#going to shake my brain like a muppet

[local-magpie]

bro wtf why am i so stressed tonight i feel like throwing up

[sysig]

Wouldn’t want him getting lost now, would we (Patreon)

[thebibliosphere]

In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.

Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."

Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."

And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.

Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.

My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.

And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"

And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.

Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.

I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.

The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:

ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.

(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)

And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."

And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 12

Chapter Summary: The evil that you thought you had gotten rid of is still very much lurking within Hawkins. You, your boyfriend, and your friends race against time to try and find Eddie before it’s too late.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, knives and blood, jealous Steve

Word Count: 6.5k

Author’s Note: This chapter is starting to get season 4 going, so that’s pretty epic. I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you so much for reading it <3

Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, send me asks! Tell me shit, ask me questions, y’all are fun to talk to ;)

Series Masterlist | Part 11 | Next Part

***

Your Saturday started out like any normal Saturday. Steve peppered soft kisses to your skin as you woke up from your comfortable slumber wrapped in his arms. You ate breakfast together and got ready before picking up Robin and making your way to Family Video. It had taken a significant amount of convincing to get Keith to let the three of you work together, considering there was really only enough work for two people to do, but he finally agreed to it since, in his own words, “Steve barely even counts.”

You all were reorganizing the shelves as Robin recounted her conversation with Vickie at the basketball game the night prior. “Then Vickie laughed. And it wasn’t like a cheap fake laugh either. It was like…it was a real, genuine laugh!”

“Of course she laughed, Rob. It’s my muppet joke. It’s hilarious,” Steve replied as he restocked the horror section. You rolled your eyes from your perch on the counter, glaring up at him as you stopped sorting out the returned movies.

“My point is that Vickie laughed, and everything was just like…it was perfect! But I’m having this problem where it’s like, I should stop talking. I have said everything I need to say, but then I guess I get nervous and the words keep spilling out, and it’s like my-my brain is moving faster than my mouth or…or rather my-my mouth is moving faster than my brain, and…and it’s like I’m digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging and I’m trying to stop digging, but I can’t, and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you are,” you responded, looking at her with a great deal of sympathy. You knew how she was feeling. You couldn’t even count the amount of times that you had rambled on and on to Steve about something so completely and utterly stupid because you didn’t know when to stop.

“Ugh, I’m hopeless,” Robin backed up against the wall, throwing her head back in exasperation.

“Robin! Don’t say that; you are not hopeless,” you scolded your best friend, “I mean, look. I was completely and utterly hopeless before Steve and I started dating…like if he hadn’t shown up and the planets hadn’t aligned, I’d be single as fuck right now, but everything that the two of us have, started with us just being friends. So, the fact that you’re talking to Vickie and she clearly at least likes you in that capacity is a really damn good sign.”

“I wouldn’t say you would be hopeless, I mean, guys are pretty much throwing themselves at you,” Steve mumbled under his breath, thinking back to how you had interacted with Eddie the night before. You had seemed so comfortable with him and he hated to admit it, but the two of you looked like you belonged together far more than you did with him. Eddie marched to the beat of his own drum. He dressed different, he acted different, he didn’t go with the crowd or hop on the bandwagon. You were exactly the same. Sometimes Steve worried that you would wake up and realize that he was way too stereotypical and boring for you and that you would leave him. He pushed the thought aside as you spoke up.

“What do you mean?” Before Steve could answer, Robin began rushing across the room.

“Oh! I think I found our morning movie!” She held up a copy of Doctor Zhivago.

“Ugh, you know I don’t do double VHS,” Steve groaned, shaking his head as he walked past the counter towards her. You stopped him, smacking him in the chest before he could try and take the tape away from Robin before you spoke up.

“We’d actually love to watch it Robin,” you smiled, your eyes still glaring at Steve. Robin jumped up and down a little bit before turning on the television to get it set up, but all of you paused when the news came on.

“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not yet released the victim’s name…” the reported stated, detailing all the information that was known and released.

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered, his and Robin’s eyes transfixed on the screen. His voice sounded far away as your vision blurred with tears. You could barely breathe as you thought about the only two Hawkins High students you knew that lived there: Max and Eddie. If it was either of them, you weren’t sure what you would do. You weren’t sure how you would be able to live and move on.

You stumbled backwards, and you knocked over a pile of VHS tapes as you blindly grabbed for the edge of the counter, beginning to hyperventilate. Robin and Steve snapped out of the trance the news had put them in, as Steve’s head whipped around towards you just in time as you collapsed to the floor.

“Robin turn that off!” Steve yelled, and she grabbed for the remote, quickly silencing the news. You were in a heap on the floor sobbing, barely able to hear Steve as he quickly sat with you on the floor, rubbing big circles across your back to try and calm you down. “Shhhh, y/n. I’m right here, okay baby….I’m right here with you and I’m not going to go anywhere,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple as you cried.

After a while, you finally found the will to calm yourself down, and you had been the one to turn the TV back on. You wanted to know as much as you could. You wanted as much information as possible to rule out the possibility that it was either of your friends. Really the only additional information you got was that it was definitely murder and that the police hadn’t released the names of any suspects, which was a whole lot of nothing to go off of.

You were biting your nails, staring at the screen with furrowed brows, when suddenly the chime of the bell above the door rang out into the otherwise empty store. You jumped, turning around to see Dustin followed by Max Mayfield herself.

“Max!” You shouted as you hopped over the counter and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. She groaned, not expecting the sudden demonstration of how much you cared before she reciprocated.

“Hello to you too, I guess?”

“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” you breathed out, feeling a sense of relief flood your body, knowing that Max wasn’t the unnamed victim from the news. Max was struck by your words, not really even considering the fact that some of her friends may be led to believe that she had been killed based on the location of the murder.

“Are you guys seeing this?” Steve chimed in, pointing to the TV screen in the back corner of the room.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asked suddenly. You looked at him with confusion plastered across your face.

“Someone was just murdered,” Steve replied, annoyed that the boy could be asking about phones at a time like this.

Dustin just slammed his hands on the counter in response, causing you to jump again in your anxious state, before he repeated himself. “How many phones do you have?”

“Two…why?” You spoke up, furrowing your brow.

“Technically three, if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin corrected you, a similar look flashing across her face.

“Three works,” Max spoke up, looking at Dustin. Dustin paused, looking at Steve and Robin behind the counter before throwing his backpack across and hopping it. You and Max were civilized, walking around the counter to join them while Steve protested.

“My tapes! Dude! What are you doing, man?!” Steve groaned. Dustin had a special talent for making things significantly more difficult for Steve…especially at his place of work.

“Setting up base of operations,” Dustin replied, typing into the computer.

You attempted to shove him to the side, away from your computer, but he swatted your hands away. You glared at him with the might of a thousand suns before hip checking him, causing him to stumble to the side. “What the fuck do you guys need our computer for?”

“To look up Eddie’s friends’ phone numbers,” Dustin retorted as if it was obvious.

“Oh Eddie, your new best friend you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game,” Steve grumbled back, but you were only half paying attention as you made eye contact with Max. Clearly the two kids knew something that you didn’t and you were worried what that meant in conjunction with the shit you were hearing on the news.

“I never said that!” Dustin looked at Steve, and you rolled your eyes.

“Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day,” Robin spoke up, reorganizing the shit that Dustin had knocked off the counter.

“Robin, I totally empathize but this cannot wait,” Dustin sighed as he started writing on a clipboard.

“What because calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?”

“Exactly!”

“Do you want me to strangle him or do you want to?” Steve asked you. The chuckle he was about to let out died in his throat when he saw the look on your face.

“I really think we should hear them out,” your voice was small when you replied. You all looked over at Max and she took a deep breath before she began talking.

“The victim…it’s Chrissy Cunningham,” she started, “I saw her body this morning when the police were leaving. The thing is, I saw her go in Eddie’s trailer and shortly after, my TV started going nuts and the lights started flickering like crazy, which isn’t really super out of the ordinary, my electricity is shit….but then I heard screaming and looked out the window and I saw Eddie leave and—and he looked scared. Like really scared.”

Steve reached for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours before he spoke up. “So…Eddie killed Chrissy?”

“Steve! No, he fucking didn’t. That’s why we need the phones so that we can find out where he is so that we can prove that he’s innocent,” Dustin glared at your boyfriend, shoving him a bit.

“Just calm down,” you interjected, standing in between the boys. This was all a lot to unpack and you weren’t going to solve anything if they couldn’t stop bickering. When they both grumbled and crossed their arms, you moved around the counter, swiftly moving to the door and flipping the sign to indicate that the store was closed. “Just, you guys can use the phones, okay? But that’s it. We don’t do anything else until we have something solid to go off of. Do you understand?” You looked between Max and Dustin.

They both began to nod and you shook your head. “No, I need to hear you say it. I’m serious, someone was just killed and we are not putting our lives in jeopardy without some serious cause, okay?”

“Yes, we understand,” Max responded. Dustin spoke up in agreement, and you paused to look at them one more time before turning around.

“I’ll get Keith’s phone from the back. You all start making calls.”

You swiftly headed to the back, grabbing the third phone. You were turning around to leave when you about nearly jumped out of your skin, when you were met face to face with your boyfriend.

“Steve! You scared the shit out of me! Don’t fucking do that!” You put a hand on your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I don’t have a good feeling about this. I mean, the most likely scenario is that Eddie killed that poor girl and now we’re actively trying to find him. He could be fucking dangerous, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay? So, let’s just stop all this bullshit before it’s too late,” he grabbed your hands, rubbing his thumbs along the backs of them as he looked you in the eyes. His brow was furrowed with worry, and you felt a pang in your chest. You knew you had to see this through, if not for Eddie, then for Dustin.

“Steve, I know Eddie. He wouldn’t do something like this. Trust me,” you told Steve, looking him in the eyes with so much conviction that he decided to let it go for now.

You brought the phone out and Hawkins’ Family Video soon became a bustling call center as you all took turns trying to get ahold of anyone who may possibly know where Eddie was. Name after name after name got crossed off your list as you found no answers, and you were beginning to feel hopeless when Max spoke up.

“Hey guys, I might have a lead,” she started, “apparently, Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there.”

“Alright, that sounds promising. So where does this Reefer Rick guy live?” Robin asked.

“See, that’s the thing. No one knows. He’s more of a…legend than someone that people actually know.”

“What about a last name?” You spoke up, attempting to find any additional piece of information that you could follow to find Eddie.

“I don’t know that either.”

“I bet the cops know the last name,” Steve spoke up. He hadn’t been super helpful in calling around, instead choosing to reorganize the store and do some light cleaning. He was reorganizing some tapes with his back to you all and he had said it so nonchalantly.

“What?” You questioned him, irritation settling in your tone.

“I said the cops probably know,” he shot back, “I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.”

“The cops? Really, Steve? That’s your suggestion?” Dustin asked incredulously.

“I just think at this point they should be filled in on what we know; what’s going on.”

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” Dustin stepped forward, but you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to settle him. You could hear the hurt in his voice and you wished that Steve hadn’t been the one to cause it, but then again, tensions were high with everything that was going on; like the implications of Max’s account of her electricity going haywire around the time that Chrissy would have died.

“Woah, woah, woah, I believe in innocent until proven guilty and all that constitutional shit…I just, you know….I just don’t think we can rule it out,” Steve spoke up, avoiding making eye contact with any of you as he messed with a Rubik’s cube on the counter.

“Steve!” You scolded him. Why can’t he just take a leap of faith and believe you guys?

“That’s precisely what we’re trying to do here, Steve,” Max spoke up, glaring at the boy.

“And maybe we’d have a little bit more luck if you spent less time reorganizing shit that doesn’t need reorganizing and more time trying to find Eddie,” Dustin chimed in.

“Hey, someone’s gotta make sure things are in order here. Do you see how many fucking movies we have? It can be overwhelming for the average customer,” Steve tried to defend himself.

Suddenly an idea popped into your head, as you darted over to the computer, typing away into the system. “What are you doing?” Max asked.

“Maybe we don’t need a last name,” you started as you pressed enter on the keyboard. “Twelve Ricks already have accounts here…now it’s just a matter of narrowing it down.”

***

After determining the Rick most likely to be the Reefer Rick, you waited until it got dark to go scope the place out. You decided that you’d be more inconspicuous at night, not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves while you tracked down a potential murder suspect.

You were all piled in Steve’s BMW as he pulled into the driveway of one Rick Lipton. You felt nerves settle in your stomach as you tried to take a deep breath, Dustin quickly getting out of the car and ringing the doorbell. No one answered and after Dustin pressed the button repeatedly, Steve put a hand on his shoulder to pull him away from the door.

“Okay. Well, that’s settled, I guess he’s not here,” Steve spoke up. This did nothing to stop Dustin from continuing to pound on the door, yelling for the boy to answer. So much for being inconspicuous, you thought as you walked around the side of the house. Your hands trembled a bit, being a tad anxious about being out here at night, when your flashlight finally caught sight of a boathouse on the lake.

“Hey guys?” You called out. Steve was quick to join you, followed by the rest of the gang as you cautiously approached the metal lined shed. There was no real signs of life in there as you entered, and it seemed just as abandoned as Rick’s house. “Hello? Is anyone home?” You shouted into the darkness as you took a hesitant step inside.

“What a dump,” Steve muttered, taking in the sight of all of the clutter. In his mind, there was no way in hell that Eddie was here, so though he was taking all of this seriously, he wasn’t too committed to really inspecting the place with great detail.

You grabbed an oar off of the wall, walking over to the small boat docked in the center of the room as you shoved at the tarps with it, not wanting to get close just in case something was awry.

“What are you doing?!” Dustin whisper-shouted at you, perplexed by your actions.

“He might be in there,” you answered simply.

“Then take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off!” You whisper-shouted back at him, though when Dustin moved forward to do just that, you and Steve both yanked him back by his shoulders. You continued to poke at the tarp, and Steve placed a gentle but nervous hand on the small of your back, not wanting to stray too far from you.

