
“Another round, barkeep.”
-
Your POV
“Well?” Steve meets you in front of the buses, overseeing the crew as they load the trailer. “How is he?”
You all but break down at the question. “I don’t know, I really don’t.” You don’t know why it hurts so much, he doesn’t owe you anything. “He won’t talk to me, but something is most definitely wrong. Whatever happened, I don’t have a single inkling of what it is.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Steve is gentle, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you let a single tear slide down your cheek.
“You’ve done so much for me already, this whole time. I can’t keep letting you fight my battles for me. I’ll figure this one out. On my own.” He nods, giving you a reassuring squeeze before letting you by, into the bus. You’re the first one in, the rest of your band enjoying their night with each other, and you’re in here sulking. “Fuck it.” You mumble, exiting the bus again. “Let’s go enjoy our night home, huh?” You wipe your face hurriedly, much to Steve’s confusion, but you don’t let him ask more questions. “C'mon! Let’s go dance and drink and be fuckin’ merry!”
He laughs, but it’s a nervous giggle. “Okay, okay! Don’t get all weird on me, though.”
“Please, Steve, you know I can’t promise that.”
-
The house music is blaring Soundgarden’s Jesus Christ Pose as lingering fans drink and dance, trying to catch glimpses of band members in the makeshift VIP sections. You catch your friends in the far corner, and they wave you over when they see you. “Thought you’d gone off with your boy!” Max teases as you sit next to her in the booth, and you try not to make your irritation known.
“He’s probably off somewhere, brooding.” Robin intercepts, a smirk on her face.
“That’s all he seems to do now. Any chance we’ll see him again before we leave?” Mike quips, and El giggles.
“And if we do? Chances are we’d say something to piss him off.” Lucas adds, slumping in his chair.
Dustin mumbles something only meant for you, but even you can’t hear him. “What was that?” When his eyes meet yours he looks away, and before you can ask again he’s sliding out of his seat, off into the darkness of the club. “What’s his deal?” You ask the group.
“Guess he’s not in the mood to rag on Eddie? Strange, he’s usually the one to start the rolling of the punches.” Lucas shrugs, and you sigh.
“Should I go apologize?”
Will shakes his head. “He’ll get over it, hang out with us!”
-
Eddie’s POV
“What the hell, man?” The voice next to him is unmistakable, even in his current state of intoxication. “Why are you hiding from everyone? We haven’t seen you in two years, more than that, and you’re avoiding us!” Dustin yanks the drink out of Eddie’s reach. “Fucking say something!”
Dustin’s anger startles him. “Whoa, big guy, hang on,”
“I have been hanging on, all week. You were fine, almost normal, and tonight you go on stage acting like a zombie, and you don’t come say hi to anyone after. I'm done waiting around for my friend to reappear. What is your damage?”
Eddie looks at Dustin, his sweet face and big eyes as he tries to keep his composure. “Look, man, it’s adult stuff, something you’re not gonna understand.”
“Would you drop that? I’m 20 years old, Eddie, as much as you don’t wanna admit it to yourself. Is it Y/n? Cmon, give me something to work with. Pretend we’re friends again.”
It takes a second, but Eddie catches the last part. “We are friends, Dustin, ‘course we are. I didn’t wanna burden you, or any of the guys with it. But I guess I owe you, y’know, for not giving up on me.”
Dustin crosses his arms. “Yeah, you do.”
“Alright, fine. Let’s go talk.” Eddie throws an arm around the boy, and they exit the club.
-
“What do you wanna know?” Eddie asks, a cigarette pressed between his lips.
“Everything. What happened with Y/n? Why’d you disappear? Why didn’t you call?” Eddie can tell Dustin’s trying to stay composed. He’s a strong kid, but this is even harder for him than the rest of the party. Eddie owes him an explanation, and they both know it.
“We broke up.” Eddie starts, and Dustin nods to keep him talking. “We broke up three years ago, and I hadn’t seen them in two.”
“At all?”
Eddie shakes his head. “I couldn’t, it was too hard. I left Hawkins after that, and couldn’t make myself come back. I couldn’t face you, the guys, or even Wayne, y’know? Everyone thinks…” He trails off. Everyone thinks it’s his fault. It is his fault.
“I don’t.” Dustin seems to read his mind. “Sure, you didn’t handle it correctly, you ran away from us. But it’s not your fault it happened.”
“Dude, I know you mean well, but it is. I let everything get to me. The fame, the break up, and you’re right, I did run away.”
“The fame would get to anyone, Eddie. And as for the break up, of course it would. I had never seen you like that before Y/n. You two were inseparable, infatuated with each other beyond belief, obviously you’re gonna hurt. But you had us, you could’ve talked to anyone, to me.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I should have.”
“Why’d they break up with you?”
Eddie gapes at him. “Why do you think they broke up with me?”
Dustin can’t help but snicker. “Sorry, dude, you’re not hiding it well. The avoidance, the brooding, the drinking. They’re hanging out inside with everyone right now, and you’ve been at the bar all night.” Eddie doesn’t say anything. He wants Dustin to keep talking, to be angry at him, he has every right to be. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something recent.” Eddie bows his head, kicks the gravel at his feet. “Something to do with Y/n?”
“They uh, they said something. To Steve, last night.”
“Oh, please, can you drop that? Steve and Y/n have never been anything but platonic, you know that.”
“No, nothing like that. They told him about a nightmare they had. Said it was my fault.”
“No.” Dustin says simply, shaking his head. “They wouldn’t. You sure that’s it? You heard them say that?”
“Well, no, but-“
“But nothing! You’re an idiot, Eddie.”
“Gee, thanks. I wasn’t already feeling horrible about myself or anything.”
Dustin groans. “You know eavesdropping gets you nowhere! For all you know, they were blaming you for a scuff on their boot.”
Eddie purses his lips. “I don’t really think that’s what it was.”
“It definitely wasn’t.” You stalk out of the shadows. “Dustin’s right, though, eavesdropping doesn’t get you anywhere. Well, except for when I do it.” You give him a sad smile, and he looks away. “Henderson, can I have a minute with our rockstar, please? The guys are on the other bus, if you wanna go raid the snack stash or something.”
Dustin nods, and turns back to Eddie. He wraps him in his arms, the first real hug he’s gotten since coming home. “Hear them out, okay? There’s an explanation for all of it.” Dustin pats Eddie on the back, then gives you a hug before disappearing into your bus.
Eddie can’t look at you, still basking in the post gig glow, cigarette dangling between your fingers. You walk closer, slowly as if not to scare him away. “I didn’t say anything like that.”
“Then what were you talking about?” He asks the ground.
“What did you hear?”
“‘All of this is because of him, as much as I hate admitting it. He’s the reason.’”
“Oh my god, you really are an idiot.”
“Right, I got that.”
“Eddie, I wasn’t talking about the nightmare. I told you, it happens when I come back here. It’s this place, feeding on whatever I’m already worried about. I was talking about my whole career. You’re the reason I’ve come this far, the reason I write what I do. I wasn’t blaming you for anything, I promise. Will you look at me, please?”
He does, finally. He looks into your pretty eyes, sparkling under the bright lights of the parking lot. Your cigarette hangs long forgotten in your hand, and you take another step towards him.
“You think you got here because of me?”
“I know I did. I couldn’t have done this without you, you have to know that. Deep in your soul, you know.”
He doesn’t, or at least he can’t admit it. What he does know is you don’t need him now. You’ve outgrown him, mastered your craft in such a way that doesn’t require his assistance anymore. And yet, you’re still there, waiting for him to come around, just like every other time. “I’m sorry. For this, for me. It wasn’t right of me to assume, to take something I only heard part of so personally.”
You shake your head. “No, it really wasn’t. Here I thought something real had happened. I thought I’d done something to hurt your feelings, with the way you’d been treating me. Avoiding me suddenly like I’d kicked your dog. Turns out, you’ll look for any small problem to excuse your behavior.” Your voice carrie’s a venom Eddie recognizes, each word stinging as it’s spit at him. “I’ll leave you alone. I get it. This is too hard for you, and I guess it’s not worth a fight.”
Before he can respond, you’re turning around, walking away again. “Wait! Please, wait.” He doesn’t mean for his voice to break, but he can’t help it. He can't watch you leave again.
You stop walking, but you don’t turn around. “What?” There’s no feeling in your voice, it’s cold.
“Are we okay?” He asks lamely.
You sigh. “We’re whatever you want, Eddie. Just like every other time.”
He’s dumbfounded as you walk away. You leave him there, alone, just like you’d found him six years ago.
-
Your POV
You can’t let yourself be proud. You know, deeply and surely, that you’d done nothing wrong. So why does it feel like you have? You’re in no mood to see your friends anymore, but it’s your last night in Hawkins before tour resumes, and you’re once again stuck with Eddie and his stupid face.
When you decide to make a beeline to the bar, you’re halted, colliding with a figure lurking behind the building. “Whoa, hey, sorry,” He stutters as you say, “You’re not supposed to be back here,” when he moves into the light. He’s older than you remember, more lines carved into the skin around his eyes and mouth, hair more white than gray, but it’s him. “Wayne, oh god, hi!” You squeak, and it takes him a second to recognize you.
“Y/n, wow. How are you, kiddo?” He cracks a smile, and your heart warms. He doesn’t hate you, even after everything.
“Oh, you know, same old.” He scoffs at your pathetic response, and you laugh too.
“Right, same old, touring the world and all.”
“Totally, just another day in paradise! Did you see the show?”
He nods, suddenly somber. “That’s why I’m back here. I don’t expect you’ve seen my boy?”
You frown at the question. “He hasn’t said hi?” Wayne shakes his head. “Yeah, he was just outside the bus, the big black one down there,” you point to where you’d come from. “Should still be there.”
“Thanks, love. How’s he, uh…” He trails off, realizing his question probably won’t have the best answer.
You give him one anyway. “He’s not good, Wayne. I don’t think he’s been good for awhile.”
He shakes his head sadly. “Haven’t heard from him in months, and after seeing that I had to find him.” His voice trembles, his fists clenching and flexing with each syllable. It scares you.
“Is this normal behavior with him?” You ask the question gently, trying to hide your nerves, and settle his.
“We talk once a week. Thought I’d give him some space when,” He pauses, meeting your eyes for the first time. They’re glassy, and it breaks your heart to see him so defeated. “I don’t know what you know. It’s not my business to tell, I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I’ll walk you over to him.” Forgetting your dramatic goodbye, you pivot to face the buses, down the road from where you’d bumped into Eddie’s uncle.
“How’s tour been, by the way?” He begins, turning his head to look at you again. “You guys are making something great. Both of you,” He nods his head in the general direction before them.
“It’s definitely been chaotic. We've never done anything this big, and to do it under these circumstances is,” You falter.
“A punch in the face?” He offers helpfully.
And you laugh. Despite it all, you belly laugh at the man’s words, and it feels good to talk to someone outside of everything. Selfishly, you hope Eddie isn’t there, maybe you could hang out with Wayne. Maybe get your questions answered, or at least some inside scoop on why Marie’s diner is now called The Wrench.
“Yeah, a huge punch in the fucking face.”
You make it to the bus, still not running and therefore not leaving this shit town any time soon. You knock three times quickly, three times slowly, and three times quickly again. The bus shakes, and the door flies open. You’re met with the silhouette of Eddie in his underwear, travel sized toothbrush shoved in his cheek, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “What the- Are you okay?!” Your last conversation forgotten, panic written on his face, Eddie switches the front light on. “Wayne?”
“Hey, boy.” Wayne’s voice is weathered, a calming wave over this terrible tension, a welcome distraction.
“Didn’t think you’d have heard about this.”
“You think I’m not cool enough? You shoulda seen me in college, son.” And Eddie laughs, for the first time all day, and you can’t help giggling too.
“I’ll leave you guys alone, it was so nice seeing you, Wayne.”
“You too, kid. Keep it up.”
You nod, holding out your hand for him to shake. Wayne swats it away, pulling you into a hug you return with fervor. “Thank you for everything.” You whisper, and you can feel him shake his head, but he doesn’t respond. He has no idea what he’s done for you in raising Eddie, letting you crash at the trailer on bad nights, and promising not to say anything when he’d caught you singing in the kitchen that one time he’d come home early. He’d treated you, and all of your friends, like his own. He’s your family.
-
You end up playing Bullshit with everyone on the ride back to Nancy’s.
“5” Dustin slaps a card down.
“BULLSHIT!” It’s unanimous.
It’s a five
“FUCK!” Cards are thrown, birds are flipped, and there’s a pink tint to it all. You’d give it all up for this moment, but you know it’s not forever. The kids will go back to school, they’ll graduate, they’ll do something important. You’ll go back on tour, bumping into Eddie in different cities, different countries, until you inevitably kill yourself with drugs or pyrotechnics, or sell out stadiums until you’re fifty, like The Rolling Stones.
“Alright, kiddos, we’ve arrived.” Steve shoves himself from the bench to open the door. Both buses are parked down the street from Nancy’s, halfway to Dustin’s to make the trek home easier for them. “See you soon.” Steve squeezes Dustin first, then the rest of his children one by one. Eddie peers cautiously out of the crack in his own bus door, and you catch his eye. You have a million questions for him, and not a single one you’ll be able to ask any time soon.
“Ed, at least come say goodbye.” Steve says it with humor, a lightness you couldn’t manage if you’d tried.
It does the trick, as it always does, and Eddie emerges from his shelter. He makes his rounds, saying goodbye to the kids, then turns to Steve to say something. You can’t make it out, but Steve responds with a nod, and brings Eddie into his chest for a hug. “Alright, we’ll pick you up in the morning, you gonna be ready to go?”
“I don’t need Mother Steve over my shoulder to make sure I’m ready to leave. Wayne will do it for you.” He pats Steve on the shoulder. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah?” You join your friends in waving goodbye, despite the lingering heaviness in your chest. You’re worried about him, despite how many times you’ve told yourself he’s not your responsibility.
Eddie gets back into his bus, and it drives away, leaving the rest of you at the fork in the road. The kids take the left to Dustin’s, and you follow your friends and bandmates back to the Wheelers’. “I didn’t know Wayne still lived in Hawkins,” You start, hooking your arm through Steve’s. “I figured he would’ve left as soon as he could.”
Steve nods. “Guess it’s more difficult than that. But Eddie bought him a real nice plot of land on the far edge of town, and Wayne built the house.” Of course, Eddie bought Wayne a massive plot of land, that doesn’t surprise you at all. “What’s your deal? You haven’t visited the parents yet, everything okay?”
You shake your head. “They moved back to Boston after I graduated, they had no reason to stay, Dad quit his job because he missed the city so much. But they told me they’re coming to the show out there, so that’s keeping me going. It’s weird, being here now. Beyond you guys and the kids, this isn’t my home anymore.” You remember the day they told you they were leaving, and asked if you had wanted to come. By then, you and Eddie had already planned to move in together, but right now you were between jobs and Eddie had only just gotten signed. You’d moved into the trailer instead.
Steve wraps his arm around your shoulder. “You always have a home here, y’know. You can take the rockstar out of Hawkins, but you can’t take Hawkins out of the rockstar. Prime example just drove away.”
Your group reaches the front door, and you say your goodnights before dragging your tired body into the guest bed. Tonight, you sleep alone.
-
You’re back in the dark, this time going seemingly unnoticed as you watch the figures in front of you. You recognize Eddie instantly, even with his strange posture and soulless eyes. In front of him, the taller, lanky figure stalks around, surrounding Eddie with its massive arms and veiny body.
“You have succeeded in your mission, Eddie. You have eliminated the one thing holding you back. Whatever you do now, you do it without them.” The one supposed to be Eddie, he doesn’t say anything. He watches the figure as it moves, unfazed by the words it seems only to be thinking. The voice is disembodied, swimming through your ears, or living inside your mind, you’re not sure.
Before you can react, though, the limbs stretch, tangling themselves around to Eddie’s body. You can't move, can’t speak, only watch as the branches of its arms tighten around him, lifting him into the air before swiftly snapping his spine. The body falls to the ground with a thud, and you can’t scream, can’t cry, you can only watch the body of the boy you love bleed out in front of you, as it would have years ago if you hadn’t gotten there in time.
-
You’re woken up by Nancy barging through the guestroom door, panic on her face. “Hey, whoa, hey,” she hushes you, rubbing your back as you continue hyperventilating. “Another nightmare? Here, here’s some water.” She hands you the glass and you gulp, stopping only to gasp for air. “You wanna talk about it?”
You do, but you can’t bring yourself to start. The first thing out of your mouth is, “Where does Wayne live?”
“Wayne? Y/n, are you alright?”
“I’m fine, where does Wayne live?!” You try not to snap, but this anxiety inside you is not letting up. Nancy tells you the address and you barely register it, but you bolt out the bedroom door and down the stairs, slipping on a pair of abandoned sandals before throwing the front door open.
“It’s far, hold on a second, let me drive you.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” To your left, Mike’s bicycle lay against the side of the house, and you yank it towards you. “I’ll take his wrath for this, but I need to go now. I know you’re gonna try talking me out of it.” You throw your leg over the bike, amazed that it’s now too big for you considering you’d met Mike when he was several inches shorter than you.
“Okay, please be safe. Give me a call in the morning.” Nancy wraps her arms around you, and you lean your head on her shoulder. When she lets you go, you pedal away, only vaguely certain of the direction you’re going.
-
It takes you forty five minutes, but you find Wayne’s house. Out front, Eddie’s old, beaten box of a van sits on cinder blocks, and it makes your heart hurt. You shove that feeling aside like you do the bike, tossing it onto Wayne's front yard before sprinting to the door. It dawns on you, you have no idea what you’ll say, regardless of who opens the door, if anyone does. The light inside is on, and you think you hear music playing, so you say a quick prayer that you’re not disturbing anyone’s much needed rest.
You bang on the door before you can talk yourself out of it, and you don’t stop until it’s answered. When it swings back, Eddie basks in the glow of the porch light, draped in a torn tank top and plaid boxers, rubbing his eyes. “Y/n?”
You have to physically stop yourself from charging at him, throwing your arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses. “God, I’m so sorry, did I wake you guys up?”
“No, you’re fine. I was just about to go to bed. You uh, wanna come in?” You nod sheepishly, and he moves to let you by, clicking the lock shut behind you. “Are you okay?”
You take in the living room before you, much bigger than the trailer you’re used to picturing Wayne in, but still very cozy. His mug collection is still on the wall, as well as pictures of him and Eddie, the Hellfire Club, and even a picture of you and Eddie from your senior year. It makes you smile to see you’re still part of the family. in Wayne’s eyes at least.
“Uh, well,”
“Right, stupid question. ‘Nother nightmare?”