Max suddenly spoke up from across the room, pointing her flashlight at some odds and ends on a small table. “Hey, guys. Someone was here.”

“Maybe he heard us? Got spooked and ran?” Robin suggested, joining Robin to inspect the items before her.

“Don’t worry. Y/n will get him with her oar…isn’t that right y/n?” Dustin spoke to you sarcastically. You were glad you had the self control to not swing it at the infuriating child beside you as Steve moved away from you to pull Dustin aside. He didn’t need the two of you arguing with each other. You two bickered like siblings and now wasn’t the time for a pseudo-familial spat.

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson,” you started, continuing to jab at the tarps, “but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight—“

Your words were cut off as a figure under the tarp sprung to life, grabbing you around the shoulders and pushing you against the wall. You heard the familiar flick of a pocket knife, feeling the sharp tip of the metal press against your throat. The boathouse erupted into a chorus of shrieks and screams, as you leaned your head back, unable to breathe as you stared wide-eyed at the boy you were tutoring for physics.

“Woah, woah, woah! Eddie! Eddie, stop!” Dustin shouted. He took a step closer and Eddie pushed you back farther into the wall, letting you all know that he wasn’t playing games. Steve felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. To Steve, Eddie’s actions confirmed that he was dangerous, that he had likely killed Chrissy, and that he was about to do the same thing to you. Steve’s mind was working double time trying to figure out how to get you away from the freak, as he started to take a huge step towards you when Robin roughly grabbed his arm, preventing him from getting any closer.

“Robin let go of me!” He shouted at her, trying to shake out of her grip.

“Steve,” she warned, and the way that she said it made him stop to reevaluate the situation, realizing the closer he got to you, the more he was putting your life in peril. A small cry escaped your lips as you tried to blink back tears, and Steve’s heart sank in his chest. He felt his hands trembling at his sides, wanting nothing more than to hold you and to tell you that everything was going to be okay, but watching as the knife threatened to break the skin of your neck, he wasn’t so sure he even believed the sentiment.

“It’s me, Dustin. This is y/n,” Dustin continued, gesturing to you, “she’s not going to hurt you, right, y/n?”

“Right, yeah,” you barely were able to whisper, the muscles in your neck all tensed as you tried to get as far away from the knife as possible. Your chest heaved as you swallowed and breathed out a shaky breath.

“Y/n, why don’t you drop the oar,” Dustin cautioned. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it, barely even being able to feel the white knuckled grip you had on the handle. You willed your fingers to let go and as the oar crashed to the floor, the sudden sound caused Eddie to jump, leaning in farther and nicking your neck a bit in the process. You yelped in pain, and Steve started to freak out, unable to control his breathing. Robin continued to try and calm him down, but it wasn’t working super well.

“She’s cool, she’s cool!” Dustin reminded Eddie, still trying to talk him off of a cliff. Steve wished he had trusted his intuition earlier and kept you all far away from Eddie the freak Munson.

“I’m cool, man, I’m cool,” you spoke up, your voice shaky, “I’m helping you in Ms. O’Donell’s class, remember?”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, his eyes wild as he refused to let you go.

“We’re looking for you, we’re here to help,” Dustin spoke up, “Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max, the one who never wants to play D&D. And obviously that’s Steve; I know you know him because you hate him, okay? Eddie, we are on your side. I swear on my mother, right guys?” He looked to the three of your friends behind him who all desperately nodded in agreement.

“Yes, yes, we swear!” Robin agree.

“Yeah, on Dustin’s mother,” you squeaked out. Eddie looked at you and you could tell he was acting out of fear. You knew this wasn’t him. That still didn’t quell the fear in your own chest as you spoke up once more to whisper, “please.”

Eddie paused, his eyes searching yours to try and determine your intention. He knew that you were a good person. Hell, you’d been helping him through fucking physics which wasn’t exactly a cake walk. Seeing the terror across your face as you whimpered, however, was what finally broke Eddie, as he finally let you go.

You let out a small cry as the tears you had been attempting to blink back finally spilled down your face while you crumpled to the floor. Steve rushed to your side, sitting on the floor with you, not unlike he had earlier in Family Video when the news came on. Your hand clutched at your neck. Even though Eddie had only just slightly nicked you, your blood had dripped enough to stain the collar of your shirt, and began to seep through your fingers as you held pressure to the cut. It stung like a bitch, but you were more scared than hurt.

“Hey, hey, hey, let me see, okay baby? Can you do that for me?” Steve asked softly, as one of his hands wrapped around the nape of your neck and the other gently tugged on your wrist. You obliged, trembling fingers dropping from your neck as you shook in Steve’s arms.

He used the sleeve of his jacket to put pressure on the cut to attempt to get it to stop bleeding. You took several deep breaths, wiping the tears away from your face as you began to finally calm down. It helped that you knew that Eddie wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. In your mind, he wasn’t a threat in the slightest, just a boy that was scared and needed some comforting.

“Eddie, we just want to talk,” you heard Dustin’s voice ring out in the empty boathouse. Eddie looked like a mess as he sat in a heap on the floor, looking equal parts defeated and terrified. Dustin tried to take the knife away from him, but Eddie tightened his grip so Dustin relented.

“We just want to know what happened,” you breathed out, your voice still shaky as you continued to calm down.

“You won’t believe me,” Eddie sniffled. You moved out of Steve’s grasp despite his protests, putting a gentle hand on Eddie’s shoulder. He tensed up but soon relaxed into your touch.

“Try us,” you replied. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the look on your face or the sincerity in your voice, but he decided in that moment that he could trust you guys.

He began by explaining that she was at his house so that he could sell to her, discussing how everything had been fine and normal…until it very much wasn’t.

“…her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh…and she just, like, hung there. And her bones…uh, she…her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man…it-it was like there was something inside her head pulling,” he whimpered with a faraway look in his eyes, “I…I-I didn’t know what to do, so I…I ran away…I-I left her there,” he scoffed, “you all think I’m crazy, right?”

“No, we don’t think you’re crazy,” Dustin began to assure him, but Eddie quickly cut him off.

“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!”

You moved in between Eddie and Dustin, pushing Dusting behind you protectively. “Hey, we’re not bullshitting you,” you started, your tone leaning on frustrated, “we believe you and we’re probably the only people who fucking will, so I would suggest you find a way to calm down and shut the fuck up because what I’m about to tell you might be difficult to take.”

“Okay,” Eddie finally said. No one was really expecting you to be that blunt about things, but it needed to be said.

“You know how people say Hawkins is…cursed?” You started, trying to find the right words. Eddie nodded. “They’re not…way off. There’s another world; a world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours,” your hand subconsciously went to the cut on your neck, the bleeding having finally trickled to a stop.

“Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked hesitantly.

“There are some things worse than ghosts,” Max spoke up quietly, and you felt a chill creep up your spine as she said it.

“These monsters from this other world,” Dustin continued, “we thought that they were gone, but they’ve come back before and that’s why we needed to find you.”

“If they’re back again, we need to know,” you emphasized.

“That night, did you see anything?” Robin questioned. You all waited with bated breath for Eddie’s answer. You were afraid of what he might say and Steve stepped forward and grabbed your hand, sensing your anxiety.

“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh…touch,” Eddie responded, “you know, I tried to wake her man, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was…she was in a trance or something.”

“Or under a spell…Vecna’s curse,” Dustin whispered.

“Who’s Vecna?” Steve asked, pulling you into his chest. He needed something to hold onto.

“An undead creature of great power,” Dustin answered and you shuddered thinking about it. You had thought you got rid of whatever entity was calling the shots from the Upside Down, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe everything that had happened before was merely the beginning.

***

You all had taken turns recounting the last two years worth of events to Eddie as he sat there in silence trying to take it all in. After everything that he had seen, he really had no choice but to believe you guys, glad that you were all on his side. You promised the boy that you would be back with supplies in the morning, swiftly piling back into Steve’s car.

“Hey, you know when we had that really sweet convertible and I had you drive it up that big ass hill so we could use my radio?” Dustin suddenly spoke up.

“Yeah?” Steve responded, not quite sure where the boy was going with this.

“Well, bad news is we’re gonna need to go use it again before we all go home because I have an idea, but good news is that it’s at my house now so that’s cool.”

Steve sighed and you all silently made your way to Dustin’s house. There wasn’t much to talk about. You tiptoed through his kitchen to avoid waking his mother as you all crept up to his bedroom. He started messing with all his radio equipment as you sat on his bed. While he was searching for the right frequency, Steve darted out of the bedroom and into the hall bathroom, opening the cabinet under the sink and rifling through it. He found what he was looking for and quietly slipped back into Dustin’s bedroom.

“Here,” he said as he sat down next to you. You looked at him confused until you saw that he had a first aid kit in his hands. He took out an alcohol wipe and started cleaning up the dried blood on your neck. You hissed when the wipe touched your cut, the alcohol burning as he disinfected it. He put some antibiotic ointment on a band aid and placed it gingerly over the cut. He noticed some of the hickies he had left on your neck the night before, quickly moving your hair to make them more inconspicuous. “There. All better.”

You couldn’t help but flush with how sweet Steve was being. Even if the world was undoubtedly ending, at least you knew that he was going to be there for you. You could tell that he was on edge, probably more so given how Eddie had reacted, and you just appreciated that he wasn’t overreacting…yet.

Suddenly, Dustin’s Cerebro came to life, and you heard the distinctive sound of police chatter over the radio as you were clued into what the Hawkins police department knew of Eddie’s involvement in Chrissy’s death. Unfortunately, though not released to the public yet, Eddie was prime suspect number one.

“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed. “Fuck!”

“Woah, woah, whoa, calm down Dustin. We’re gonna figure all of this out okay? Freaking out isn’t going to make any of this shit easier, so we might as well all stay calm,” your voice was remarkably even as you said it and it was starting to freak the rest of your friends out. Of everyone here, you should by all accounts be the most freaked out.

“Look, I don’t think that we should split up, given everything that’s going on,” Steve spoke. “My parents aren’t home, so how about everyone spends the night at my house? You can all call your parents and make arrangements when we get there.”

Everyone agreed with Steve, and you all made your way out to his car, Dustin leaving a note to let his mom know he would be gone before he left. “Y/n? Are you, like, okay?” Max asked hesitantly. Your mind flashed back to what it felt like to have a knife held up to your throat.

“I’m fine, Max. I promise,” you said, but it didn’t sound very convincing. You were honestly more worried about the kids. You thought about the fact that they were deprived a normal childhood, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. You were the babysitter, you were supposed to be the one to make sure that they were okay and safe and happy.

Steve finally pulled into his driveway, leading everyone inside and showing them around. “You all can sleep wherever. There’s a guest bedroom upstairs or you could sleep in the family room. I don’t care,” he sighed, just ready to go to sleep. Everyone got comfortable, Max and Robin choosing to sleep on the couches and Dustin taking the guest bedroom. You and Steve went to his room and you collapsed onto his bed.

“This can’t be happening again,” you spoke up as exhaustion from the day’s events settled in your bones.

“Yeah, I can’t quite believe it either,” Steve said, flopping down on the bed next to you. “Y/n, you have to promise me something okay?”

“What?”

“That if this all gets to be too much again, we call it quits. We get the kids out, we get Robin out, we get the hell out.”

“Steve,” you looked at him, trying to read his expression, “I can’t make that promise.”

“Y/n, everything has been escalating. First it was just one demogorgon, then it was a fuck ton of demo-dogs, then it was Russians and a giant flesh monster…I don’t know how we can handle anything worse, I mean we barely handled everything last summer!” He exclaimed, shaking his head at you. You could tell he was getting more irate, anger seeping into his tone.

“Steve, we either do nothing and die when the whole fucking world ends, or we do something and maybe die trying, or better yet, we fix the fucking problem and never have to worry about it again,” you replied, sitting up, slightly irritated with his tone. He stood up, looking down at you with a furrowed brow as he continued.

“You’re not understanding, y/n. Look, someone died. Unexplainably, just up and died in the most gruesome fucking way. We don’t know anything about how it happened or why or if it will happen again, and I’ll be damned if it happens to one of us, okay. Just promise me.”

“Steve, I can’t, and you know I can’t.”

Steve scoffed, trying to find the right words. He felt anxiety creep up in his chest as he decided that now was as good a time as any to get really fucking real with you. “Y/n. I want a future with you. We can’t fucking have that if one of us is dead.”

“We can’t have a future if the world fucking ends either. I have a massive fucking headache and I just want to go to bed, okay?” You got up and began changing into pajamas, and you heard Steve sigh behind you. He remembered his pinky promise to you in the woods that you were in this together. If you couldn’t make a promise to him, the best he could do was uphold his.

“Fine. But I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if something happens to you,” he warned as he crawled into bed, scooting towards you to spoon you. It was odd how casually you two could have a conversation like this, about the end of the world and the possibility of losing each other at any given moment.

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you replied, turning in his arms and placing a kiss to his chest. You willed the words to be true as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

***

Dustin threw the door open to the boathouse and you rolled your eyes, knowing it would likely scare the shit out of Eddie. You seemed to be right as you heard him shout from across the room, finally making it into the shed to see him pressed up against the back wall, knife extended out in front of him.

“Delivery service,” Dustin smiled at his friend. You waved sheepishly at Eddie, hoping that he could find it in his heart to forgive you guys for nearly giving him a heart attack…twice.

You all moved to stand around the boat as Eddie sat down in it, tearing into a box of cereal and eating it as if he hadn’t had a meal in days…which to be fair he probably hadn’t.

“So we have some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?” Dustin cut to the chase.

“Bad news first, always,” Eddie spoke through a mouthful of food. Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you scanned the room, noticing similar expressions painted on Robin and Max’s faces.

“We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with Dustin’s Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you,” you quickly spoke up as you gave the boy a sympathetic look.

“Also, they’re uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy,” Dustin chimed in.