You can't help it, you break. The tears fall from your face before you can make them stop, and your breath seems to leave your body. The sobs that erupt from your throat are strangled, broken noises, and you rush your hands to your eyes to cover them. You feel Eddie before you see him again, embracing you without a second thought, rubbing your back soothingly as he lets you cry. “We don’t have to talk about it. It was just a dream, you’re safe. I promise.”
You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest to suffocate the remainder of your sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Eddie. I couldn’t think of anything else, I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone. I woke Nancy up and I still couldn’t tell her. It was so dark, I was so scared you were,” You pull your face away to look at him. He’s tired, you can tell, soft eyes carrying bags of sleep beneath them that he’s more than ready to put down, but he’s here with you instead. “I can go. I know you probably don’t want me here, just give me a second. I just had to make sure you were okay.”
Eddie shakes his head, holding you still. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. It’s way too dark, and I don’t have a vehicle to bring you back. I didn’t come here to get away from you. I just wanted to be somewhere quieter for tonight. That’s all.” He pulls you back into him, seemingly more for himself than for you. “You’re alright. Let’s go upstairs. I’ll give you the tour tomorrow.”
Eddie holds his hand out, and instead you hook yourself around his arm like a child reunited with your parent, holding on for dear life so as not to get lost again. Eddie leads you up the stairs, and down the hall to what you can only assume is the guestroom. When he opens the door, though, it’s far too lived in. Eddie has clothes in the closet, shoes on the ground, and records on the shelf in the corner. “I keep a lot of my stuff here. Wayne won’t let me take it to LA, thinks it gives me a reason to visit more.”
“Does it?” You sniffle, finally relaxing.
He shrugs. “I’m here now, aren’t I?” He looks you up and down, taking in the clothes you’d ridden here in. “You need something to sleep in.” He turns to his dresser, pulling out an Iron Maiden shirt and another pair of boxer shorts. “It’s not much but,” He holds them out for you, and you take them gratefully. “I can uh,” You’re already changing before he can finish, and you don’t care one bit that he didn’t even bother turning around.
“Thank you.” It’s a whisper, full of shame. You didn’t want to disturb him, to interrupt his time away from everyone. You’d been selfish, biking your way here just to see him.
“You don’t have to thank me. Or be sorry, for that matter. Never.” He pulls the covers back and climbs into the big bed.
“I can sleep on the couch, I know you probably want to be alone.” Even though you don’t, you can’t be right now. You would, though, for him.
“Absolutely not. Get in. Please.” It’s not a question, but you nod, and climb into the bed beside him. Before you can move, Eddie drags you into him, his arms closing around your waist, head burying into your shoulder. Instantly, you’re calm. Eddie washes over you, and you’re overwhelmed by his warmth, his smell, his soft breath on your neck. I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe. You repeat it to yourself until you’re dozing off, and Eddie’s breath evens out. You fall asleep with him wrapped around you, and you don’t have another dream.
-
chapter XVII
taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @lilpotatobean2-deactivated20230 @poisonedluv @kellsck
#st#stranger things#strangerthingscentral#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#fluff#angst#enemies to lovers#estranged lovers#mutual pining#miscommunications#misunderstanding#90s au#au where eddie lives#best friend!steve#fd#new kid fic#stranger things fan fiction#chapter fic
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I've a little Valentine's Day request if you don't mind. Reader is a mage and Eskel's lover. She decides to make a surprise for him on this special day.
Saccharine
A/N: okay, I know you said "little", I know. But I'm finding out that I cant control myself with requests lol. But I may actually have to use this mage character now, I really love the concept.
Pairing: Eskel x Reader
Words: 1.2k
Warning: real quick editing, just tooth-rotting fluff! (Oh, also no pronouns as usual)
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You had been up all night working tirelessly about the kitchen of Kaer Morhen. The entire keep lay in deep and silent sleep as the holiday of love and romance loomed with the next sunrise. You had really wanted to make it a holiday you’d both remember, and so you were pulling out all your magic and talents for it.
You had a very peculiar talent among your fellow mages, one that hadn’t been seen in a truly long time. Those that didn’t understand called your talents worthless and a waste of chaos. Those that did understand tripped over themselves to stay in your good graces.
See you had the ability to use memories in your magic. Good or bad, yours or other people’s, you could see memories people had long forgotten if you concentrated hard enough or could choose to share them as well, though that one really wore you down to use.
It was morning when Eskel found you, face down on the counter as you sat on your stool. Your forehead laid against a big roll of dough and your light snores puffed up bits of flour as you breathed out.
“Darling…. Y/n, come on. Wake up…” Eskel encouraged as he gently jostled your shoulder.
“Hmm… No, I need to proof for 5 more minutes… Let me rise..” You mumbled out, still asleep as you swatted at his hand.
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” He laughed out and went over to the sink, fiddling around in the sink for a moment before tossing a soaking washcloth on your head.
“AHH, I’M UP!! IM AWAKE!!” You shouted, half the dough sticking to your forehead and your hair. Eskel held back raucous laughter as he saw that, paired with flour that covered your entire face,
“You look… ravishing. Ravishing and radiant was what I was gonna say…” Eskel laughed as he grabbed the washcloth from your head and began wiping your face off, really scrubbing to get the dough. “I went to go make you breakfast in bed for today, but it turns out you never even made it to bed.”
“Ugh, ow. Too hard, scrubbing too hard…” you complained as you pulled your head away, “I got a little consumed last night, I guess…” you threw the leftover dough away, and cleaned up your station. “You know you can still make me breakfast… but let’s meet in the library, okay? It’s just more open than the room is.”
Eskel knew better than to argue when you obviously had something planned, so he just nodded and kissed your head, “Of course, dear. I’ll be right there.” He assured and began pulling together everything he needed for a nice breakfast you would love.
Your feet carried you quickly, gathering many of your bags and boxes from the kitchen as you brought everything up to the library in anticipation of your beloved’s arrival.
“Y/n? My magnificent and flour-ridden- mage?” Eskel called as he nudged open the Library door, committing the greatest balancing act of all time as he carries various plates and bowls on a large tray. As he walked in deeper, candles flickered about on the large wooden table. Everything was set up in front of the largest windows in the entire keep, and the bookshelves surrounded your little nook, giving you privacy and quiet. There you sat on the little couch, a warm blanket around you, several opaque bags at your feet, no doubt holding your gifts for him. Fat and lazy snowflakes sauntered downwards behind you and made for the perfect scene.
“There you are,” An easy smile crossed his lips as he saw you and set the tray of dishes down. “Here is our full spread for breakfast… and lunch probably. I got a bit carried away making everything.” a chuckle came from him as he moved to slide in next to you.
You grinned and kissed his cheek as he came in beside you, “you mind if I give you my presents right away? I just can't hold in the excitement any longer..”
He laughed, “go ahead, let’s see them..”
You grinned and handed him a small box. “I’m letting you know now. That I love you so much, but this is your valentines day, Birthday, Yule, hallows eve- Every holiday present for this year… I know I won't be able to top it anytime soon.”
Eskel nodded, curious excitement filling him as he opened it up to see…. A box of donuts? An unusual blue glaze topped these small fried cakes as well as little purple decorations. He took one out and took a small bite, a sweet and cool taste washing over his tongue as a memory sprang forth.
It was a memory of you and him, early on in your relationship as you two were running and laughing as you tripped over yourselves trying to escape the downpour outside. It was a fleeting memory as he swallowed down his bite. The cool pattering of rain on his skin and the ringing of your laughter in his ears waned into silence once more.
You grinned as you watched him relive one of your favorite memories of you two, something so simple and mundane, but for some reason, it always stuck out in your mind. “You’re one of the few who refuses to ask me to use my magic, you who sometimes needs it the most,” you explained with a soft and loving tone. “So each donut is a memory of ours… each one is two memories… The longer you chew it the longer it lasts, but it still has to go away eventually.” You picked up the bags that lay at your feet, each only about the size of a coin pouch.
“Each of these holds hard candies, so they’ll keep well on the path. But each color is a memory of you and another person. Vesemir’s memories of you are green, Lambert’s are orange, and Geralt’s are yellow.” You smiled as you explained, “some of them might be a little sad, but each is still a happy memory…”
Eskel’s eyes pricked with tears that couldn’t flow as he looked through each of the bags. There were at least 10 or 15 in each sack and he knew he could easily get this to last him for years to come. Silence wafted through the air as Eskel’s words got caught in his throat.
You smiled and pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek, “I know, you don’t need to say anything. I know the path gets hard and that people can say some nasty things about Witchers and scars alike. I’ve seen the way it hurts you, Esk… So I just wanted a way for you to remember how much we love you.” you hugged him close, laughing a bit at the way he quietly buried his face in your neck.
“I love you so much…. My saccharine sweetheart…” He laughed a bit to himself as he pulled back, piling the treats together off to the side so he could pull you into his lap to be even closer.
“Your sweets are lovely, but your love is so much sweeter.”
______________
Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut
Wanna be added to the taglist? DM me to let me know!