“Like, 100% kind of convinced,” Max agreed. You rolled your eyes. So much for breaking the news softly.

“And the good news?”

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do too, and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother will be gunning for you,” Robin spoke up.

“Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie clarified, his eyes staring off, unfocused.

“Exactly,” Robin breathed out.

“So before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence,” Dustin outlined.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie fumed. Sure he loved the Henderson kid, but the boy got on his damn nerves like all the time, and this was one of those moments.

“Believe it or not, we’ve been through this kind of thing before…a few times actually,” you reassured Eddie, hoping that your words would calm his nerves but that was definitely a bit of a stretch.

“You’re telling me that you, Ms. 4.0, have been off fighting monsters while maintaining a perfect GPA?” Eddie asked in disbelief. “Bullshit.”

“I know, it’s pretty impressive,” Steve spoke up, throwing an arm around you, “we usually rely on this girl with super powers but, uh, those went bye-bye.”

“So we’re kind of in more of the brainstorming phase,” Robin spoke up and you all nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, you really have nothing to worry about,” Dustin reassured Eddie, but all of you knew that that was far from the truth. There was definitely a shit ton of stuff to worry about. Before Eddie could ask anymore questions, you all heard sirens wailing in the distance. He quickly covered up with the tarp as you all ran to the window, watching as several emergency vehicles passed right by Reefer Rick’s house.

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you concluded that there must be another body. You all raced to Steve’s car again, following the waling sound of sirens, afraid of what you’d find.

***

a/n: thanks for reading people of tumblr! If you wanted to reblog, I promise I wouldn’t be mad ;)

taglist:

@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers

[dramioneasks]

Christmas Fics 2023 (Part 8):

Keep It Like a Secret by PacificRimbaud - M, one-shot - He regards her with interest, cool as the ice in his G&T. “What do you want?” On close inspection, he's a bit deadly. It's the combined power of self-regard, an open ear, and a cunningly tailored suit. Hermione wants— “An expiration date would be nice.” She suctions up the watery dregs and signals for more. “Let’s say I want . . . a year. Exactly one year of monogamy without the possibility of further commitment."

When Love is Found by Biirdiee_Rose - T, one-shot - “You’ve read Charles Dickens— yes?” “Yes, I read Great Expectations when I started exploring muggle literature.” “Well, he wrote a book called A Christmas Carol.” She bends down to grab a few gifts from beneath the Christmas tree. “Ah, so we’re from the book then—” “Sort of,” She interrupts, “Then they made a movie of it with these little puppets called The Muppets, and it was my favorite.” - Hermione and Draco go to a muggle Christmas party with the theme to dress up from a favorite Christmas movie. Hijinks ensue.

Mutual, I'm Sure by LadyUrsa - E, WIP - If Draco Malfoy could have one wish in his life, it would be to not be a Veela. Wait, no. It would be to not have Hermione Granger be his mate. Fuck, at this point he would settle for Hermione Granger just being aware of the painfully obvious fact that she was his mate. But only as long as it resulted in monogamous bliss. And getting a cat. ** Two meddlesome best friends, two idiots who are bad at feelings, and a snow-filled Christmas reunion in Vermont. The only thing this White Christmas is missing are some musical numbers.

Cookies, Spice and Other Mushy Non-Practical Stuff by Trombones - G, one-shot - A very short Christmas Dramione one shot. Featuring your favourite Harry Potter snow man, a haughty but caring Draco and a Hermione that can't help but be won over by his charms.

The Well-Traveled Sage by MarinaJune - M, one-shot - Bookseller Hermione Granger, some shop holiday decor, and Draco Malfoy in need of a last-minute holiday gift.

An Ode To Falling In Love by Ada_P_Rix - M, one-shot - He gave her a lopsided grin then, his hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at her. "I think you're drunk." He observed her after a few moments, his eyes glassy as she rolled hers up at him. "And I think you'll regret the hangover in the morning." Hermione gave him a look that had him raising his eyebrows at her. "Amongst other things." "Well you know what they say, Granger-" Malfoy stumbled slightly, causing her to cling to his arm and pull him further against the side of her body as they walked along to the apparition point. "The truth always comes out when you're shitfaced," another grin from him had her shaking her head; Hermione had never witnessed him being this intoxicated before. "All kinds of nasty little secrets end up spilling out with the alcohol-induced vomit."

Santa Baby by Biirdiee_Rose - E, one-shot - “Now, if I were to say yes to this whole…thing, what do I get out of it?” She asks hesitantly, hating the way he perked up immediately. “My, my, Granger— how Slytherin of you.” She narrows her eyes and he relents, surely very aware he did not have the upper hand in the situation. “You’ve been shot down for funding time and time again for that very generous Wolfsbane project–” Now it was her turn to perk up, spine straightening as she leans over the desk, hands clasping as her brain puts together what he’s offering her. “If you agree to this, agree to being my girlfriend until at least after Christmas, then I will fully fund your Wolfsbane project for the next two years.” - Draco Malfoy needs a favor, and Hermione Granger seems to be the only witch around to fit the bill. Attempting to get out of yet another marriage contract, Draco tells his mother he’s dating the one and only Hermione Granger. One little issue, they’re not actually dating. With a good old fashioned bribe of funding the Wolfsbane Project she’s been trying to start for years, Hermione reluctantly agrees. No need to worry dear readers, it’s not like they’d develop feelings for each other or anything… Right?

The Christmas Party by arielle_reads - M, one-shot - Robards hosts a Christmas party for the Ministry but his gift-giving plan goes awry when everything gets swapped. Firewhiskey shots are introduced and Draco worries someone else will get the present he chose for Hermione.

Magical Merry Mistletoe by greyditto - T, one-shot - What happens when pureblood tradition, a Yule party, and a Secret Santa gift exchange all take place in the same event? Naturally, Draco's nearest and dearest conspire to get him what he always wanted...

Icy Truce, Warm Hearts by Serpent_Sortia - E, one-shot - The war has been raging for years but things are starting to go the Order's way thanks to the information provided by a spy high amongst Voldemort's ranks. Hermione is called out to meet the mysterious informant on a snowy Christmas Eve so he can deliver important news... until their meeting spot is compromised.

Messing with Christmas and How to Fix it by Astrangefan - not rated, one-shot - Hermione has been homesick for a home she no longer has. She finds some old decorations at Grimmauld and brings them back to Hogwarts. Draco likes what she's done, but says it in a way only Draco Malfoy can say and everything goes wrong. Now he has to come up with a grand gesture to apologise.

The Holiday by LunaLunaria - E, one-shot - A remix of The Holiday (2006) featuring cinnamon roll with hidden depths Neville Longbottom, chaotic manic pixie Pansy Parkinson, hyper-productive, seduce-me-with-your-brain Hermione Granger, and literary bachelor with a side of snark and sentiment Draco Malfoy.

Wolfsbane and Mistletoe by yes_a_witch - E, WIP - Seven years after her 8th year at Hogwarts, Hermione is feeling lonely. Ron and Harry are both happy with their new families, and her work is meaningful yet taxing. Though she has branched out and made new friends since school, none provide that sense of community she’s been missing. When Malfoy invites her for Christmas with the Slytherins everything changes in ways she never expected.

‘Twas The Night For Traditions (Some Old, Some New) by megiswritingsomething - M, one-shot - Christmas Eve traditions were sacred for Hermione, Draco, and Scorpius - such a shame Draco is nowhere to be found as the night drawls to a close… OR The one where Hermione reads ‘‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ to Scorpius while reminiscing about their Yuletide traditions. Meanwhile Draco is MIA on urgent Christmas-related business.

[badscientist]

Writeblr Interview Tag

tagged by @sableglass. thanks! im breakin out the proper syntax for this one.

Short stories, novels, or poems?

No idea. I haven't explored writing enough to know what I prefer. As a teen, I wrote a lot of poetry due to the affliction of Being A Teenager and drug-related conflict between my parents. Then as I got older, I wrote mostly scenes for bigger ideas. Dead Meat just happened to turn from a dream into a planned three-parter with six total characters (Betsy, Sanderson, Clive, Ankhanum, Betsy's mom, Eleanor), but as you can see, that didn't quite work out.

What genre do you prefer reading?

Overwhelmingly horror. A sprinkling of fantasy here and there. More recently I've been into non-fiction. I have a few exceptions to my I Don't Read Fanfiction clause as well.

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person?

The first five or so parts of Dead Meat were written by the seat of my pants. I did eventually sit down and outline the remainder of it. Even now, the final part isn't even fully drafted, but it'll get there.

What music do you listen to while writing?

Instrumentals. Videogame soundtracks are great for this. Big fan of writing to Silent Hill music.

Favorite books/movies?

For films, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The Iron Giant, The Thing. …I absolutely love more movies than this, I swear, my brain just feels like fudge right now and unless I have a convenient list of my favorite things to refer to, I can't recall them. Same thing applies to books. I was a big Stephen King fan back in the day, less so as I've gotten older, but I don't think I'll ever be able to rid myself of the brainworms The Langoliers, The Dark Half, Tommyknockers and Firestarter gave me. I read them at formative times in my life and they'll always be nostalgic for that reason.

Any current WIPs?

Dead Meat. I have some other ideas I'd like to get to, but right now I'm trying to focus on that.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be?

I depict 'OC Jacquin' in sweaters and coats a lot but the reality is I'm usually in a polo shirt or button-up and slacks, or boxers and tank tops. But those aren't as stylish and I have to look superficially cultured. (He also has long hair! My hair's very short IRL.)

Create a character description of yourself:

…Gonzo from The Muppets.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing?

You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who doesn't at least subconsciously write and incorporate traits people they know or have met or have seen into their work. So the answer's yes. Though the funniest example is my QPP Cinna, because they're a main character of a project to come.

Are you kill happy with your characters?

No. I get too attached. And then I'd feel sad about killing a person that isn't real. (Sweeps Ankhanum's murderous tendencies under a rug.) Don't look at that.

Coffee or Tea while writing?

Water. I usually only drink coffee and tea when I first wake up.

Slow or fast writer?

Varies. Depends on how my brain's doing on a particular day. Feels like it's being cooked like an egg or in molasses and then it's slow going.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from?

It all boils down to a love of horror and biology. I like two things. Don't look at me.

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Ideally, Ankhanum. He's the coolest thing TO be in my work. But realistically, I'm just Jacquin. While he's a flavor of Ankhanum, he's also just some Guy (butch) with a body horror gimmick.

Most fav book cliche & least favorite cliche:

Combining these two because I really just do not read enough books to know. I'll give anything earnest a shake, even if it's not something I'm normally into.

Favorite scene to write?

They're tricky, but I get a thrill writing fight scenes. I'll actually paste a bit of the one I had the most fun with early on:

Suddenly, Betsy was in total darkness. She stopped in place and hung her head, trying to reorient herself. The generator didn't kick back on. She pulled the flashlight free from her belt. Though it'd make her a beacon in the night, its weight in her hand was a comfort.

Betsy reached the mudroom.

There. The door to the yard.

She ran for it. It burst open from outside the moment she put her hands on it, shoving her backwards. The weight of her bag was too much; she pinwheeled her arms and fell back onto it. The flashlight dropped from her hand, striking the ground. Betsy scrambled to get back up, grabbing for the light. Something lashed and knocked it further away. She was struck and knocked forward. She twisted herself around and rolled over to the flashlight.

Sanderson's pupil shrank as she shined the light on him. He stood between her and the way out, tail whipping behind him. His nostrils were flaring, not taking his eye off her.

"Doc. Get out of my way," she said.

Reason for writing?

Sanderson lunged. Betsy swung her flashlight at what was left of his head. His jaw grew, splitting open, catching the flashlight in his teeth. A few of them cracked from the force of him locking onto it. Chatting was officially off the table. Betsy strained against him. He growled around the light. She slammed her other arm up against his throat, pushing him back. The mouth on his stomach snapped at her.

There is a wall between myself and others that has always existed and this is a Manifestation of Othering the Neurodivergent (a mean kid is better at diagnosing mental illness than a psychiatrist, and even though this was 20-30 years ago, it Sticks), so writing is. A ladder. I can at least sit on my wall and wave to people.

[w3mb13r]

here is my list of stuff that happened in 2023 so far (some good, most bad)

- zombie drug that rots people’s skin and brains

- trump released a song

- tennessee criminalized crossdressing

- tennessee decriminalized crossdressing

- willow project

- marjorie taylor greene wants a national divorce and says democrats are “genociding” republicans

- fraggle rock made nfts

- wienermobile’s catalytic converter got stolen

- PETA offered to replace catalytic converter only if oscar mayer only sells vegan hotdogs from now on

- teen moms making their babies vape

- woman falsely claiming to be madeleine mccann

- felix cipher claiming to be hitler (HE IS GAY AND HAS A JEWISH MOM), getting kicked out of art school (a second time??), made his ex touch his “bullet wound” 😭😭

- walgreens refusing to sell abortion pills in over 20 states

- arresting women who miscarry

- january 6th offenders let out of prison

- chinese spy balloons flying over north america

- all the kanye stuff idfk

- some guy survived 31 days in the amazon rainforest just by eating worms

- trump arrested

- hasbro had pinkertons raid a youtuber’s home because THEY accidentally sent him a copy of magic the gathering cards too early

- trans healthcare being banned across multiple states

- muppets mayhem :)

- disney sues desantis for “don’t say gay” law — disney may move out of florida

- elon musk has an alt twitter account in which he role plays as his 2 year old son and comments stuff like “do you like japanese girls?” and “i wish i was old enough to go to nightclubs.”

- colleen video

- coke in the white house

- businesses can legally discriminate against gay people

- trump doxxed obama 💀💀

- trump moaning during speech?? 😭😭

- oceangate

- elon musk vs. mark zuckerberg (cage match/twitter fight/literal dick measuring contest??)