#eskel gets good things!#eskel fic#eskel imagine#witcher eskel#eskel#eskel x y/n#eskel x reader fluff#eskel x you#eskel x reader#Gn reader#no pronouns used.#the witcher#witcher self insert#tw3 eskel#game eskel#kaer morhen#eskel my beloved#eskel fluff#eskel fanfiction
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hai ariiiiii :3 guess whos SICK . me . im sick
ANYWAY thinking abt sugubooboo taking care of u while sick ,,,,,,,,
u kno when u get that feeling ur gonna b sick in the morning the night b4 it all hits ? i think sugu picks up on that after u blow ur nose one 2 many times n he asks if ur okay
ur not. obviously . so he heats up some nice peppermint tea, and something my mom does when im sick is take some honey, mix it w ginger powder + some other stuff thats good 4 ur throat and make me eat a spoonful of it [its gross as HELLLL i hate it but i feel a lil better afterwards] then tucks u in2 bed [later after uve fallen asleep he calls out of work for tomorrow, he REFUSES to leave u alone + sick]
the next morning ur properly Sick and suguru wakes u up w breakfast in bed, all warm foods infused with clove, mint, ginger, and sets a few packs of tissues next 2 the bed
after uve eaten he lays in bed w u 4 a bit, kissing your head and fiddling w ur hands. eventually u ask abt work, he said he called out 4 both u n him.
he trusts u 2 take a shower on ur own, but when u get out hes holding a towel and wraps u in it immediately then just hovers around u as u do ur morning routine, making sure youre okay n not abt 2 like . pass out or smthn
once ur dressed and fully cocooned in the bed once again, suguru pours out some cold medicine 4 u and hands u water once that NASTY liquid slides down ur throat. he gives u a lil candy as a palate cleanser tho, hes not mean
i think after that u just fall in and out of sleep 4 teh rest of the day until u get hungry again or need another dose of medicine. sometimes u wake up 2 suguru humming and playing w ur hair while he reads a book, sometimes he joins u and takes a nap w u. the only time u wake up alone is when its lunch or dinner n hes in the kitchen making smthn spicy 2 open ur sinuses
everytime u take a dose of medicine, he kisses you on the lips then pushes a glass of water in one hand n some candy in the other. hed probably mumble 'good job' or smthn like that in2 the top of ur head as he cuddles u while ur trying 2 get the taste out of ur mouth
he does NOT care if u sneeze n get snot all over him, puke on him if u have a stomach bug, cough in his face, or r generally disheveled. u could never disgust him.
if its sunny out, hell offer 2 take u outside just 4 a lil bit. if u dont think u can walk hes gonna pick u up. no complaining u NEED that sun, hell argue while sliding the patio door open
youll sit out 4 a bit, soaking up the sunshine then when u want 2 go back 2 bed hell carry u back and gently tuck u in2 bed
if ur 2 weak 2 even blow ur nose, hes holding the tissue 2 ur nose n waiting 4 u 2 blow. the chapstick might b all the way across the room n ur savior ends up being suguru and his long legs. the temp in the house is 2 hot? hes turning the a/c down and all the fans r coming 2 ur room bcuz he knows how slow the heating n cooling takes 2 change.
also everytime he walks in2 the room, hes asking how r u? do u need anything? does anything hurt too much? and he probably has smthn 4 u 2 do so ur not on ur phone all day [guess . guess who was on their phone all day . ME]
at the very end of the day, hes got u curled up in his lap on the bed, INCREDIBLY comfortable, and theres some movie on the tv in the bedroom. like juno or some other feel good indie movie. sugurus just kissing u everywhere on ur face and clutching u tight 2 him because u got super clingy after he had 2 run out 4 last minute groceries. since its past dinner time, he gives u lil candied ginger pieces 2 help w ur throat n other snacks 2 go w the movie.
eventually u fall asleep in his arms in the middle of the movie, smothered in warmth on all sides.
OKAY . WOW . moving on, HOW WAS UR DAY ARI ??? tell me abt that book ur reading rn !! u seem very enthusiastic abt it, id luv 2 know y ^_^ ! [personally my day was . ouchie . and ive got a book abt decolonialism checked out from the library rn :3]
ASHLEY !!!!!!!!! i’m answering this kinda late i hope your cold is gone by now 😔😔😔
BUT . GODDDDDDDDDD ARE YOU OUT TO KILL ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭 BE HONEST . how did you know sugu sickfics are my greatest weakness………… (i actually have . a whole fic just like this that i wrote a year ago or so 😭😭 YOU MADE ME WANNA GO BACK N READ IT HHHH this is very bad for my weak suguloving heart….) I’M JUST. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAYY. you keep serving me meals on a silver platter n i’m just?!?!! eating gratefully …. thank you……
NO BC YOU’RE SOOOOO RIGHT YOU’RE SO OBJECTIVELY CORRECT :((((((( HE’S. THE SWEETEST. the best bf around !!!!!! he’s so good at caring for you when you’re sick…. sniffle……. AND OFCCCC HE’D PICK UP ON IT INSTANTLY TOO. his sixth sense is so crazy accurate when it comes to his baby </33333 and wahhh him making you tea and tucking you in and calling in sick for you 🥺🥺🥺 he just wants you to feel better……
WAKING YOU UP . W BREAKFAST IN BED. WHAT IF I CRYYYYY THIS CONCEPT IS SO DEAR TO MY HEART ASHLEY ….. and him just. hovering around you. i feel like he would stand outside the bathroom while you shower just in case you were to fall over or smth…….. he’s so caring :(((( and wrapping you up in a towel…… cocooning you into bed. sniffle. i need him to baby me sooooo bad it’s not a want it’s a need …… he rlly would stay by your side the Whole time………… cooks for you and tends to you and makes sure you’re okay . he’s so good. i feel like he kind of really loves it too….. he doesn’t love that you’re sick BUT . he loves being allowed to take care of you :’3 loves making you feel better.
ALSOOO him kissing you and praising you whenever you take your medicine T_T oughhhhhhhh one kiss on the forehead + ”good girl/boy” from him and i would be OUT like a light. collapsed. fainted. he would be so good at coaxing you into taking it ……… ANDDDDD the part abt you never disgusting him. SO true. you could never ever disgust him he just wants you to be okay…….. forcing you out into the sunlight………… asking if you need anything……………. making sure you aren’t bored…………………. ohhhhh he’s 2 perfect we need to put him down.
sugurus just kissing u everywhere on ur face and clutching u tight 2 him because u got super clingy after he had 2 run out 4 last minute groceries.
AND THEN . YOU TOP IT OFF WITH THIS. ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ THIS MADE ME MELT….. i’m so…………. i have so many thoughts abt this. sugu would LOVE a clingy s/o but i keep specifically thinking of him w an s/o who’s shy w physical affection.,,,, and how he’d react when they get sick and suddenly get all cuddly . 🥺 he would love it so much. kisses you all over and holds you soooo tight and he’s just!!!!! so enamored!!!!!!!!! you’re like a lil koala. he loves you. sob.
WAHHHHH THANK YOU FOR THE ABSOLUTE MEAL MY BELOVED i’m not exaggerating btw this is gonna feed my sugu thoughts for weeks to come…… AND MY DAY WAS GOOD!!!! i’m sorry to hear your day was ouchie </3 i hope it’s all better now!!! pls make sure to rest and eat properly <33 it’s what sugu would want for you!!!!!
AND . THE BOOK. YES. it’s called giovanni’s room by james baldwin and it’s sooooo <33333 yeah. it’s so good. i LOVE baldwin’s prose so much??????? and the story is just . AUGH. i’m still not finished but i’m so obsessed. it’s basically abt a closeted guy in like … the 1800s-1900s? who goes on vacation in paris while his girlfriend is in spain. and he meets this rlly mysterious charming italan barman called giovanni……….. the book is abt their relationship + their own experiences w homosexuality + their tragic ending (it’s revealed at the very beginning of the book that giovanni will meet his end by the guillotine)…..
so it’s just . yeah. it’s such a gorgeous book :’3 and just so . idk. raw? visceral?? i love giovanni a lot. and more than anything i loves james baldwin <333 i’m planning to buy another of his books too!!!! it’s called tell me how long the train’s been gone :3 I RLLY RECOMMEND BOTH OF THEM!!! i hope the book you just got ends up being good too <33
#MWAH one big forehead kiss for you!!!#thank you again for this i’m slurping all ur sugu thoughts up through a big straw :333#sniffleeee i love him so much………#pls take care of yourself!!!!!! 😭 i’m chasing your sickness away w a pitchfork…. hopefully it’s all gone now tho…………#sending you allllll my coziest vibes <3333#ask tag ✩#ashley !! ✩
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it's in my nature {Tangerine} // 5
five. the scorpion: fantasizing about regicide to cope.
Chapter Summary: Clementine meets Yuichi Kimura, and realises The Prince is on the bullet train for more than just a joy ride.
{ Masterlist }
A/N: 4570 words. this one took a while because i have a new job!! its keeping me very busy!! but also im very excited because this chapter has a lot of dominoes being set up in it, and i hope they can pay off in the end!! again i feel like the prince is leaning a bit more heavily into her book characterisation but im not mad about it. also fuck book!wolf all my homies hate book!wolf. movie!wolf supremacy. anyways, i hope you like it, please lemme know your thoughts and feelings so far!!
Warnings: Don't be surprised when the OC is a terrible person and is implied to have done terrible things along with the rest of them. There will be smut in the future chapters.
Chapter Warnings: kind of implied torture, mentions of blood, implied daddy kink?? is that a warning??
Taglist: @venusthepirate @malar-region @tangerinesgf @esmaada @sarcastic-sourwolf @djjskfkskjf @justshutupmars @somikesoc @chachadelight @andydre4m @evangelineflowers @darkchai @basementsoup @bellatrix124 @kunikidaswhore @thewinterschildren178 @felhomaly @perksofbeingamultifandomm @aniglio18 @geeiz @mimidior @justicex101 @ltlthetrifecta @salsasadd @tongerines @xkawax
[ always open, just message or comment! ]
----
There is a man on the floor in front of Clementine's seat. Limbs at odd angles, it's clear he'd been shoved into the uncomfortable position simply to keep him out of the aisle. Before even fully acknowledging the situation or even her charge, Clementine drops to check his pulse. It's here she notices his bound hands, cutesy tape sturdily keeping his wrists together, so she presses two fingers against the soft underside of his jaw; steady.
"Sit him up would you, fruit fly?" The Prince orders cheerfully, as if there isn't a partially deconstructed handgun on the tray before her; Clementine will get to that, but she's really trying to deal with one thing at a time here. This day will not let up.
When she does finally stand, she turns wordlessly to The Prince, the silence demanding further explanation.Sure Clementine could move the poor man, she probably wouldn't even have to put down her bag, but too much today has already gone on unexplained.
"It's the best I could do without making a scene or a fuss," The Prince goes on to explain, giving an offhand gesture to the man on the floor with the half-assembled gun she had been fiddling with.Wrong answer.
"Malen'kiy Prints," Clementine's voice is ice cold, a warning, a murmur of carefully controlled anger from where she was frozen in place. The Prince purses her lips for the barest moment; she'd always been of the opinion that Clementine sounds too much like The White Death when she speaks Russian. As much as Clementine hated the comparison, it was useful when she needed to punctuate a moment, and this...this is all too much to go unexplained.
"He was going to kill me," The Prince says, regaining her composure only to pout almost comically, cool gaze focusing back on her victim, "had a gun and everything." At least this time she puts the half assembled gun onto the tray table in front of her instead of using it to gesture so casually. Still, there's no real care or concern from the girl; Clementine feels a little ill at the implications of it all.
"Why is he here?" Through gritted teeth.
"Whatever do you mean?" Everything about The Prince's sudden wide-eyed innocence is an expertly controlled mask, one Clementine knows all too well, and one through which she can see a family resemblance. In the face of a credible threat, The Prince, like her brother, always became smug. Confident in the power she is able to wield, The Prince fully believes she has nothing to really fear.
"Who is he? Why did you lure him here?"
A long moment passes, then another. Silence between the two, The Prince scrutinises Clementine with an almost clinical detachment, as if with intent to dissect. Clementine is fucking sick of the way this family look at her, but shewon't blink first.
Slowly, The Prince's lips twist with amusement.
"You don't even ask if I'm okay," there's something in The Prince's tone, or perhaps shining in her eyes, that Clementine can't quite comprehend. It makes the hair on the back of her neck rise.
"You are," a statement, not a question. The Prince's smile grows wider, that light in her eyes grows brighter.
"Just sit him up, we have time for explanations before he wakes up," the moment breaks like nothing peculiar had rust happened, and The Prince went back to carefully picking through the parts of the gun scattered before her.
So Clementine complies; she tells herself it's only because her own neck is beginning to ache looking at the poor man cramped in like that. After putting down her bag, it only takes her a moment to prop the man up, attempting a discrete medical check on him as she worked to shift him into what had been her seat. The bruising around his left temple and eye confused her, considering The Prince has never been a particularly physical fighter, however the moment the man's head lols towards Clementine as she's sitting him up, she get clarification by way of two minute, angry burn marks an inch and a half apart. What would be almost impossible to notice to the untrained eye is far too familiar to the operative, whose whole body tenses in visceral reaction the moment she recognises them.
"What kind of voltage did you use on him?" Clementine hissed, mind alight with the memory of how sharp the pain is from electricity. Once again she pressed her fingers against the man's pulse point by his jaw, just to double check;still steady.
"Hasn't changed from last time," considering Clementine knew the voltage of The Prince's taser was already illegally high, that isn't exactly reassuring. She does, however, take some small comfort in the begrudging tone The Prince takes with her next words; "it appears youdo have a higher constitution than I gave you credit for." Though both are far too aware that it was neither intended as a compliment, nor will it be taken as one.
"And the bruises on his face?" Retaining her focus, Clementine finds herself struggling to keep her composure after The Prince nonchalantly explains about the man having fallen face-first into the armrest; kneeling in front of him, Clementine still holds the man's face with one hand, the other moving to lift his eyelid to check -
"Don't wake him!"
"He might have a concussion!"
"He'lllive, you can check him when he's awake -"
"If he wakes up."
"You think you're the only person I tested on?"
There's a certain tone The Prince takes on almost exclusively around Clementine, a sharpness that betrays her impatience that she goes to great lengths to hide from everyone else. To her, Clementine's obedience has always been easy to buy, so she never felt as though she had to manipulate her into it, "weaker men than Mister Kimura here have survived, now take a seat, fruit fly."
"Where?" When Clementine finally leaves the man's side, it's to stand and level an truly unimpressed glare at the girl who just made her give up her seat to the man who allegedly came here to kill her.
The Prince sighed deeply, as if she had to take a moment to compose herself before pointing at the empty seat directly in front of her. The seats are at least staggered, meaning that if anything were to happen, the man would be as close to Clementine as he would be to The Prince. It's not ideal, but she figures between her own capabilities, the clear line of sight she'd be granted, and whatever scheme the hypercompetent teen behind her is running, The Prince wouldn't be inimmediate danger. However, as soon as Clementine is seated, bag in her lap, The Prince decides to situate herself in the seat in front of her victim, across the aisle from Clementine, able to better converse with her
"His name is Yuichi Kimura, and he's here to kill me because I pushed his son off the roof of a shopping complex," The Prince explains without a hint of worry or remorse, without even giving Clementine a chance to speak, "Idid doit to incentivise Mister Kimura there into tracking me down here; I need a favour from him." It's candid and no-nonsense, almost like it's trivial to her,even as she pauses to deliberate, "well, I needed someone with far more effective buttons to push than you," and she has thegall to sound amused at that, adding as an afterthought; "as his sonis alive,for now."
A white-hotrage burns through Clementine's veins in an instant upon hearing it, an long forgotten ache reigniting by her hip. But Clementine would never give The Prince the satisfaction of seeing her as any sort of hypocrite, so she chooses not to react.
"A favour?" Her gaze is shallow. All she can do is keep her thoughts and feelings in the immediate.
"I've got a whole little spiel about that," The Prince practically light up with gleeful anticipation, "right now you don't need to worry about it; I just want you here for when hedoes wake up, just in case," she gives a mischievous grin, as if she doesn't even believe what she's saying, "then you can go back to looking for that case for me." Something curdles in Clementine's stomach as she bites down on protests and questions alike.
It takes a long time for Clementine to swallow the orders without questioning them; her last hurdle was this teen girl and her ego, she tried to focus on that, on better things. Her freedom. Her bonus. Her future.
"You know, don't you?" Clementine finally murmurs, "you know the rightful owner of the case, who it's going to, don't you?"
"Of course," there's a strange moment in which The Prince's expression softens, some kind of question in her eyes that Clementine can't quite glean, "I told you it was never for me."
In this moment, it gets a little easier to breathe. If, amongst all this shit Clementine really washere to be The Prince's bodyguard her father's behest,perhaps she could simply focus on herself. If The Prince's scheme merely ran parallel to Clementine, if it didn'ttechnically involve her getting caught up in it all,thenmaybe she could consider forgiving the brat a little. After today, she never had to look back.
"Okay," Clementine finally nods, exhaling slowly. Her easy compliance seems to catch her charge by surprise.
"No follow up questions? Justokay?"
"Oh, I have a million but I doubt you'll give me a straight answer," Clementine's expression relaxes, opens up, meeting The Prince's gaze like it's a challenge, "so I'm adapting." The Prince is ready to meet her challenge, leaning forward with something in her eyes that has Clementine on edge.
"Adapting," The Prince somehow says the single word like a threat, tone poisonously bright as she continues, "is that why you came back sounding like someone else?"
How had it not registered?! How had she not caught that?! How could she let The Prince catch her so thoroughly off guard?! Clementine's Brooklyn accent is like neon in hindsight.
"Now I should ask," The Prince said carefully, leaning further forward into the aisle with a cruel smile, hands on her knees, "what happened when you went looking for the briefcase? Don't tell me you got distracted." It had been a crack in Clementine's mask; a sliver of power over her is more than no real power at all.
"No, ma'am," despite her furious disappointment, Clementine refuses to let The Prince know she was right. After her conversation with The Twins and The Son, she'd taken The Prince's call still sporting the accent she'd picked back up around Tangerine. It would have been a stark contrast from the accent she'd mirrored from the girl herself when boarding the train, but it had been allowed to stick as The Prince never made any mention or indication that she had noticed a change. Until now, of course. So she'd found her English accent once more, adding, "fugue state," by way of explanation as she willed her expression and tone to return to something neutral.
"Fugue state?" The Prince deadpans, clearly displeased with the unexpected answer. Clementine nods, doubling down. The Prince frowns, "am I not even worth the effort to lie convincingly to?"
"No, ma'am."
A genuinely sickened look passes over The Prince's face for a moment as she regards Clementine, disappointment and anger coalescing in her expression before the operative's very eyes. When it passes, she appears far less amused than she had after her momentary victory over her bodyguard.
"Lie all you want, you selfish, little Scorpion," The Prince's voice drops low, words spat with malice, "but today ismy day, not yours; I amyour assignment."
"Are you threatening yourself?"
"All I'm saying is that I'm not above jeopardising your assignment if you jeopardise mine," The Prince's smile is tight, "after all, I don't think my father will carewhy I ended up in hospital, just that a failure is a failure; you remember him saying that, don't you?" There's a violent kind of cruelty barely hidden beneath her candid tone that cuts Clementine to the bone, the words in clear, sharp Russian, "a failure is a failure."