- grimace shake

- barbie movie

- across the spiderverse

it is july 10th. what the actual fuck ⁉️⁉️

[gothicwidowsworld]

Don’t fuck it you muppet L.N

“I’m scared…” the man admitted, ashamed, his declaration lacked his usual cocky confidence but it was pure honesty. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck up.” The man spoke again, still uncertain but gaining courage. 

“Your Uncle Carlos told me to not fuck it up…. “Don’t fuck it you muppet.”” Lando laughed quietly at his awful attempt at the Spaniards accent, “Although I probably shouldn’t use that sort of language around you. Your Mummy would have my head.” Lando added teasingly, his denby azure eyes settling on the woman in question. Even after all these years just looking at Y/N made his heart flutter. She was wearing an extremely old Carlin team t-shirt, she looked so natural and at ease. A Goddess among mortals honestly. Even now he didn’t understand how he got so lucky with her, they’d met in the Karting World years before, back when Y/N towered over Lando and regularly showed the Tanned Brit what losing felt like. She’d been loud and mouthy in a lovable sort of way, even giving Oliver a run for his money at times. 

The soft chatter stopped abruptly as the y/h/c young woman shuffled & shifted, the mid January sunbeams that had managed to break its way through the cracks in the curtains trying to desperately ease the woman out of her much needed slumber. “Norris close the curtains.” the y/h/c woman mumbled gently, snuggling deeper into the pillow, swatting at the man’s usual position beside her, blindly hoping the driver heard her and took pity on her utterly shattered body. The rough start to motherhood was still taking its toll on Y/N, despite the long nights the young couple had spent pouring over parenting advice books, the parenting courses, the inner circle of family support the y/h/c young woman was still wiped out. 

The golden rays of sun refused to let y/n return to slumber. Perhaps a subtle message to not miss out on this small moment, fighting the urge to close her eyes Y/N turned to face the man. But instead her y/e/c orbs focused in on a sight that she’d only been able to dream of in the past couple of months, it felt like she’d waited a lifetime to witness this moment and it was just a random Tuesday morning. Lando resting against the headboard, donning mismatching socks and joggers, tanned chest on full display cradling the small life they’d managed to create. In that moment the failed five year plan, horrendous morning sickness, 17 hour labour and general pregnancy blues seemed so worth it. “Morning.” Lando whispered a reddish blush filling his cheeks at the prospect of being caught singing the anthem to his anxieties aloud. But even then the Brit couldn’t help small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a content dopey grin. Slowly Lando raised the hand that wasn’t holding newborn close, reaching out to brush the strand of y/h/c hair that had managed to escape from Y/N’s now messy ponytail out of her face. 

“Did I miss her crying?” The y/h/c woman asked concern lacing her tired voice, trying to sit up despite the lingering post-labour pain. Shaking his head Lando replied reassuringly, his voice soft and low trying not to disturb the sleeping new born, “No no I was just up early.” 

‘How are you feeling?’ Y/N could hear the apprehensive concern partnered with his words, Lando had watched all night, an undeniable sense of guilt hitting him each time Y/N winced in her sleep, the y/s/c woman still unable to find any comfort. There wasn’t much the Driver could do, but that didn’t ease the guilt that he had caused Y/N this pain. 

“Honestly I’ve been better.” Y/N admitted bashfully. In fact Y/N was sure she could have been hit by a lorry and still felt more refreshed than she did right now. But watching a domestic new dad Lando made it more bearable. The pain and postpartum bleeding was temporary but her growing little family with Lando was forever. 

A/N it’s shit, I know it’s shit but this idea has been bugging my brain for the past few days and i’m like super sick so this is written half delirious, on pain medication whilst binge listening to The 1975... so yeah

[captainlunaxmen]

The Lady and the Lord

Chapter 2

Eddie munson x fem!reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

Chapter summary: they have one mission: find Eddie.

Chapter warnings: spoiler season 4, violence description.

"And then Vicki laughed. And it wasn't like a cheap, fake laugh either. It was like... it was a real genuine laugh." Robin tells us as Steve put some vhs on the shelfs and I hold some to help them. I don't work here, but I like to help instead of sitting at home doing nothing.

"Of course. It's my Muppet joke. It's hilarious" Steve says very proudly, and I roll my eyes.

"My point is that Vicki laughed and everything was just like...it was perfect" she keeps going with a dreamy voice.

She's so cute.

"But?" I ask, knowing something's up.

"But I'm having this problem where it's like, I should stop talking." She explains "I have said everything I need to say.but then I guess I get nervous and the words keep spilling out, and it's like my.. my brain is moving faster than my mouth, or rather my.. my mouth is moving faster than my brain. And it's like I'm digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging, I'm trying to stop, but I can't. And I'm doing it right now, aren't I?"

She finally turns around to look at us after her babbling.

"Yeah, you are" Steve says and I nod with a half smile.

She exhales deeply and move backwards to rest against the wall.

"I'm hopeless" she says.

Steve follows her against the wall. "We both are"

I roll my eyes at their pessimism.

"If only we could just, like, combine." Robin suddenly says, I look at her confused.

"Combine?" Steve's confused too.

"No. Think about it. I know exactly what I want, and I've found the girl of my dreams, but I can't get the courage to ask her out. Meanwhile, you go on, like, a million dates, and you have no idea what you want. So if we just combine, all our problems would be solved."

Steve lets out an understanding "Oohh"

"Because, I mean, alone let's face it..."

"We totally suck." Steve finishes for her.

"Totally and utterly"

"C'mon, you guys are the most amazing persons that I know... just have hope" I look at Steve "and some courage" I look at Robin "and everything will be fine"

"Oh yeah?" Steve sends me a very sceptical look.

"Ooh, I think I found our morning movie" Robin gasps, running to a shelf and grabbing a vhs. "Doctor Zhivago"

"Ugh, you know I don't do double vhs" Steve groans shaking his hands in the air.

"But it's about doomed love" she tries.

"That's relatable" Steve agrees, and we both follow Robing behind the counter.

"Exactly. Also Julie Christie is b-b-bonkers hot in this. Like seriously the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life" she turn the TV on.

"I gotta agree on that" I declare.

"We're in the Forest Hills trailer park on East Roane County." The reporter's voice says loud and clear "we don't have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body kd a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not released the name although we are told they're currently in the process of notifying the family"

Oh shit.. as if alternate dimensions creature's weren't enough.

"Holy shit" Steve whispers beside me.

"Who could that be?" I ask worried.

"I don't know.." Robin replies.

"Isn't it where Max lives?" I ask again looking at them.

They just nods.

Oh shit.

We spent the morning watching the news and organising the store to keep ourselves busy.

All of a sudden the door bell rings and Dustin and Max come in.

"Hey Steve" he says, he looks visibly agitated.

"You guys see this?" Steve asks them.

"How many phones do you have?" Dustin asks, completely ignoring Steve's question.

Robin and I share a confused look

"Someone was murdered"

"How many phones fo you have?" He repeats more firmly.

"Two. Why?" He answers

"Technically three if you count Keith's in the back" Robins specifies.

Max and Dustin look at each other.

"Yeah, thee works" Max says.

So Dustin take off his backpack as Steve asks "what are you doing?" And, again, ignoring his question Dustin throw the backpack on the other side of the counter and climbs on top of it to get through.

All this while earning very annoyed reactions from both Robin and Steve.

Ignoring both of them Dustin positions himself in fron of the computer.

"What are you doing?" Steve asks.

"Setting up base of operation here." He simply answers.

"Base of operation?" I ask. "Why?"

Steve tries to get Dustin off of the computer, but with no use.

"What do you need it for? Dustin?" I ask, getting more and more confused.

"Eddie's friends' phone numbers" he answers and I look at Steve.

"Oh Eddie, your new best friend who just is cooler because he plays your nerdy game?" Steve asks, sounding quite jealous, I gotta say.

"I never said that" Dustin defends himself from Steve's accusatory tone.

"Seriously, you guys, maybe know a Monday you can play around like toddlers, but it's Saturday. It's our busiest day" Robin tells them, putting the tapes back on the counter.

"Robin, look, I empathise, but this cannot wait until Monday" Dustin firmly says.

"Calling Eddie's friends is an emergency?" She asks back.

"Correct" Dustin shouts, like that was the most obvious thing.

"Why? What happened?" I ask, now getting more worried. "Did something happen to Eddie?... Dustin?"

"Can you just fill them in while I do this?" Dustin asks Max.

"Fill us in on what?" Robin is definitely annoyed.

We all look at Max waiting for her to explain what happened.

We found ourselves calling so many different numbers, trying to find a lead to where Eddie might've gone.

I type down the numbers while Robin, Max and Dustin call them, and Steve flirts with every girls he can, pretending he's just working.

"Hey, guys. I might have a lead" Max calls pur attention.

"Seriously?" Dustin turns to her, hopefully.

"Yeah, apparently, Eddie gets his drugs from come guy names Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there." She explains.

"That's promising" I comment.

"Where does this Reefer Rick live?" Robin asks.

"See that's the thing. No one knows. He's more of a.. a legend than someone that people actually know." Max explains.

"And.. what about a last name?" I ask.

"I don't know that either" She answers.

"Less promising" I shake my head.

"Bet the cops knows the last name" Steve intervenes.

We turn all to him.

"What?"

"Cops. I mean listen if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he's been busted at some point. Means he's in the system" he explains like he found the perfect solution to all our problems.

"The cops? Really, Steve? That's your suggestion?" Dustin asks incredulous.

"I mean, I just think they should be filled on on what we know, what's going on" he says simply.

"You think Eddie's guilty, don't you?" Dustin accuses.

"Whoa. I believe in innocent until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit." Steve defends himself " I just, you know, don't think that we can rule it out"

"That's precisely what we're trying to do here, Steve." Max says annoyed.

"And maybe we'd have a little bit more luck if you spent less time trying to find a girlfriend and more time trying to find Eddie"

"He' not wrong here, Stevie" I agree with Dustin.

"Oh well somebody has to attend to the customers" Steve says, again, to defend himself, and I roll my eyes scoffing.

"Especially if they're babes, right?" Robin teases with a wink.

"Hey, not fair, okay?" Steve points his finger st her "I attend to all customers equally, babes and non-babes alike. We've got a very big selection in here. It can be super overwhelming for people"

"Yeah it can be" Robin says, I can tell she thought something to actually help us so I quickly follow her to the computer.

"What are you doing?" Max asks.

"Maybe we don't need a last name" she answers.

She type on the keyboard, Rick's name and a list of Ricks appears on the screen.

"Twelve Ricks have accounts here" she tells us.

"That's a lots of Ricks" Max comments.

"You're a genius, Robin" I tell her.

"I know. Now, let's narrow it down, uh? Rick Alderman's latest rentals are Annie and Dumbo...what are the chances our drug dealer has a family?" She asks.

"Not likely"

"All right, Rick Conroy. Sixteen candles, Teen Wolf, Romancing the stone." She move to the next Rick.

"No"

"Okay, Rick Joiner, Mask, Footloose, and Grease"

"Nah"

"Rick Kimbrough. The Blue Lagoon, and Splash."

"Definitely no"

"Okay. Rick Lipton. Fast Times at Ridgermont High, Cheech & Chong's next movie. Cheech & Chong's nice dreams. Cheech & Chong' up in smoke."

"Bingo" Dustin chuckles.

"Lipton?"

"Spelled like the tea. 2131 Holland Road" Robin reads.

"That's out by Lovers Lake" Dustin says.

"Middle of nowhere" I comment.

"It's a perfect place to hide" Robin agrees.

That being said we all head out to Steve's car and to this Reefer Rick's house.

And hopefully to Eddie.

We all grab a torch each and get out of the car to walk to this Reefer Rick's house.

The lights are out, which could mean that no one's home or... Eddie's hiding.

Dustin repeatedly tries to ring the bell, but to no use.

"Okay. Well, that's settled. I guess he's not here." Steve says, trying to make Dustin stop.

But Dustin just start to shout for Eddie to come out and tries again with the door bell.

Me and Max move to the side of the house with our torch, seeing what looks like a boathouse. Maybe Eddie's in there.

"Hey guys!" Max calls.

"Well let's go" I say already walking towards the small building.

Robin is the first one to enter.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" She tries.

We all enter and start to look around.

"What a dump" Steve comments

The place is far from clean, there garbage everywhere and, as expected, a boat in the middle filled with something covered by a tarp.

I spot Steve grabbing an oar as a weapon and starts to poke the boat multiple times.

"What are you doing?" Dustin asks.

Steve just doesn't answer so Dustin repeats the question, more shocked.

"He might be in here." Steve simply replies.

"So take the tarp off." Dustin tells him.

"If you're so brave, you take the tarp off" he basically challenges.

"Stop bickering, you two." I say.

Steve just keeps hitting on top of the tarp covered boat.

"Hey, look over here" Max tells us. She points our attention to some food envelopes.

"Someone was here." I try.

"Maybe he heard us. Got spooked and ran" Robin suggests.

"Don't worry. Steve will get him with his oar" Dustin says sarcastically.

"Oh I know you think you're being funny, Henderson, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don't find it funny in the slight-"

Steve is cut off by a loud scream and Eddie jumping from under the tarp and pushing him against the wall, a broken bottle in his hand.

We all gather as close as possible, trying to not scare him further for Eddie to react too badly.

"Whoa whoa whoa Eddie! Eddie! Stop!" Dustin says, holding his arms out to stop us from getting further closer.

Eddie turns to look at Dustin, not moving the broken glass away from Steve's neck yet.

"It's me. It's Dustin" Dustin tries to stay calm while getting Eddie's attention. "This is Steve. He's not going to hurt you, right, Steve?"

"Right, yeah" Steve agrees, quite agitated.

"Steve, c'mon.. drop the oar, will you?" I say, as calmly as possible.

Steve does as I say, dropping the oar away, but that just startles Eddie more pointing the glass back at Steve's neck.

"He's cool, he's cool" Dustin says.

"What are you doing here?" Eddie says, voice breaking.

"We're looking for you" Dustin replies

"We're here to help, Eddie" I add.