Sometimes she sounds more like her father than her brother ever did.
Clementine won't break eye contact, won't react, expression blank even whilst rioting inside, alight with of pain, humiliation, andblistering anger.
"Say it, Clementine, I need to know you understand; a failure is a failure." Even if she says it in English this time, it's still a power move, cruel and simple and effective. All Clementine can do in this moment is concede.
"A failure is a failure."
"And you know better than to put either of us in danger byruining everything, don't you?"
Clementine is silent.
"Of course you do, because you're a tragically,pathetically passive creature who will doanything to survive. At least it makes you predictable andobedient," a scoff of disgust, "of course he was obsessed with you," she spits once more, calling back to their earlier conversation, "honestly the real shock was you growing something of a spine. But that's gone now.Clearly; lucky for me I suppose." In this moment, The Prince knows she's won, that she has Clementine under her thumb for the time being like her father before her, like her brother so often wanted.
But Clementine will not back down.
"If that's what you want to believe, ma'am."
The tension finally breaks when The Prince finally rolls her eyes, sitting back in her seat as exasperation practically radiated from her.
"You can go away now," she huffs, clearly put-out, "someone with a briefcase headed that way, go see if it's the right one," The Prince orders almost dismissively, gesturing with little more than a flick of her wrist towards the bar car. Standing, the teen stretches in an attempt to ignore the way Clementine's frowning at her, "go on, fly away, fruit fly." Looking past The Prince, Clementine draws her attention back to the still unconscious Kimura in the next seat along, "don't worry about him, he's all tied up, and I promise the first thing I'll let him know is that I have someone on standby to kill his darling son in case anything happens to me." The Prince casts her gaze over her shoulder to her victim, tonejarringly light all of a sudden, "he was fully prepared to kill the person who pushed his son, I think it's safe to say he won't try anything if the child is in danger; I don'treally need you here," then, almost spitefully, "adapt, Clementine."
There's a few brief but blissful moments wherein Clementine fantasizes about simply throwing The Prince out of the train's window, waving goodbye to her, and accepting her fate. But she can't; all she's worked for, all she'sdone, she'snot jeopardising thatnow.
"What did they look like?" Clementine asks one final question. "The person with the briefcase, what did they look like?"
"I think he had glasses," The Prince says after a moment of consideration, "and a hat; I think you'll know him when you see him." It's not much, but Clementine can work with it. So, finally, she stands. The Prince brightens upimmediately, "good; I'll call you if I need you." It was the only thing Clementine could honestly take her on her word about; The Prince was many things, but could never be called an idiot. So Clementine's stuck for a response, but then finds herself realising that,oh, wait, that's a thought! A thought for a different place, away from The Prince. As much as Clementine knows that leaving her teen charge alone with various weapons and a man she's blackmailing is a terrible idea, there was something undeniably appealing about having plausible deniability regarding the unfolding situation.
Before the door to the last car of the train there was a bathroom, and Clementine darts in, locking the door and immediately sagging against it with a heavy sigh. There she lets herself take a moment to breathe, even if it's shaky. Then, in a flash, she's tearing into her bag.Literally.
While a majority of its contents consisted of a surprisingly diverse range of medical supplies, Clementine also, of course, carried both essentials, as well as many discrete weapons. The first blade she grabs is a fold away knife attached to a keychain with countless useless, decoy keys she'd picked up over the years. The blade slices the lining at the end of the bag with ease.
Clementine was nothing if not prepared for any eventuality; passports and photocards from her various jobs across the world, each from a different country, rows of currency from various denominations, and the thing she found most important in this moment, a small plastic case full of old, SIM cards, all carefully packed between the leather and lining of her bag. The only SIM cards she ever bothered to keep were from jobs in the recent years where she'd made connections, had handed out her number at the time. For years she'd been in the habit of saving relevant numbers directly to her SIM card while on jobs as it made them far easier to both find and hide between both her more consistent personal phone, as well as the revolving door of burner phones she went through on the job. Once a fortnight she checked all that she kept on a burner phone to make sure there was no-one attempting to follow up with her. There's six from the past year, all prepaid with free international calls, all labelled in code in their tiny, plastic display box in the lining of her bag.
Box clutched between both hands, she slides down the door until she's sitting on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to her chest. Breathing carefully controlled, she knows there's no way he still has the same number... But she had totry. Because the last thing she wants is for Tangerine to come looking for her and instead find his assignment's resentful, scheming sister and the man with the gun she blackmailed. There's no way to spin that that doesn't end badly.
Despite it all, Clementine's hands don't shake; she retrieved the SIM card she'd used in New York, making quick work of putting it into the empty, second SIM card slot in her own phone beside the much newer Japanese SIM.
She never thought she'd be so relieved to see his the stupid name he'd been saved into her phone as, but the minute she sees it, there's a rush of warmth that fills her. It wasa chance, not just to warn him, but forreal contactagain -
It had been close to midnight, several hours after her shift had ended that day back in New York, with Clementine sitting daintily on the edge of his bed in her underwear as she frowned at the new contact screen on her phone. Tangerine had entered his number but the name section now taunted her with it's blankness.
So she'd asked him. It had been a test of sorts; she'd been curious to see what code name he'd give himself in the situation.
"I don't know, it's your phone," the balcony doors were open, Tangerine having stepped through them to light himself a cigarette. Leaning against the railing, he looked out over the Hudson River, wearing little more than his nondescript pyjama pants. For just a moment, Clementine admires him, aglow in the city lights. For just a moment, Clementine wishes she could experience moments like this honestly. But the moment ends, as all moments do.
"I just need something that won't raise suspicion; it can't be just your name," locking her phone, Clementine picked up his shirt that had been laying crumpled on the floor, throwing it on without bothering to do up more than one button, joining him in the cool night air, "'cause everyone will figure out where I'm going when I take these breaks," she mused as she leaned on the railing beside him. Without even having to ask, Tangerine offers his cigarette, and Clementine takes it, taking a long drag before handing it back, "'s unprofessional," she breathes out with a lungful of smoke.
"Nothing unprofessional about good customer service, love," Tangerine doesn't look at her, but he's smiling, sharp and teasing, eyes creasing at the corners in the way that brightens his whole face. Clementine grinned broadly, unashamedly watching him now. It takes a few moments of silence before he finally looks at her again, sees her just smiling as she watches him, "what?" He can't help but ask, and Clementine's grin gets wider.
"Detective,you are the onlycustomer I amservicing."
"'making me feel all special saying stuff like that," Tangerine jokes, but even as he looks away, Clementine can see his smile turning bashful. Then, almost as if to further deflect, "you know no-one would get mad if you took a call from your dad." It takes a few moments for his words to sink in and for Clementine to realise what he was implying, but by then not only is Tangerine looking intently in the opposite direction, but he's also mid-inhale on his cigarette.
"Is that really your suggestion?" She's grinning from ear to ear.
"Iswhat my suggestion?" Tangerine attempted to play dumb, but Clementine could hear him smiling.
There's no other number she would have saved under the name Daddy💖, and in the bathroom of the bullet train she's never been so glad to see that stupid contact name in her phone. All she has is hope, and a phone plan with unlimited international texting.
[tangerine]
It wouldn't be from a familiar number; her credit from New York expired months ago, so it would be confusing but innocuous enough if received by anyone else, but if he got it, he could at least reply so she could confirm -
Unable to deliver.
Fuck. Okay. Good to know. At least she tried.Leave the bathroom. Find the case. Finish the mission. One thing at a time. Focus on the moment, not the peripheries, the weird hurricane of uncomfortable coincidences that she's still trying to convince herself are just that.
So she tries to do just that. The next car along, the bar car simple, surely.
Except for the smashed glass and the sharp smell of iron-rich blood that even the air conditioning can't completely diffuse.
And the man in the corner; at first it looks as though he's asleep, but after a few moments Clementine can't detect the slow rise and fall of his chest that would accompany breathing. Something about the way he's sitting is awkward, like he was posed, bottle in his arms and blanket draped over most of him. Maybe it would have fooled someone else, or at least fooled them for longer. Just to make sure, Clementine speaks to try and get his attention, and when he doesn't react, she carefully holds her hand inches from his face; he's not breathing. It's like a switch is flipped, her caution abandoned as she drags the blanket off of him with one hand, the other checking his pulse; he's still warm, maybe she could -
The movement jostles him and the sunglasses fall away. The first thing Clementine realises is that she knows him, then she sees the crimson-stained gash in his nice white suit, right over his heart, and then it sinks in that despite how she's had her fingers against his pulse point for several long seconds now, his heartbeat has been completely still.
The Scorpion had always held great respect for The Wolf. They'd never been on conflicting jobs as The White Death's interests rarely conflicted with El Saguano, but they had occasionally worked parallel to one another when Clementine had taken assignments in America. Their field of work wasn't exactly popular; everyone good at their job became known in their world. Every bit as efficient and effective as Clementine ever was, however, The Wolf was one of the few in their line of work who she could honestly consider something of a friend, and still regarded the few times they drank together fondly, each time having been at the end of successful assignments.
Something inside of her shuts down. Each movement is muscle memory at this point, unbuttoning his top buttons, carefully trying to get a better look at the wound, inspecting it with clinical detachment. She could have stitched him up if he hadn't been hit in the heart. Her fingertips come away red and slick with blood. The bounty of medical supplies sitting right beside her are absolutely useless. If he had been hit anywhere else, she thinks she could have saved him. Sitting back on her heels, Clementine wipes his blood from her fingers on the sleeve of his white suit, and can't bring herself to get back up.
"Maybe in another life I could trust you enough to invite you to my wedding," he'd told her the last time he saw her. It was years ago now, but she still remembers the sunrise from the motel roof they'd clambered onto during the early hours of the morning. Clementine had laughed until he'd made a comment about how she couldn't bring her 'idiot boy toy'. Clementine just takes another shot. Tequila burns different when she's drinking with The Wolf; she'd wished he would just go back to his uncharacteristically fond tangents about his fiancé.
The Prince finds Clementine still in the bar car, with a deeply confused Mister Kimura in tow. Of course she takes the scene in stride; Clementine kneeling beside the corpse, who she'd tucked back in with his blanket, having taken and started to drink the bottle he'd been posed with; the liquor burned different than she was used to, it always did when she drank with The Wolf.
"You..." The Prince begins slowly, but Clementine doesn't look away from The Wolf's face, her own expression drawn, "don't have to keep looking,"for the case? At The Wolf? Clementine doesn't care enough to discern exactly what she means, "I need you to do something for me."
"Okay," comes from Clementine as a robotic mumble. She caps the bottle. There's no resistance, no resignation, no fight against the cruel teen puppeteer.
"Oh get up," at least it seems like The Prince is bordering on caring about Clementine, sighing as she takes the operative by the elbow, urging her to stand. Clementine obligingly stands, but her gaze is shallow when she finally looks to her charge. The Prince, after taking a moment to look over Clementine, almost as if sizing her up, reaches up and loops her finger through the chain of her necklace that was still peaking out by her neck, pulling it fully from where Clementine had tried to keep it beneath her collar. The clementine charm seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, but The Prince just smiled. Mister Kimura keeps looking between The Wolf and Clementine, his expression unreadable.
Clementine needs an incentive to get out of this car, she'll do anything, it feels like she can't breathe in here -
"Now fruit fly, there's a man in a blue suit; I need you to keep him distracted."
#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x oc#tangerine x reader#tangerine#bullet train 2022#bullet train oc#bullet train#bullet train movie#the prince#the prince bullet train#tangerine bullet train x oc#tangerine x clementine#its in my nature#bullet train imagine#bullet train x reader#bullet train x oc#tangerine imagine#tangerine bullet train imagine
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Weekly Update March 8, 2024
I didn’t do as much as I had hoped over spring break due to still being sleep deprived, but tomorrow and the next night I should be able to catch up. I’m making a good deal of progress on stuff.
I figured out animation with Clip Studio enough to make a little gif of Romeo playing piano, to go along with his theme. I’m really happy with how it came out. That’s the biggest song I have ready, but I’m really close on another (unless I decide to get more ambitious, which I might), and I do have a smaller one scheduled to go up Tuesday. I’m feeling surprisingly good about music.
The main problem I’m having is kind of a ‘just finish it’ thing, where I’m just not motivated to go record melodies or melody parts for whatever reason. That’s what’s holding back a couple pieces now, but I’m hoping that I can do some tonight or tomorrow. I’m thinking tonight because I got hit with inspiration for another character theme melody, and I don’t want to lose it while I sleep tonight, but I’d feel bad starting in that when another character theme and some other miscellaneous pieces are also awaiting melodies and recordings. I’d like to knock a whole bunch out tonight, because theoretically they shouldn’t be that bad, the annoying part is dressing them up for use which doesn’t need to be done tonight. Im not sure if I want to tonight because I also want to draw, at a minimum I’ll record that character theme melody.
The other big music thing is a vocaloid cover of a song that I’m using to test out how vocaloid works. I got the audio back from the friend with the voicebanks, and it sounds a lot better than expected! There’s a couple things I do want to tweak, but I don’t think I’d be able to do it from within the program, it’ll probably be more me fiddling with the wav file. Idk song is going surprisingly well, shouldn’t be very complicated to round up instruments, I already got all the plugins set up it’s just a matter of recording. I’ve also managed to find a guy in my area who offers Guitar lessons for cheap, which I’ve been taking and I do think the two I’ve been to are helping. Maybe if I get really brazen I can record organic guitar instead of using a vst, since it should be mostly or entirely power chords, but it’s not the end of the world if I can’t.
I do want to figure out visuals to go with it. I was a little hesitant to really put in a big effort with it, until I heard that buying a license for cover rights is ‘not actually that expensive’. I don’t know if that means 10 or 200 bucks but worst case I can hold onto it until I’m comfortable enough to drop money if it’s really that expensive. I’d like to do a simple music video with the vocaloid character, since the original song’s video is also really simple, although I need to figure out character design. Might throw a few together and put up a poll.
I’ve been trying to get more drawing stuff done too, some miscellaneous animations mostly. I’m really trying to push myself to finish up the timings I need for my commission sheet, and honestly I’m pretty close. I feel bad because I probably will have to increase prices after all, but I’m also offering other options, which can still be cheap. I’m trying not to undercut myself for my level of work, but art commissions are so expensive that I don’t want to be overcharging either. Most of the comms I have done have come with tips, so I guess people are willing to pay a bit more than I was charging anyway, but even then I don’t want to crank the prices high just because a few people are willing to pay more. I’m charging based on time, I just need to sort out how long things take.
Final point, comic writing/thumbnailing is going well, I’m at 25.5/32. Unsure how bad editing is going to be, but I’m kinda editing as I go along so I don’t anticipate it’ll be that bad. I’m expecting to be able to actually start making pages soon. What comes next could either be a continuation or a pitch for the other story. I get more questions about the other story, so I’m tempted, but I also feel like it’s a harder sell than the first. Whatever I need to finish the first one first, and that’s what I’ll do.
I’m still messed up on sleep and flareups are also picking up pretty bad, but only in the mornings, so I bet if I get more sleep they’ll go away too. Either way I do have a consult for the next surgery to deal with that in a couple months, so I should hopefully be okay. Plan tonight is to either draw some more or record some stuff
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Olly: Rambling With Bees
Drabble that turned into nearly four pages of Olly ranting about a guy he has a crush on at his bees. He spends most of it either talking about how pretty the guy is, how he shouldn’t make a move because he’s divorced and recovering from all that, OR just mad at himself for not noticing how bad his crush had gotten. He’s a fool and would not let me work on literally any other WIPs until I finished this one. Idea brought about because of some silly fun sandbox play :D
All those years of monk therapy bullshit did kinda pay off. Sorta. At least enough so Olly can notice when he needs to decompress before he seriously spirals out again. He’d let his staff at the bakery know he’d be at home today, and they could handle themselves alone for twenty-four hours without setting a fire. Hopefully. Probably. Fuck it they’ll be fine Lemon’s shift lead.
After a frankly shit night of sleep, full from a big breakfast and a little stoned, the tiefling was finally steady enough to try to get his shit together. Olly steps out into his back garden, does a quick glance around the perimeter, and takes a deep breath. It’s just early enough that the spring morning still feels a little crisp, the delicate scent of bee balm and lavender from the tidy garden beds drift over on a light breeze, and the sun is already high enough to beam down in shafts through the oaks dotted around the yard. All in all, not the worst morning to have a heart to heart with yourself. Could be worse. Could be raining. Olly fiddles with the little carved wooden ring around his middle finger, flicking the spinning inside ring once and watching as it flashes bright yellow. The glow brightens for a breath before sinking into the tiny carved animal faces on the ring and puts them in stark relief against the dark brown wood, the little bee glowing the brightest of them all. Handy dandy animal friendship spell in place, he heads over to the back of the yard, plucking a handful of blooms as he goes before flopping inelegantly in front of the largest of the hives in the center of the neat little trio of bee houses along the back fence. He sighs loudly, letting all the air push out of his lungs and folding his flower-filled hands on his stomach to settle in for a long stupid emotional talk.
“I wanna try askin him out. Fuckin gods above do I wanna try, but I shouldn’t. Don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable cause I decide ta try flirtin with him like some shit fer brains asshole who can’t take a hint and just be his friend,” he grumbles as he huffs loudly to himself. A small swarm of bees file out of the hive and start buzzing around him, a couple landing on the flowers on his chest and getting to work doing their bee thing. Olly smiles softly at the sight before the image of the previous night pops back into his head and he scowls. He can easily recall how his fingers had wound through long brown hair and braided it away from that stupidly pretty man’s face. All because Olly just couldn’t resist trying to take care of him after the man had backed Olly up in some dumbass bar fight. “I was pushin my fuckin luck tyin his hair back fer him and I knew it. He was kinda tipsy after all, and yeah we’d just wrapped up a bit of a scuffle at the bar so maybe he wasn’t all that tipsy after that, but he…he uh…after I fixed his hair fer ‘em he-shit-well he…he kissed my cheek and had me walk ‘im back ta his room. I bolted before he’d even closed the door all the way. Just wanted it ta be an actual date so bad so I could kiss his stupid fuckin hand goodnight or somethin and didn’t trust it not ta show of my fuckin dumbass glass head,” Olly growled low, his chest rumbling with the sound. There was an answering buzz from the hives around him and he sighed, sinking further into the thick clover below as he focused on breathing again. Another bee landed on his hand. He stopped growling.
“Yeah if he didn’t wanna give us a go he wouldn’t be a prick about it. Put on the fuckin five-o boss man voice and all, walk me through all the feelings cause he’s good like that, put me down real gentle. Yeah sure. He’d do that. Stay friends after the pity period too. Wouldn’t be the worst outcome,” he says, wincing as he imagines how that talk would go. Might have to bite the bolt and just let that happen anyway. Get it all out in the open. Shit he didn’t wanna have to sit through that. More bees came out of the hives, slowly beginning to dart in the air above him, little yellow and black bodies humming all together. Some broke off to go into the flower beds and others stayed to investigate their prone keeper and the handful of flowers on his chest.