Eddie turns his head again to us, listening carefully.

"Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D. You know Y/n too. The quiet girl you always stare at, at lunch. Eddie. We're on your side. I swear on my mother. Right guys?"

"Yeah yeah we swear"

"Yeah on Dustin's mother"

"Yeah, Dustin's.. mother"

We say no more, tense as never before, but at the end Eddie lets Steve go and moves to the side sitting down.

Steve just come to us, I check his neck in case the broken bottle accidentally cut him but he's fine.

I turn to look at Eddie, Dustin kneels in front of him and I slowly follow.

He looks... terrified.

"Eddie...we just want to talk" Dustin very slowly tries to grab the bottle in Eddie's hand, but as soon as he gets to close he flinches grabbing the glass harder.

"Eddie... we just wanna know what happened. " I tell him.

"You won't believe me" he tells us.

"Try us" Max says.

Eddie told us everything that happened, about Chrissy coming to him to buy drugs, and how she died, right in front of him.

"Her body just lifted up into the air and.. and she just like, hung there. In the air. And her bones.. she.. her bones starter to snap"

He struggling to tell us what happened, all I want to do is grabbing his hand and reassure him...

"Her eyes, man" he continues "it was like.. there was something, inside her head, pulling. I.. I didn't know what to do so.. I.. I ran away. I left her there." He sounds so ashamed... he couldn't do anything for her.

Poor girl, she was really one of the sweetest person in Hawkins.

Fuck.

Eddie looks up to us, only to turn his head away quickly, scoffing.

"You all think I'm crazy right?"

"No. We don't think you're crazy" Dustin tries to reassure him.

"Don't bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds" Eddie snaps.

"We're not bullshiting you" Max intervenes.

"We believe you" Robin says and Eddie just scoffs, still not believing us.

"Look, what I'm about to tell you might be a little.. difficult to take." Dustin starts "you know how people say Hawkins is...cursed? They're not way off. There's another world.a words hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours." Dustin explains.

"Like ghosts and shit?" Eddie asks.

"There are... there are some things worst than ghosts" I tell him.

"These monsters from this other world, we thought they were gone. But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you."

"If they're back again, we need to know" Max says.

"That night, did you see anything?" Robin asks.

"Dark particles, maybe"

Eddie just shakes his head no.

"It would almost look like dust, swirling dust." Dustin specifies.

"No, man, there was nothing you could see or.. touch" Eddie explains.

I look at Steve who, now, looks more worried than before, full attention on Eddie.

"You know, I tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move. It was like she.. she was in a trance or something." Eddie explains and we all listen carefully.

"Or under a spell" Dustin points out.

"A curse."

"Vecna's curse" Dustin realises.

"Who's Vecna?" Steve asks

"And undead creature of great power" Dustin answers.

"A spell caster" I say, earning a confused look from Steve.

"A dark Wizard" Dustin finishes.

This might be worse than all the ones before...

Fuck.

We decided we have to go and get some food for Eddie.

"We'll be right back, man, I promise" Dustin says.

As we all walk to the door.

Steve and Dustin turn to me stopping me in my tracks.

"Why don't you... uh... stay here and keep him company?" Dustin asks.

"What? Why me?" Now I'm confused.

"Because you're the sweetest and he clearly has a thing for you" Steve replies as the most simple thing ever.

"He does not" I tell him sternly.

"Either way you're the best choice. You're calmer and... easier to be around than the rest of us" Steve convinces me.

"Y/n, trust me. He needs someone like you now. Please, I don't think he should be alone now" Dustin says looking me in the eyes.

"Fine" I tell him nodding "yeah, I'll stay with him. But you better stay out of trouble"

"As always" Steve shrugs.

I give him a warning look and just sigh. Watching them driving away.

I get back to the boathouse and see Eddie's figure watching nothing on the boat.

"Hey" I say quietly.

He seems to snap out of trance and looks at me surprised.

"I thought you all went" he says, with a small smile.

"Yeah well... we didn't.. uh... Dustin didn't want you to be alone right now" I tell him, fidgeting with my rings again.

"Thanks.. I guess he's right" he says.

I nod, walking a bit closer, but not too much.

"So..." he starts.

"So..." I mimic him, earning a laugh from him.

"You knew about the spell caster" he implies.

"Yeah... a-and?"

"You know about D&D..?" He asks.

"Yeah.." I say nervously.

"No way!" He whisper shouts.

"It's true!" I tell him, with a small chuckle.

"How come didn't you join Hellfire?" He asks, genuinely curious.

"I.. well.. I just..." I stutter.

"Hey.. I'm not judging, m'lady" he assures me, with a smile.

"I'm just too shy, I think.. also I'm not very good at playing" I laugh quietly.

"I could've taught you" he says.

"I... I'm not very good with people" I honestly tell him.

"What do you mean?"

"I.. I'm not very good at talking to people, I get nervous and stutter the whole time. And just... I just shut up so I don't bother anyone" I explain.

"You're not stuttering with me" he shrugs.

"I.." I stops realising it's true.

With him it feels easier, somehow..

"No need to worry about a freak's opinion, i guess." he lower his eyes, almost disappointed.

"No! Not at all!" I quickly say.

He look at me, searching my eyes to see if I'm messing with him.

"I... listen, I don't understand why people always call you that, but I personally always saw you as someone... cool" I say, getting shy as I finish my sentence.

"Really?" He says, he tries to hold back a smile, but he fails.

"Yeah.." I look away from him. "You always walk around like you don't care about anything. You have your ideas and you're not ashamed, and of course you shouldn't be ashamed of them. You're like smarter than any of those dickheads from the basketball team"

"Wow" he blushes... he blushes?

Did I make Eddie Munson blush?

"Are you blushing, my lord?" I gather some courage and make a joke.

"Oh... 'my lord' uh?" He looks at me with a smirk, that makes me instantly lower my eyes with my cheeks warming up.

"I.. yeah.. I mean, you keep calling me-"

"M'lady? Yeah, so I'd say 'my lord' fits perfectly" he sweetly smiles at me.

We stay silent for a while.

It's a comfortable silence, the kind you don't have to talk to fill it. We just need each other company to be okay.

I watch him fidgeting with his own hands.

He's getting nervous.

Instinctively I reach out for his hands and he turns to me, surprised, but he doesn't retreat his hands.

"It's gonna be okay" I tell him. "I know it sounds like a shitty cliché.. trust me I know." I let out a small chuckle "we've been through this shit a few times.. the point is, we're with you on this. We're gonna solve this."

He holds my hands in his.

"I want to believe you" he says looking me in the eyes.

"Good" I say.

He starts to stroke my knuckles gently.

"I'm glad you're the one to stay here, m'lady" he says.

"Apparently I'm the easiest to be around" I tell him with a shrug.

He's still not letting go my hands.

"Maybe... but that's not the only reason, but yeah" he says, a playful smile on his face.

"Then... w-why?" I say, feeling my cheeks warming up again.

"Well.. that's an answer for another time, uh?" He winks and I'm just speechless.

All of a sudden we hear noises from outside.

I grab the oar Steve used earlier and move to the door.

"Stay there" I tell Eddie.

I get closer and closer to the door, that suddenly opens reveling Robin, Dustin, Max and Steve holding some bags full of food and drinks.

"Fuck sake!" I exclaim as they enter with apologetic looks.

"delivery service" Dustin announces.

I look at Eddie who look just as startled, heavy breathing and all that.

I just exhale deeply and grab one of the bags they carried inside.

[gh0stward]

YOUR ART IS SO SO PRETTY!

and as someone who had a very long Monster High hyperfixation, i need to ask:

Who's your fav?

YOUR BLOG IS SO DELIGHTFUL! <333

thank you so much anon this means a lot 🥰 I’m happy you’re enjoying your stay at the ghost ward 🖤

I have a few favorites it’s hard to choose just one 😭 a lot of it depends on my horror induced brainrot

I think my number one favorite across all gens would have to be Frankie Stein! My second fave is Spectra of course and my third would have to be Twyla Boogey man!

Ramble underneath the cut skfjdnjwjdke

Frankie was one of the two very first monster high dolls I got as a kid (they were the ghouls alive dolls)

When I hit 18 I finally read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and it completely changed my brain chemistry. I love that Frankie is living the life that could have drastically changed the creature’s outcome. They live in a family and go to a school where they are loved and accepted for who they are, scars and all. I hope they get to live a long happy life 🖤

I personally like the studious fashion that’s been leaning more emo lately.

Spectra V was the second ghoul I got on the same christmas I got Frankie so I always associated her with Jacob Marley from The Christmas Carol. I wanna create a scary chain shaking scene with her eventually (btw one of my all time favorite depiction of The Christmas Carol; besides the muppets version, is Mr.Magoo’s Christmas Carol)

I always loved ghost characters idk why I just found the idea of someone’s spirit still lingering long after they have died fascinating. I also love the darker look her first gen core outfit has. I blame her for my obsession with laced up boots and corsets. It’s fun to think about how she got chained up. I notice she has a lock and key theme on her other gen 1 dolls, I wonder if her sins and guilt involve secrets.

Twyla 🖤 my baby

Her purple bunny motif is adorable and I love that she plays table top rpgs. I like to think she plays a lot of the White Wolf rpgs.

I really wanna get into table top rpgs myself but I’m so socially inept lmao 😭

I’m autistic myself and seeing a character just out right say they are autistic is really refreshing. Not to sound corny but I teared up a little bit when I first saw the scene. I relate to her song too

“I've got stories of monsters that live in my head

People and places I'll never forget

The shadows are dancing, they creep up the walls

But that don't define me at all”

I like the raspy voice she has the first two gens but I think her new voice is cute!

I also have to mention third gen Abbey Bominable and Catty Nior. Specifically third gen! They’re my mom’s absolute favorites! Their monster qualities are more prominent while still being beautiful. She loves the new body molds for the ghouls. It’s really sweat to see wider variety of bodies types in a doll line 🖤

(Catty’s photo is a stock photo, it does not belong to me)

[matchingbatbites]

WIP Weekend

So I was tagged by both @steves-strapcollection and @zerokrox-blog to do WIP Wednesday, but I'm turning it into another WIP Weekend! I had a lot of fun doing this last time, and now I can actually include my BigBang fic!!

RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

MY WIPS

how greedy my heart (BigBang fic, 18+)

possession 😈 (18+)

scars/tattoos

bat daddy (18+)

SNIPPET

This is from how greedy my heart, I'm so excited to finally be able to share some of this with you all <3

A thought hits Steve and he frowns as he reaches out for her hand. "Oh, but- Robin, I'm sorry. You said about Ms. Click's class-"

She blinks at him, confused for just a moment before she shakes her head. "No, I wasn't- I wasn't looking at you because I had a crush on you. It was because she wouldn't stop staring at you."

"Ms. Click?"

"No, Tammy Thompson."

It takes a moment for Steve to connect the dots through the haze in his brain, but when he does-

"Seriously?! Tammy Thompson is a total dud!"

Robin lets out an affronted squawk and kicks him not-so-gently. "Says the guy who's in a weird sex relationship with Eddie 'The Freak'!"

"At least he's talented! Tammy can't even hold a tune! She's practically tone deaf, have you heard her? All the time!" 

He's surprised he doesn't laugh as he breaks into a - definitely over exaggerated - rendition of Turn Around, but it makes Robin laugh so it's more than worth how silly he feels.

"She does not sound like that! No! She does not sound like that!

"She sounds exactly like that. It's a great impression."

"You sound like a muppet!"

"She sounds like a muppet! She sounds like a muppet giving birth!"

[nextstopwonderland]

Masterlist of Bryan Danielson content I've posted Part 1

BCC/Bryanmox related content & links to other masterlists

Graphics/collages

(Original post)

(Original post)

(Original post)

Video clips

Bryan Danielson puts over Orange Cassidy during the Forbidden Door II press conference

“Is that real leather?”

“I don’t put myself in high energy situations because I don’t enjoy necessarily frenetic energy” - Bryan Danielson on the outlet wrestling provides

Daniel Bryan calls out Raw for not showcasing women

Bryan Danielson doing a promo in a makeshift crop top while stroking his “sexy beard”

Bryan on Eddie Kingston

Best moments on Rampage compilation by TNT

AWS promo - April 30, 2005

“FICKLE! They’re FICKLE”

A wild Bryan Danielson appears at Starrcast

Bryan puts over Ricky Starks at the All Out 2023 media scrum

Full match: Bryan/ZSJ round 1

“Who’s overrated now??”

Bryan sells his ass (no, he really does)

“Let’s talk about the illusion of free will”

Bryan and Paul London dolphin pod promo

Bryan + Henry’s Gym

Bryan and Brie

Bryan + Blue Panther (includes screenshots)

“I am going to break your arm. I am going to break your right arm and you’ll never be able to do the rainmaker again.”

“I haven’t done a cartwheel in a long time”

“I’m not what?”

Bryan’s commentary promo vs Eddie

Bryan’s pre-match promo vs Eddie

Bryan’s post-match promo vs Eddie

“Oh, I’m on!!”

“I just wanted to subdue him a little”

“My wife and I joke we could turn it into a gimmick”

“That makes me feel alive”

“Put your cameras down, wink wink”

“I can feel the end coming”

“My brain is so focused on wrestling”

“So at what point am I deceiving myself?”

“Im beat up, but happy”

Dragon grr’s, but is merely adorable

WK slow-mo vid

Daniel Bryan + Muppets

Bryan addresses Eddie

Random ROH WRD clip

Bryan is superstitious of a cat

Bryan on his history with Eddie

“I should have given him my respect a long time ago” - Bryan and Eddie, post-revolution

“Because I know what I’m willing to do.”

“Blue Panther has been my favorite luchador since I was 15”

Bryan gets his hair braided in Arena Mexico

“You said you wanted to introduce me to proper Lucha libre.”

Wrestling to me has never been about proving I’m better than anyone else.”