“I’d feel like a dickhead tryin ta take him out if he wasn’t done processing his divorce. Not like I’m just tryin ta be his friend ta get into his pants or nothing, cause I fuckin ain’t he’s just a good person and I like hangin out with him. Fuck I don’t want him to think that’s the only reason I wanted ta be friends. We were friends before I found out about the divorce yeah but…I didn’t bring him soup or nothin before I knew about it. Fuck even worse what if he figured out he really only thought I was hot enough for a lay? He already told me he didn’t wanna rebound date, that his feelings were all mixed up and he didn’t wanna hurt me or nothin so we should start as friends. I get that. Super. I don’t wanna be a rebound. I like being his friend. I do. Fuck he’s so worth takin a risk though. We could have a seriously good thing brewin,” Olly said softly, recalling the way the man looked when he’d kissed his knuckles on impulse. He’d flushed red, shit he was cute when he got flustered, but still the man was so headstrong and funny. Hells even when he was recovering from his work injury and Olly’d practically broken into his flat he’d starting trying to tidy up. Who does that? If Olly knew more maybe he could've helped with that too, like where he liked to keep his mugs, how he organized his books, how he liked his clothes folded away, what hangs up what doesn’t. Do they do anything fancy with his uniform? He’d always looked put together the handful of times he’d dropped off a surprise lunch basket at the precinct. Would it help if Olly ironed it the night before? It hit him all at once then and he gasped, clutching his hands around the flowers and growling low, tail lashing on the ground as he sucked in another breath to try to keep himself from whining like an injured beast.
“Fuckin shit I’d move across the fuckin mountains fer this guy! When the fuck did that happen?! When the fuck did I start thinking about this dumb fuckin crush like that? I ain’t even told him about being a fuckin bait dog! Shit on a stick and fuck me sideways I gotta pull back. Hells below he gets so soft sometimes though. Wanna make him feel safe enough to do that and know I won’t be a judgy asshole. Bring him flowers and lunch and help him unpack around his place and cook stupid little date night dinners with him and try ta get him ta dance with me after doing dishes and watch the little cousins together cause once they warm up a bit he’s fuckin good with them and he’s fun ta be around and-fuckin shit I am so lost on this guy how did I not notice!?” Olly rambled, getting louder and more angry at himself as he went, growl rumbling back to full force by the end. He took a deep breath, dropping the flowers onto his chest so he could press the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see swirling colors behind the closed lids. Olly let out a long string of nonsense infernal before sighing again, slowly moving his arms back down onto his chest to avoid hurting any of the bees still darting around him. The swarm had gotten the air around him buzzing, but already bits of them were slowly filtering back into their hives now that the flowers he’d brought over had been worked over. That’s his cue. Gotta bite the bolt. Now or never.
“I gotta get over this. Dammit I am not gonna fuck up a good thing cause’a my dumbass feelings,” he growled loudly, huffing again and rubbing his cheeks hard to try to pull himself back together. “I’m takin the day off, baking myself silly, and gettin back ta work tomorrow. No random drop in visits for at least a week. Maybe two. I gotta back off. Distract myself or somethin. Hells might be time I do another fuck me show. Always manage ta pull at least one date outta that. Fuck it if it doesn’t work at least I’m tryin somethin.”
#dnd story#dnd olly#olly dnd#love this brat to death but wow is he feeling Dramatic lol#he talks to his bees a lot because that's the way he feels closest to his dead mother u_u
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listening to the 2006 taylor swift homophobic CD for the meme. thoughts:
the first three songs are BAD. they're bad.
insert picture to burn homophobia here. "shade never made anybody less gay" but she sure tried in 2006 to prove the difference
DREW DON'T CAARE
a place in this world is on thin ice bc my friend says it could apply to a book i really like. its fine. it's nothing to call home about but it's fine
why is cold as you quieter than all of the other songs so far. did anyone look at the mixing for this CD before putting it on the market. shame bc its the best song so far but maybe thats the nostalgia talking
with a debut album like this who needs a flop era
whatever this sixth song is sounds like it would be fun to sing while drunk with friends, just because of those notes in the chorus that flick upwards. also very cheesy. dear god this album is so cheesy please stop im lactose intolerant
am i halfway through this already
ooh a duet? with whom? probably one of those Country Music Television lads from back in the day no?
this song isn't bad. i forget which one we're on. it's not bad. tim mcgraw set my expectations really low you see
there's this next song (stay beautiful?) that the verses are sooooooo bad but the chorus is fun. taylor could write chorus melodies only in this era i think. nothing else is good but by god those choruses sound a bit fun that it kinda rots my hater soul a bit
good evening rubia. you said you own the homophobic edition of the taylor swift 2006 cd. before you you will find 45 free minutes and a CD player, if you bop in your seat a bit and admit some of these songs sound fun, a mallet will come down on your head blasting your brains to bits immediately. listen wisely
do i hear a fiddle? the fiddler is carrying this
OH i recognise this what the fuck is it. i remember this what's the name??? should've said no? the chorus is the best part once again, the verses are hard to get through. 6/10 it's listenable and she doesn't bitch about gay people in this one (i think i'm not reading the lyrics to this)
i'm starting to regret deciding to listen to this whole CD.
I'll never sin again please make it stop
I need to stop being sober
THE BEGINNING OF MARY'S SONG IS . I DON'T LIKE THAT!
they use this CD to brainwash people into becoming conservatives but it's not going to work on me it's not
"Yeah rubia like your politics were any better than this in 2006." they were actually. i was a six year old but i was a six year old with standards
i could turn this off at any time and delete this post draft and no one would know. there's still time to save myself
oh thank god the fiddler is back. OUR SONG!?!? not the worst song, not the best. nostalgia is assisting me through this one. at least it's kinda fun. at least she's having fun. see i can be a joyful person
never mind the bridge in this one is kinda weak. hey at least it's also short
i survived this CD. don't ever make me do this ever again
#rubia speaks#taylor swift CD (homophobic edition)#music review#stans don't hate me im taking the piss is all i'm doing
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before i can start even thinking about my dress for Lady Stede, i need to consider the four base layers i need to support it:
1: Shift
my plan is to go quick and a little dirty here- just a bog standard basic shift pattern with a drawstring at the neck. its not inaccurate for the era, but i really am not abiding by any specific history here. i dont do enough costuming to have more than one shift, so i want something that will work with as many different pieces as possible, and the drawstring will hopefully allow that. i have some linen i bought with the intent of making a shift or shirt a little while back, so its finally time to use it up!
2: Stays
i already own redthreaded's 1750s stays pattern, so im going to employ that here! its going to be a perfect time period for the dress im making, and im already enamoured with the style as it is. i actually bought the pattern with the intent of making a fashion set of stays using a cotton print i got for pennies that reminded me of those gorgeous blue and white print designs. i think that plan fits stede without need to change anything, so i just get to move that project up the list! i think my only adjustments are that ill make sure i pay attention to the histori silhouette when fitting a bit more. im not quite sure what im. going to be using for my strength layer yet, i wont have enough coutil without buying more, and so i was considering trying a more historical option if i have to make a purchase anyway.
(the fabric- the colour is more blue in person i promise!)
3: Pocket Hoops
theres probably a good argument to be made that a full pannier would be a more appropriate undergarment for a lady stede costume, especially with my influences... however. i have to get this into a suitcase, so it absolutely has to be pocket hoops. ill tell myself that thats Stede's idea of toning it down on the boat, of practicality. ive stared at a lot of images of pocket hoops in this process already, and i think ive determined the key factor in making a pair i would like: the top length. pocket hoops where the length between the top hoop and the waist is too short pull at a weird angle i hate, and ones where its too long go saggy and lose the dramatic shape of the skirt. it seems to be a very easy thing to get wrong because ive seen a lot of ones that just dont look right to me. the rest of the pocket hoop is easy as pie. ive got a couple patterns in books i own already, and ive decided to go with the enclosed style, for storage potential. the rest of the pattern ill fiddle with until its giving me the shape i really want. i dont have any hooping wire or cane, and i dont want to buy in bulk (which is the way all my usual haunts sell it) so im going on a fun trip to the hardware store to see if i can find a boning alternative!
4: Under-Petticoat
ive seen two main styles of this, the one thats a base skirt designed to go under the pocket hoops, and the one that is essentially the same as the petticoat you see, two halves that tie front and back and go over the hoops. im yet to decide which style im going with for certain, though im leaning towards the second style because for my purposes, i cant see how the first really helps? ill have a shift that long anyway and its away from the top surfaces, so it seems obsolete to me. doing it the other way will also give me chance to practice for my outer petticoat, too. but i think i still have a lot of research to do on this particular element before making a final decision. i know im going to use a random cotton i have around though, probably old bedsheets or something of the like. something breezy and light but inexpensive and not precious yardage.
looks like im going to have a busy winter!
#yeah i think theres probably gonna be more of this going on#jst. writing 1 billion words about my prep process#im having fun#ill go into everything in more detail when i actually get into them but this is a goos overview of what ive been thinking#these are the bits i need to crack on with so i can do the FUN stuff#jk i love making corsets n i expect ill love making stays#i could probably skip the shift n wear a modern base layer but. i did buy that linen#realistically im not making a pirate shirt outta it. my styles evolved somewhat#if anyone has any input on anything please tell me! i love to talk#Lady Stede Build
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