Bryan returns to Mexico City

“My heaven will be standing in a wrestling ring bleeding in front of all of you”

“A BANGER!”

Video compilations/edits

Bryan Danielson sings boy bands

HEY (EW) supercut

Bryan I don’t like frenetic energy Danielson being unhinged

Ring of honor compilation

Bryan’s got legs and he knows how to use ‘em (fanvid set to legs by ZZ Top)

Supercut of Bryan/ZSJ round 2

Wrestling road diaries supercut

“I may suck. I am opening to sucking” - 4 min and 33 seconds of why we should be thankful for Bryan Danielson’s existence

“He's trying to shake my hand, but we're not friends” - Bryan and Eddie in roh (plus some Nigel in the background)

Bryan + Will + doctors post-dynasty

The I have till 5 edits

Bryan has till 5 (a fanvid/fancam set to he’s a rebel & also a scaled down edit)

Bryan and his opponents still have till 5

Bryan and even more of his opponents have till 5

Audio clips

Robin Tran thanks Bryan Danielson for inspiring her to come out as transgender

Part 2

[scuddisher]

FOR WHAT IT WAS WORTH

What was once a youthful dream of playing in a band and gaining a loving relationship with the bass player quickly becomes a cold memory as Jeremy leaves you behind for his work as a medical examiner. But as a sudden redemption of his passion for being a musician brings him back into your life, you find yourself holding on to the love and lust you once had—and begging for the future you once dreamed of together.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT PAIRING — ex! jeremy x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — fic, exes! au, bass player! au, (rival) band! au, angst, smut, romance, slight science fiction WORD COUNT — 6.1k WARNINGS — mature content, emotionally painful scenarios, mutual pining, heartbreak, longing, finger biting (bc it’s norman lol), lots and lots of romantical and soft gestures btw SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, loss of virginity, protected & unprotected intercourse, teasing, begging, marking, oral (reader receiving), soft dom! jeremy, mocking, creampie, love-making, the smut is better than the plot lmao RELEASE DATE — DEC 14TH, 2022

AUTHOR’S NOTE — this fic was once posted when i was writing for kpop idols, but has since been changed because i believe it fits jeremy quite well! things have also been shifted to include the whole disease-riddled city scenario, but it’s not a huge part of the plot. my brain wanted to see more of bass player! jeremy so bad and this was the outcome lol… & i know jeremy isn't a well known character so if this flops it flops rip

PROLOGUE.

What had brought you to this moment was a segment of events once working in your favor. It was the gut feeling in your stomach as you had stood on the stage, the lights seeming to blind you more than usual that night.

Your music seemed to thump to the beat of your heart, the light stomp of your foot almost too strong like it could help you walk away from everything before it even began.

Even the nulling screams of blank faces in the crowd couldn't contain your surroundings. The bass player strung along the same as he did every night, turning around once or twice to match a look with the drummer—the one no one could see except for sticks and hair like a muppet. The mechanical keyboard still sounded through all the loud instruments, carrying each beat and matching the hitch to your voice.

They were all there, in place and sound meshing—but the darkening spot to your left felt as though it was empty. Where Jeremy stood, fingertips against the strings of his guitar never missing a beat even with his mind somewhere else, it didn't have his true presence.

That moment, his stirring eyes holding back tears with your voice filling his ears as if you were the only two people in the room. Your vocal cords were gaining a sudden shake to the lyrics as reality set in.

It was the first time you knew you were losing him.

His black eyes were sorrowful, the concert soon coming to a close. With every fiber of energy given to your form from the crowd, adrenaline running through your veins, and his—neither of you could match sight of one another. Not all at once, a hand or limb in your peripheral to reassure you that he was still there no matter how far you were going.

Cold night air draws every bit of warmth from your skin, and for the first time in over two years you don't feel the heat of his hands against your neck. Wrapping his grey leather jacket around you, his scent filling your nose—it was all an allusive thought. A chill down your spine not actually occurring.

But what had officially closed all reconsideration of fate from your mind was his frame hunched at the side of his bed later that night, pen in his hand. All evening he had stayed out of your grasp, just far enough to make your skin crawl and body ache from not having him to hold. Muscle memory, the discomfort of being away from him had finally awakened your mind to witness the scene.

His distance, the shadow of a man you once called your own—and a written note on his pillow for you to find right as the door of your once shared apartment shut behind him for the last time.

His calloused hands playing his bass guitar was what had brought your voice out, loud and clear for the interview that would change your life as you knew it. For all he had done, what it was all worth—his note of nothing more than "I love you. Things have just become too dangerous for you." wasn't enough to coat your breaking heart.

You had watched the dawn rise long before most that morning. Purple skies distorted by your tear-filled gaze, the small page was held against your chest like his final words could stitch the hole he left in your heart.

All that you had pushed out to carry on, to keep your career and band afloat—to find a new bass player. It all diminished in a split second every night that you would have to return to your own apartment alone and cold.

When your own music, your own voice, suddenly began to start sounding like it was someone else creating it—you truly learned what had been lost. But as things returned, new and fresh sounds claimed your hearing, and your band took a turn for the best—the contest that would make or break your careers landed at your feet.

Ten bands competing against one another, only for one to win a record deal and a concert in any stadium of choice—it was a fight to the death for an opening you had been hoping for forever.

All was right once more. Guitar player to your right spinning to match sights with the drummer—who carried on a single spin of a stick between beats like it was the easiest thing he had ever done. The mechanical keyboard only made your voice sound clearer, ethereal to the crowd. The latest band member added—a bass player who could play more riffs off the top of his head than you had ever seen before, and his mere existence on the stage only extended the significance of your band to the crowd and competition.

Your first win seemed easy, too easy for what you had gone through to get here.

But his dark shadow, the scent of his light scented cologne vaguely passing through the hallway as you walked off stage, melancholy voice like music in itself as he spoke to someone. That was all it took to make you halt in place and find him throughout the filled backstage space.

Jeremy, once the bassist for your band—now the leading competitor of the competition, stood in your sight with his once sorrow filled eyes finding your own.

He had claimed to leave due to his second job being a health hazard. It was his way of allowing you to step out into fresh air—to rid yourself of someone who could damage you long term if his life was lost to what he did from nine to five.

But all it took was one look into his irises, his pupils dilating to study you where you stood. And it all came fluttering back to you.

"Long time, no see." His voice cracked with a smile, the same one that made you fall in love all over again.

ONE.

In the flesh, the same skin you had kissed and licked time and time again. The muscles in his arms veiny as he gripped at the belt of his bass, ripped jeans tight around his thighs as he walked towards you.

His voice was like velvet speaking in your direction. "I was hoping to see you here."

You could hear the jingling of the chains at his waist, see the lights shining on his dulled out tattoos as he moved in closer to you. He dressed all the same, spoke in the same fashion, carried himself in the way you knew. And yet the people standing behind him weren't your original band.

"Nice trophy." Your band's new bass player was too easy for him to spot, the instrument on his back in the same way Jeremy wore his—only the member was amplified by the glare of the golden statue in his hold. "He was insane out there."

Your mind stopped time for a second, the strings being played minutes before your own bass player had hit the stage seeming all too familiar. He had been here all along, and it was clear he had seen you long before you had seen him.

His band was holding a silver trophy, a sign that you would be seeing Jeremy much more often in this competition.

The man was like a dream. Every mark on his skin was influenced by crowdwork or his practice. You once counted the hard calluses on his hands every night to help you fall asleep, could still smell the metal on his fingertips from where they would graze the strings when he refused to play with a pick.

His hands still appeared the same, black leather, cigarette behind his ear, fingerless gloves pulled from his hands and stuffed into his front left pocket just as he always did when he finished a set. Those same hands, the ones your own clung to the first night you made love—you had dreamt of them so often.

Even in the deepness of the night, darkness all around and even darker behind the lids of your eyes—you could see and feel him clearly.

How his head had fallen against your shoulder, sweaty hair dripping beads of moisture down your body. His forehead felt hot like he was running a fever, the redness in his cheeks half from the motions of his hips lifting to meet yours and half from the bashful eye contact he attempted to hold with you.

You remembered his eyes the most, their roundness becoming thinner, the small drops of tears from pleasure running from the far corners of his eyes as he fell onto his back and allowed you on top to ride him.

That was when his hands had matched yours, leaving your waist from guiding you—your first time making your body anxious. The way his length had glided into you inch by inch until you no longer felt any pain—your bodies connected in the most human way possible.

It was the first time you had officially taken account of how many callouses he actually had along his hands. On the spaces of his palms where his fingers met, at the top line of his thumb most prominent, and each finger tip being rougher from his pinky to his index finger. His hands held yours so tightly, fingers laced together as you let your lower halves control the motions and pleasure.

It was the first and last time you had given yourself to someone—out of love only, your body being the ultimate tool to share the passion you felt in your heart.

Those round puppy eyes matched your sight again after so long, Jeremy's body slightly hunched over to be face to face with you. "What are you thinking about?” His minty breath fanned over your face, the vibrations of his words making you shake. It didn’t take long for his thumb to fall in between his lips, his teeth nervously chewing on the skin around the nail of the digit as it always did. “Hmm?"

There is something so special about the relationships we have once had but lost, that when reconnected—it feels as though no time has passed since parting.

"Huh?"

Your mind had raced off, staring at his hands like they were still yours to take a hold any time you pleased. The love you had, all of the emotions you had gone through—you felt like you had been blasted into the past for just a moment. Like you had made it to this competition, this part of life, together.

"Always somewhere else." Jeremy's head shook, a sly smile on his face making your heart leap.

So easily, the cocky man named Jeremy still had the power of attraction over you. All it would take was a lift of his eyebrow, the one he always cut a slit into to accessorize his facial features and stand out. Such a simple motion would be enough to tell you he knows you were thinking of him, the following laugh breaking you into your own smiling fit.

You watched his full grown brow lift, the corners of his mouth pull into a smile, could make out the soft chuckle leaving his bubbling chest—and for a second in time you were convinced he still loved you.

"I'm right here, Jeremy."

His name rolling off your tongue so easily took his band by surprise, their shared glances making you back deeper into the hall and away from the open space where they gathered under the stairs.

Just as expected—he hadn't mentioned you to them. From the start of the competition until now, they had merely been convinced Jeremy was only a fan of your band.

Their whispers, your name quietly mentioned, and Jeremy's smiling face right in your sight. "I-It was nice seeing you again."

"Don't think you can cut this off so quickly." His voice was a whisper in your ear, blue eyes flashing with the light of something new before he blinked softly. Three steps closer, his breath blowing across your skin, and as always—Jeremy had some unknown reason for making himself known to you that night. "I don't bite."

"Yes you do." Your eyes were swelling just as his nose scrunched, laughter loud from your enclosed distance.

"Not unless you ask, remember?" His plump lips were just a few centimeters from your ear, his tongue poking out between them to tap at your neck.

It was almost as if he forgot who left that night.

"Jeremy." Your voice was stern, his body backing up enough to see the entire frame of your face. "I think we need to talk."

That one word: talk. He hated that word. All Jeremy ever wanted was to speak his mind to you, day or night—and reciprocate the conversation. Not once did he ever enjoy the use of the statement. He believed saying that a talk was necessary took away the magic of just holding the conversation itself.

You could see his skin crawl. Watching as his brows knitted, his lips fell into a pout, and his eyes watered with worry—even he knew this had to happen at some point.

"We do." His voice had turned so soft, a weak tone in his two words that made a chill run up your spine. "I need to tell you what happened."

TWO.

The buzzing sign of the twenty-four-hour coffee shop welcomed you in with an additional chime of a bell over the door. Jeremy walked before you with nothing but his bass in its bag on his back, and your mind couldn't help but remember how often you had seen this image before things ended.

The first time you confessed to someone, it was Jeremy—standing out in the midst of the snow on the long walk home. Transportation had taken away the seclusion, going with friends to the corner store for some quick drinks and food would have lessened the privacy. And for once, you and Jeremy had full control on when you wanted to be alone together.

"Isn't there a saying—never date the lead singer of the band?" You remember his words so clearly, even the laugh that followed them. "I think I've broken a rule here."

"Is that a yes?" Your voice held cheer, cheeks changing temperature quickly from the freezing night air.

"There's no way I'm passing you up." His arm wrapped around you, pulling you in.

Cheek to cheek, not even a kiss placed on your face would have made your heart beat as hard and fast as it had. Witnessing him pull the thick and already warm leather jacket off his back and around yours made you swallow hard. Adjusting your coat, he placed his gloved hands against your cheeks to hold you in place just so he could look deeply into your eyes.

"Of course it's a yes."

"I never meant to leave you like that."

He sat across from you, steaming drink cupped between his hands to warm his cold fingertips. He looked all the same the more you stared, but the subtle changes from time having passed still stood out.

The natural dark blonde locks of his hair were longer, a few extra piercings along his ears, and his once sliced eyebrow now grown out with the mark of another piercing recently removed beginning to heal. His clothes seemed new, not thrifted as he used to wear. And even as he spoke, his voice seemed to have grown sadder from what you had last heard.

"There was just so much going on."

"Like what?"

You never considered what he could say that would fix what was broken. Words don't carry as much weight when spoken out of comfort compared to when spoken out of spite.

Thousands of times your mind raced with what could have been the real reason he left you that night without any words ever spoken aloud. Was he seeing someone else behind your back? Had he felt differently about the choices of the band? Was it you? Had you done something to cause him to leave? If his work caused so much sudden change to occur, why had that night specifically driven him to depart, claiming it was out of his care and the safety of your well-being?

What words could possibly cover that?

"I was promised a raise. A new job had become available as the CDC needed more examiners within the city, but the real cost of the job was needing to be fully quarantined." He began, words soft and slow like he regretted saying them now instead of then. "When I got there, they had me practically twiddling my thumbs while doctors with full degrees did the work for me."

"They treated you like the custodian even though they asked you to be there?"

Jeremy, as much as he appeared to be this head-strong bass player with nothing truly figured out—was actually a well-known genius in his department, working for health and services as a part-time examiner and occasional forensic executive. Every glistening piece of jewelry, his beautiful features and likable personality always put him in the spotlight of the stage, but so few people knew what he actually did for a living. All he wanted to do was make music and work off his school loans.

"Exactly." His hand flattened out with his palm up in your direction, a way of showing his appreciation for you following along with what he explained. "I was told, and I swear to this—"

Agony, pain, restless nights of not knowing why. All you wanted was him to come home to you, but all he was trying to do was what he believed was right for himself and you along the way.

"—that you and the band would be safe until we found the leading string of the disease. Something for the authorities to put on the death certificates of all the innocent lives lost to something we couldn’t entirely explain." You could hear him holding back a stutter when he spoke of you. "That this nightmare would come to and end, and I could come home.."

"Can't trust scientists." You had said it dozens of times as a joke.

"But after the first breakthrough, they needed more. As much as I was there to help, and as little as they gave me to do—they refused to let me leave. They made me sign an NDA and everything."

It was a mistake. He had gambled everything on his own thinking he could change the course of your careers all in one go. Fix all the damage his job and debt had done. But he had forgotten about the team effort you and your band had originally created in his solo act of braveness.

"I didn't know what to think." You almost cut him off, the words about to leave his mouth behind sucked back in by his deep inhale. "When you left me that night and I woke up to a note, I couldn't find any reason."

"I thought I would have things sorted and be back home to you in no time."

There was that word again. Home, you both still referred to each other as home.

"But when I came back from quarantine, I saw the billboards of the band's new release to be played live in concert." He breathed so unsteadily. "For some reason, I believed you had moved on without me."

"We did." The tears that had been held down all night slowly began to leave your eyes. You took notice in the whites of Jeremy’s eyes slowly turning red from irritation, finally allowing himself to cry, too. "Because we got the flyer about this competition from our manager. He said it was our chance to get signed, that all we needed was a bass player."

"Right—"

"And when we finally saw you again—" Tears dripped into your drink, long turned cold from the slow conversation pursuing between you and the man you still love like he never went away. "Your name was plastered with some other band. The one you're with now."

"When things started becoming clearer, we finally got a release date for my floor. After that, they pretty much put us out back on the street to return home. Some of us were gone so long, we didn’t have a home to return to. And when I came home, the locks were changed. I knew you had changed with it."

Jeremy, always concerned about others, never stopped fighting.

"I didn’t know any other sort of hobby than the band, so I had to turn to what I knew and find another one that needed me.” He laughed gently, peering down at his shaky hands. “None of us thought we’d even get anywhere until we found the flyer on some random diner's bulletin board. We barely even made it into the sign in list earlier." Jeremy's hand pressed into his face, wiping away the tears he could no longer hold back. "And when I saw the band’s name written on that list—"

Reality was so different, but the two of you still lived in a world where things were connected and flourishing.

"I knew fate was telling me to find you again. No matter the cost. I just—had to tell you what actually happened and let you decide for yourself."

"Decide what, Jeremy?"

"If you would even take me back."

THREE.

You could still feel those calloused fingers pulling at the strings of your heart. It wasn't just his soft eyes, the tears he wept beginning to dry into his skin, or his shaking hand reaching out for your own that made you realize everything was happening for a reason.

It was him, Jeremy sitting before you as himself—as new and old as he appeared, but still the same man you had fallen in love with.

What words could comfort you? None. There was nothing to be said between two broken-hearted people finding themselves in a familiar space all over again.

Tailored to a crowd or to a job’s space, working the energy of so many people time and time again—you and Jeremy had long surpassed basic criteria needed to read a room.

Your body lifted from your seat, hunching over the table and taking his chin between your thumb and index finger. You heard him gasp, felt the sudden breath being sucked into his body as your lips met—and most importantly, felt him fall into a deep kiss.

Although your mind had convinced you to fight it, to black out Jeremy and carry on—there was nothing like feeling his kiss. His plump lips moving along yours, the gentle smell of his sweated out shampoo filling your nostrils from such a close angle. And Jeremy, shaking as he fell back into his seat with a giddy smile on his face.

"So, is that a yes?" This time it was him asking the question that made your body rock back and forth in wonder and excitement.

A paid tab, his hand in yours, and his body guiding you out of the cafe out into the cool night air. Even the lights shined in a similar way, the moon overhead igniting more adrenaline to push through your veins.

And the shiver up your spine didn't go unnoticed—Jeremy's hand falling into a pocket of his leather jacket, the one item of clothing you never imagined you'd see again.

That jacket, made of soft string and thick fake leather—once black but now faded into a gray—the piece wrapped around your form like it had never left.

"I think we're getting a redo." Jeremy was witty towards the scenario, his own sense of deja vu overcoming him and causing him to speak. "Too bad we don't have our apartment to go back to."

You could see his face contort in confusion at the sound of the jingling keys, his eyes matching the loop around your fingers as you pulled the object from your bag. "Thought rent would be more than it was."

His smile, wide and cheeky watching the keys he had left behind—the second object he left in hopes for you to find—still in your safekeeping.

"Nice trick." You claimed, a laugh stifling your words. "Putting your key on my key ring before you left."

"Force of habit to leave hints, I guess."

With Jeremy moving into the room, the apartment's air seemed to revert back to how it smelled then. A scented candle lit somewhere, his natural scent moving throughout the space and claiming it all over again.

You had kept from moving anything. The furniture seemed dented into the flooring from where it sat for so long, even your matched collections of vinyls still stood in the same order on the bookshelf. The same plates and silverware, rugs only cleaned annually and placed back into their spots, blankets folded the same—the apartment still catered to a first time couple's comfort and solace.

"It's—" His laugh, that sweet sound you dreamed of hearing in this space again. "—the same. All of it."

His eyes were as wide as his grin, sight following every familiar feature to the home as he circled the studio apartment.

His calloused hands feeling at the blanket he always covered you and himself with when you would begin to doze off on the couch. His eyes wandered the framed pictures and drawings along the walls, laughing at the randomly placed polaroids scattered across the apartment. It was all joy, the remaining piece of his hold on his emotions finally giving way when he found sight of the bed.

His side was completely made, stiff and the same as he had left it. It was almost as if he could still see the note on his pillow, remembering his own handwriting on the little piece of paper that broke his heart to write. Your side of the bed was entirely messy unlike his made-up side, an obvious sign that you still wished him to be there during the night.

You could see his Adam's apple bob, hear the sounds of a choked up man begin to crack. The tears that fell down his soft cheeks—they were held in for years when they were meant to be released that night, same as everything else.

"I really—" He sniffled between words, your sudden appearance before him pulling him into a hug only making him cry harder. "—left all of this behind for some stupid job that I thought would make things easier in the future?"

"You were thinking of everything at once, Jeremy." On the off-style occasion that words do comfort, now was the proper example. "Thinking is how I became the one you loved. How I got on that stage every night with you. And how I continued to get up there even when you weren't by my side."

"H-How? How did you have the strength to do all of that after what happened?" He cried.

"Do you remember the first thing you said to me that night after we made love for the first time?" Your words were fast, like you yourself wanted them out and into his ears to catch him up to pace—to make him feel what you felt then and now. "It's the same thing you wrote on that note that night, Jeremy."

"I love you."

"You put your forehead against mine so all I could see was your eyes. All I could do was hear your voice as I came back into reality. And that was the first thing you said to bring me back. To make me understand—"

"You were the last person I ever imagined parting from. Ever." Jeremy rambled, his eyes clouded with his own tears as his head fell against your shoulder and grip tightened around you. "You were the first person I ever made love to. And the last."

"I never wanted anyone else more than I wanted you." Your words became softer, his brown but gold highlighted locks running between your fingers as you tugged at the strands to get his attention. Lifting his head and matching your sight, it was like lightning had struck your heart with true love. "And you gave me more."

"I-I love you. I still love you. No—I never stopped." His words ran together, body shaking in your hold with his eyes watching yours. "My back aches in every motel bed. My ears can't enjoy music when you're not the one singing along to my bass."

He appeared so weak, strengthened by your frame before him just as the last of the painful images of loneliness he suffered through faded away, his lips matching yours. Your mind, once racing with a million thoughts of what was or what could be, finally shut up at the sake of having Jeremy back in your hold and his kiss surpassing every other meaningful occurrence in that moment.

When you finally backed away, his head pressing into your neck to place soft kisses while he caught his breath—things had fallen into place. His bag on the sofa, scent filling the space more each second he stood within its walls, and you—falling deep into the sensual spell of your ex boyfriend's lust once more.

"I need you."

FOUR.

His mouth attached to your neck, bringing a low moan from between your lips. His soft hair chilling against your skin from the fibers still holding the temperature of the night air from minutes before.

Scent thick in your nostrils, the same cologne he always wore to a large show—it seemed to drown out all your senses at once and allow him to be the only thing on your mind.

Jeremy always had a way of pulling you from reality, placing you in a dream-like state for hours at a time. His voice calling into your ear with light sounds of pleasure, your name the loudest of them all. His skin heating up quickly against your own, the discarded clothing now laying over the same objects he couldn't take his eyes off before.

And for a split second—a dash of your eyes around the room witnessed everything you had missed. Finding his shirt tossed on the bookshelf where the vinyls were stacked. His pants slowly falling off the arm of the sofa. Jermy on top of you, the weight of both your bodies falling into the same dip in the cushions as you always did. It was heaven.

"Fuck—" The word was subtle from his mouth, his tongue’s main focus on kitten licking the soft spot on your neck. "I missed this."

"Me too." You whined, combing your fingers through his hair.

His shirtless form, abs tightening and expanding with each breath that overtook both his chest and stomach from how hard he panted. You could hear his hisses, each bump of your thigh against his length making it harder for him to not lose himself right then and there.

"Still a tease." He nearly growled.

Your neck began to bore him as his mouth moved lower. Across your chest, a lap at your hardening nipples, and finding himself sucking at the skin of your lower abdomen right above your underwear.

It was by accident, the loud gasp you released at the feeling of his lips finding you through the thin fabric of your underwear. His tongue poking between his lips to taste you, arousal overtaking your own body in the same way it was his.

Your mind felt fuzzy at the feeling of him lapping at you through the fabric. Legs shaking, kicking at his own bent knees pressing into the sofa. His arms at either side of your head, the strong scent of his deodorant once clouding the scent of your lightly-sweated bodies beginning to fill the room. And you felt like you were on cloud nine.

The mess he had created from his own saliva soaking against your underwear mixed with your own responsive juices made a wet sound as he pulled at them. Peeling them from you, separating your legs to place himself comfortably between them, and the man seemed to lose himself over you.

His tongue was like hot water overlapping every sensitive spot, his fingers coating where his mouth couldn't. You could hardly make a sound from the amount of pleasure filling you all at once, Jeremy's name the only syllables you could mutter.

"What do you want?" That eyebrow lift, his smirk covered in a glistening, light coat of arousal and saliva, and his arms pressing beneath you.

Without missing a beat, it only took two steps and Jeremy's strong arms to lift and toss you onto the bed. Shaking from the cool air against your hot skin, he could only laugh at the way your hand reached out for him.

"Want me?" He begged the question, but you were the only one truly begging. To feel him again—he knew you needed him badly. "Am I what you want?"

"J-Jeremy—I, please."

"Please! Please!" His tone was mocking but soft—dark, his eyes darker, and his body leaning over you like he was the only one you'd ever want to see again. And he was right. He spoke just above a whisper, calmly although it seemed as if his head was buzzing with excitement. "Can't believe I left you all alone."

This time the statement wasn't out of sadness, not a drip of worry on his tongue. He knew you'd touch yourself to him, whine his name that only you could hear, and find yourself wishing your hands were his. The man had you wrapped around his finger, your heart beating rhythmically as he finally sunk into your walls.

Maybe it was the amount of saliva he poured onto you through his tongue, allowing himself to match the natural wetness your body was already creating. But the squelch from his cock slipping into you, it was nothing like the cry that left your mouth.

His calloused hand found yours, stretching your fingers from the tight fist it clenched into from feeling full. The rough calluses, a huff from Jeremy to tell you he was already too close to hold on much longer, and the deepest thrust into you he could create.

Your hips matched his own, feeling him hitting so deep into you made your words even less coherent than they were to start. You could feel the sweat from his body dripping onto your own, feel the heat radiating off him.

With your body finally getting the fill it needed, wanted, dreamt of, and begged for—a white light quickly took over your sight, slowly turning into darkness and stars.

You could hardly make him out, Jeremy's cock burying itself inside of you until the flush heat you felt coming from his body suddenly filled your insides.

"Fuck—my, ahh. I'm—" Jeremy was just at a loss for words as you, his hand holding yours tightly and forehead pressing into yours the only sign for you to come back into reality.

Sweat from both your bodies mixed together, his body keeping upright above yours with only his head leaning against you and cock slowly pulling out.

"Jere-my—" You stuttered, his eyes quickly looking into your own as he tried to catch his breath.

"What is it, baby?"

"Please don't leave me this time."

His pearled smile was bright in your eyesight, closing to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat slowing down to a normal rate, and hear his breath regain a steady pace. "I'm not going anywhere."

Falling to his side of the bed, the space cold enough to make him shiver—you finally realized how full circle things had come. The lonesome nights had ended, any tears falling from now on were only out of happiness—and Jeremy was right by your side.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, pulling you into his side and watching you rest your head on his chest.

"I was just thinking—" Your words were finally full of energy and not breathless. "—where to go from here."

"With the competition?"

Your head nodded, eyes catching another smirk growing across his lips.

"I've been thinking about that, myself." He grinned. "And you know what I figured out?"

"What's that, Jeremy?"

"Nowhere in the rules does it state that two bands can't form one band together in order to win."

Clever as they come, a man with the lights shining on him before he even understood his talent or power of enthrallment, and especially where his head and heart lay in the world. Jeremy had been put right where he belongs in life, and as your partner—and was quickly learning that there was more in store for the both of you, together.

"So, what do you say? Want that do-over?"

© scuddisher — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

are you. are you still doing the mutual ask?

Bia. Oh my friend. I was hoping you’d send one of these heck yeah.

WELL WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT. MANY BINGOS! (well technically one bingo and a few nearly-there-bingos but STILL)

Slight older sibling vibes. Ever so slight.

Hehe harasses you with. with the gifs. of. of wilbur… soot. harasses you-

SHARED INTERESTSSSSSS!!! Fellow DSMP fan who is Christian :D Fellow person who does not like Wilbur and Techno as twins! Fellow person who loves sandduo! Fellow person who writes fanfic! Fellow person who likes AJR!

c!Phil is Your Guy, 100%. Blorbo. When I think of you I think of c!Phil. Messy birb guy.

EATS YOUR WRITING OH MAN EATS IT DEVOURS ONNOMNOM. The excitement I feel when I receive an email stating you have posted/updated a fic is unparalleled. Like. Oh my gosh. You write the best fics ever. ALSO APARTMENT 238 MY BELOVED <3

Listen, I love Phil, but I am also judging him a little bit <3 Just a bit. Still love him though. Messy birb guy.

I LOVE IT WHEN YOU SPOUT OFF YOUR VAST KNOWLEDGE OH MY GOSH YOU KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT SO MANY THINGS YESSSSSSSS

Mutual chaos >:D We made the Man Or Muppet edit together, I’d say <3 You are chaotic and I am crazy we do well together *nods*

Free space: WE MUST GO ON A ROAD TRIP AND EAT GUMMI WYRMS AND GO TO GAS STATIONS AND SUCH! WE MUST! Meeting up irl would actually be so much fun oh my goshhhhh

I LOVE IT WHEN YOU SEND MESSAGESSSSSS it’s so much fun!! I absolutely love getting harassed by you XD And despite the Cursed-ness, I do enjoy when you tag me in horrid Cars AU’s lol. We harass each other. It’s the circle of life.

Met on tumblr, yep! You were the second DSMP friend I ever made :’) And also the person who helped me navigate the DSMP fandom lol I was so confused about Everything back then-

I consider you one of my best friends <3 Not many people could stay up until 5am talking to each other OR argue for 40 minutes over Doomsday and still be close lol. Our bond is strong, my friend.

I DO THE SPINNY THING A LOT WHEN I CHAT WITH YOU YESSSSSSS!!! Especially when we vc :D I remember you telling me that Ghostbur was “like the boyfriend I just don’t see the potential in” and my brain did spinny things because I loved the way you worded that lol AND ALSO you and other-discord-friend were talking about Minecraft and how neither of you were good at combat/fighting within the game, and that you were holding me up to “Technoblade levels of fighting” once I get the game XD It was so awesome and I wrote that quote down because I loved it so much alsgaksgaksgajg

Still to this day I kinda freak out whenever you interact with me XD AND WE HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER SO LONG!!! WELL OVER A YEAR!!!

Heh I shoved The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty in your face, I did I did. And also Lovejoy.

What are friends if they cannot shake each other violently /pos? <3

I love getting to chat about my fic ideas with you but I still get nervous over doing it :’) Not even specific with you, but with anyone 😅 I guess because I’m so quiet irl, I have a hard time… bringing myself to share ideas with people? I don’t know, I’m trying to work on it :) But yes, I looove getting to chat about ideas with you, Bia!!

[gallusgalluss]

fucked up and absolutely twisted im never going to shut up about these sentences

[lovelytsunoda]

kiss you // lando norris

summary:  the four times lando norris realised he was madly in love

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: mention of sex, mentions of the miami 2022 gp crash. lando being a dumbass at the beginning but he gets his brain cells back, don’t worry

author’s note: so i guess that i’m committing to writing on here now- this is technically the second part in the ‘one direction’ series but each fic is a stand alone with a different driver. the first part is ‘night changes - lance stroll’ and can be found on my masterlist if you are interested.

the first time

the monaco roads were precarious, and lando should have known that. but alas, here he was, out in the middle of buttfuck nowhere with a flat tyre that- shocker- he didn;t know how to change. i mean, he's never had to. he’s lando goddamn norris.

“fucking shite!” he shouted, kicking the tyre rim. “this is what you get for not listening to daniel when he tries to teach you useless life skills!”

he was still fuming when a smaller, much simpler car pulled to a stop behind him.

a volkswagen beetle. charming.

and then she got out of the car. 

“it’s not every day you see some fucker in a mclaren at the side of the road with a flat.” the white halter top she wore showed off sunburned shoulders, shoulders dusted gently by her short hair. a baseball cap sat on her head, adorned in the mercedes logo. “need a hand?”

“yes, please.” lando was aware that he sounded desperate, but there was no way he was leaving his luxury supercar at the side of the road and walking back to his apartment complex, and here was a beautiful stranger in vans and cutoff shorts who was simply offering to fix everything for him.

so how could he say no?

“how are you going to drive something as gorgeous as a mclaren and not know how to treat it right?” the girl grinned, kneeling down to inspect the tyre. “christ, what did you run over?”

“no fucking clue.”

the girl turned to look back up at him, squinting from the sun in her eyes, and lando was overcome with a vision of the beautiful stranger on her knees for a very different reason. one that wasn’t so innocent.“you’re one of those formula race car drivers, aren’t you?”

lando wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or insulted. “maybe. depends. who’s your team?”

the girl laughed, a beautiful angelic sound. “didn’t you see the cap?” she tapped the baseball cap on her scalp. “mercedes or bust, baby. i’m y/n, by the way.” she reached out a partially sunburned hand for lando to shake.

“lando norris, driver for mclaren.” lando took her hand and shook it gently. her skin was soft- christ lando tell your brain to be quiet-

“huh, a mclaren driver? so you know daniel ricciardo?”

lando shrugged like it was nothing, but his palms were getting clammy and suddenly the button-up linen shirt he was wearing was too warm.

y/n got to her feet, dusting off her knees before taking off her hat and throwing her hair back in a top knot using one of the scrunchies on her wrist. “come on, you muppet. i’m not just changing the tyre for you, you’re gonna learn. it’s a life skill.”

she grabbed the tyre iron from lando and got to work, guiding the mclaren driver through every step so that the driver would be able to figure it for himself next time. when lando offered to lift both tyres for her, y/n laughed at him, proceeding to pick up the spare by herself and holding it in place for lando to put the nuts back on with the ratchet.

twenty minutes later, y/n was confident that the mclaren car was safe to drive.

“thank you so much, y/n. you don’t even know.”

y/n grinned. “what are you gonna do to make it up to me, norris?”

lando’s heart started beating faster and faster, his breathing shallow as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his khakis. he could think of plenty of not-so-innocent ways to make it up to y/n, but he feared he would come on too strong. she was different, and he wanted her to stick around for a while.

“coffee?” he suggested, mentally kicking himself for being so lame.

y/n chuckled. “i don’t drink coffee, but i could go for a godiva hot chocolate. i know a place. i’ll drive, you follow?”

the coffee date was incredible. y/n was truly the most fascinating person that he had ever met. they talked for hours, and he never wanted it to end.

neither did y/n, her heart swelling every time lando made her laugh. the stitch in her side hurting with each paddock story that had her clutching her stomach in laughter.

so it was no surprise that they both found their way into lando’s apartment that night, y/n pressed against a wall as lando kissed her neck, her hands tangled in his hair as he left marks up and down her skin, his hands slipping up the back of her shorts before he carried her to bed.

the second time

they had been together for two wild months. two of the most incredible months of lando’s life. y/n spent more time at lando’s apartment than she spent at her own.

they were infatuated with each other.

as soon as the elevator doors slid shut, their hands were all over each other, lando’s soft lips on hers, kissing her hungrily. his thigh between her legs.

when the doors opened on lando’s floor, they stumbled out of the lift, hand in hand and giggling like teenagers. neither party could wait to get back to lando’s, limbs tingling in anticipation of what was to come next.

they got to the door, and lando dropped her hand to look for his keys.

they weren’t in the pockets of his slacks, nor his blazer. he stood in front of his own house door awkward;y, patting himself down in search of the elusive house keys.

“lando? babe, what’s wrong?”

“i think my keys are still sitting on the kitchen table. damn auto-lock is going to stop us from getting inside.”

there was a pause of about three seconds, and then they both burst out laughing.

“are you fucking serious?” y/n gasped through laughter. “there’s no way. this shit only happens in movies!”

“i don;t know what to say.” lando giggled drunkenly, reaching into his jacket pocket for his phone. “let me call daniel, see if he can bring me the spare.”

“it’s still so surreal to me that you can just call daniel fucking ricciardo.”

“i thought you were a mercedes girl?’

“mercedes is my team, but danny ric is my driver. where he goes, i go.”

minutes later, lando hung up the phone, sighing resignedly as he leaned against the locked front door. “he’s gonna be at least half an hour. he’s not even sure where the spare key is.”

y/n bit the inside of her cheek. “i’m sure we can think of something.” she popped open her purse, thumbing through tubes of chapstick, lip gloss, her wallet and phone until she found what she was looking for. “aha!” she exclaimed, extracting an uno deck from inside the small leather clutch.

lando grinned. “uno? you really want to open that pandora’s box here?”

“what else are we going to do?”

so lando and y/n sat in front of the locked door, brightly coloured cars in their hands as they played uno until daniel arrived, a broad grin on his face and lando’s spare keys in his hand.

“who’s winning?” the aussie laughed, looking at lando’s overflowing hand and the grim expression on his teammates face. “probably not lando, am i right?”

“fuck off daniel.” lando whined.

y/n’s jaw dropped. “that’s daniel fucking ricciardo.” she got to her feet, extending her hand for daniel to shake before hastily introducing herself.

“where have you been hiding her, lando? why hasn’t she come to any races yet?”

“she never asked?”

“lando never offered.” y/n countered. “i’d love to, though. if that’ okay with you.”

lando’s cheeks went pink, and he averted his eyes from daniel and y/n. “yeah, i’ll call zak in the morning and see what we can do.”

daniel tossed him the keys. “don’t do anything that i wouldn’t do, kid. and for the love of god, use protection. nobody wants a baby lando running around!”

“DANIEL!”

“alright, i’m leaving!”

the third time

miami 2022.

the inaugural miami grand prix was a big deal. so naturally that was the race lando insisted y/n join him for. she had already been to three more low-key events, but lando insisted that y/n needed to be in miami.

they had flown in five days before, and had spent their time alternating between disney world, universal studios, the beach and the king sized bed in the villa mclaren had rented for their drivers and crew.

“good luck, rock star.” y/n grinned, pressing a kiss to lando’s lips before zak ushered the young driver into his car. as he ran across the garage with his helmet in his hand, lando threw y/n a thumbs up and blew her another kiss.

she was wearing another halter top, this one in mclaren’s signature papaya orange, and much to lewis and george’s dismay, the ball cap on her head had been replaced with a mclaren cap. the bell-bottom jeans she wore were lando’s favorite: he thought they made her thighs look incredible and had already bent her over the massage table in his driver’s room while the w series race was happening.

everything seemed to be going fine. it was still early on in the race and lando was in a good spot. 

and then pierre gasly’s alphatauri went into the back of lando’s bright orange mclaren, sending him spinning out.

“lando!” y/n shouted, heart leaping out of her chest. she was sitting in the garage with the mechanics, and each one looked more nervous than the last.

the crash was messy, and the car had basically been totalled, one stray tyre spinning off into the barrier.

“i-is he okay?” y/n stuttered, playing with her hands.

the garage was silent, waiting for lando to respond.

“i’m okay!” the brit’s voice rang out through the garage. “i’m okay, guys! tell y/n that i am okay!”

she thought her knees were going to give way from relief as she exhaled, grabbing on to the back of a folding chair for extra support.

she monitored the safety car’s progress as the aston martin car carried lando back to the garage. her legs were still shaking, and one of the mechanics had offered up his chair so she could sit down.

when lando walked back into the garage, y/n was on her feet in an instant, running over to the mclaren driver and throwing her arms around him, not caring about the fact that his body was literally drenched in sweat.

“i’m so glad you’re okay.”

lando inhaled deeply, savouring every iota of her scent as he held her close, burying his head in her neck.

“i love you so much. i’m never gonna leave you, i promise.”

the fourth time

traditionally, the last race of the season happened in abu dhabi, and this year was no different.

but lando norris planned to make it different.

y/n had travelled with him, and the morning after the world title was awarded, they hopped on mclaren’s private plane and left the country. lando had spent months planning this, with daniel and carlos’ help. y/n didn’t know where the plane was going, lando had kept it a surprise.

lando had booked a private villa in saint tropez for the first two weeks of the off-season, before his return to england was mandatory.

he had a two week buffer period in case he chickened out the first time.

the first night, lando insisted on dinner at a quaint seaside restaurant by candlelight. he spent as much of the meal as he could holding on to y/n’s hand. he couldn’t get enough of her smile, her laugh, the feeling of her tiny hands in his.

she looked like an angel in a white strapless sundress, a small floral bandana over her short hair.

it was now or never, and if he chickened out, daniel would never let him hear the end of it.

“y/n, can i ask you something?” his knee was bouncing like crazy, just shy of bumping into the cast iron table.

she had her head cradled in her spare hand, bright smile on her face as she ran the pad of her thumb over lando’s knuckles. “fire away, baby.”

the mclaren driver took a deep breath. “remember in miami when i promised that i was never going to leave you?’

she nodded, a confused look clouding her eyes.

“well...” lando took another deep breath and got to his feet, taking y/n’s hand in his before sinking down to one knee. “i meant every word. i don’t want to spend another day without you by my side.”

y/n couldn’t believe it, jaw hanging open in shock as lando pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“will you do me the honor of letting me become your husband?”

“yes, lando! a thousand times yes!”