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silvertonqued · 2 years

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♡ ◞ ⠀⠀⠀⠀serkan cayoglu. thirty-seven. cis man. he/him.⠀ — hold your f*** horses ! emre kilic has just been spotted walking into revolution headquarters. they are best known for being the label’s resident senior pr manager and have been working with the label for eight years. they share a lot of interesting things about life in the music industry on their social media, so make sure you don’t forget to follow them at @emrekilic. the office knows them for being austere but i swear they’ve got a altruistic side as well. maybe that explains why they’re always associated with magnets pinning children’s drawings and to do lists to the fridge door, muted sounds of typing long after works hours have ended, always cleaning up other people’s messes. their coworkers even voted them most likely to leave your text messages on read. we’ll see how they live up to that reputation.

♡ ◞ statistics.

full name: emre kilic. nickname: doesn’t respond (well) to any nicknames. date of birth: january 6th, 1986 (37 yrs). zodiac sign: capricorn. place of birth: manchester, united kingdom. current location: new york city, new york. gender: cis man, uses he / him pronouns. sexuality: bisexual. languages: english (native), turkish (native).

♡ ◞ bits and bops.

character tropes: the tenacious, the workaholic, the catalyst, the savant. traits: austere, meticulous, altruistic, conscientious, grumpy, dependable, nurturing, overcritical, reticent, ambitious, family-oriented, finicky. habits: rubbing at his chin when deep in thought, believing he always knows what’s best, only drinking his morning coffee out of the best dad mug he got from his daughter on father’s day, always dressing a bit too nice for the occasion, leaving the office last, overly organizing his work with post it notes and folders, keeping his email inbox at zero unread emails at the end of every work day, going for a sunday morning runs with his dog. likes: spending time with his daughter, the smell of fresh laundry, honesty, the feeling of success, nicely organized desk spaces, the taste of a strong espresso in the morning, football, well-fitted suits, comfortable silences, family, long hikes before sunrise, rock climbing and bouldering, whiskey on the rocks, cuddles on the couch, routine, seventies music played on vinyl, reading the newspaper, nature documentaries, meal prepping, private displays of affection. dislikes: small confined spaces, public transport in the city, social media, cluttered spaces, fickle people, surprises, people who lie by omission, his ex, horror movies, crinkled buttoned shirts, cereal as breakfast, bubblegum, being late or others being late, elevators, losing control of a situation, patterned socks. notable skills: exceptional memory, reading people, repairing things around the house, ambidexterity.

♡ ◞ background.

born and raised in manchester, england. emre is the eldest child of the family & only man of the bunch, growing up with three younger sisters respectively named gamze, bahar and beyza. one can only imagine how that must’ve been — surrounded by bustling sounds of three squabbling sisters, who seemed to go from loving to hating each other as well as emre in the span of mere minutes sometimes. but if their parents taught them one thing, it would have been the importance of family. of sticking by the people you love unconditionally, supporting them through each of their ventures, and forgiving and forgetting the minor disputes. as you would presume, growing up with three sisters brought out a particularly overbearing side of emre — he has always been endlessly protective of all three of them, maybe a little too protective for their own good sometimes. he was looking out for them even when they didn’t particularly need it. but equally being the first person to stand in their corner, to solve the problems they couldn’t oversee themselves, to make sure no harm would come to them. even when it came to deceiving their own parents if one of them managed to ruin the living room carpet by spilling their drink or failing an important exam in school. admittedly, he has a specific soft spot for his youngest sister who really can’t do any wrong in his eyes. growing up, he naturally grew into the big brother role within every aspect of his life. independent but dependable, never needing anything but always being there if someone else needed something. like working his first part time jobs & buying his sisters back to school supplies or a new outfit for their first day back to school out of pocket. but it equally translated to every single other part of his life. he was easily the most natural candidate for captain of his local football team, often finding himself naturally taking on too much responsibility for the wellbeing of friends, family and even strangers alike. and god knows how many times he got roped into other people’s bad ideas, much to his own dismay, all of them knowing if there was one person who knew the right excuse to get them out of the ensuing mess, it would have been emre. perhaps partially thanks to easily trusted big brown eyes as well. knowing how to clean up other people’s messes so particularly well, it is no surprise how he ended up choosing to pursue a joint degree in marketing & communications and found himself gravitating towards the field of public relations. upon graduating college, he bagged himself a job working in marketing for the manchester department of the bbc where he climbed the corporate ladder for six years — until he grew tired of it. desperately needing a change of pace, it seemed as if a job offer from revolution records appeared at exactly the right time. it was a referral from an old classmate that led the record label to him specifically, in dire need of a public relations agent able to start within the coming month. the only thing holding him back was the idea of moving across the atlantic. after all, family was the most important thing & the idea of leaving behind three younger sisters, on the brink of adulthood and seemingly unable to take care of themselves in the eyes of their older brother, was a concerning thought. but with some convincing, he did end up taking the offer, packing his bags and moving to new york city within the span of a month. new york city was not just the change of pace he was looking for, but an entire overhaul to his life. having never truly been alone in a place so unfamiliar to him, life in the city & working at revolution needed time to start feeling natural. what perhaps contributed to this idea of an overhaul of life, was the blossoming relationship between him and a coworker not long after his move, eventually leading to an unexpected pregnancy & the birth of his now five year old daughter ayla. becoming a father had not been in the cards for the foreseeable future, but he would no longer change a single thing about the course of events. to say he dotes on her even more than he did his younger sisters is an understatement. complicating the experience is the rocky relationship with the mother of his child, as the end of the relationship left the dynamic between them rather sour. the two are coparenting and attempt to stay civil for the sake of their daughter, but it is questionable whether they can put aside their own selfish feelings forever.

♡ ◞ personality.

has a bit of a reputation for being grumpy — and fairly so, if we are honest with ourselves. not the biggest ray of sunshine, seemingly has a permanent frown plastered onto his face & is more than a little uptight. he always means well but deals with the stupidity of way too many people on a daily basis. huge problem solver, and is very meticulous in the way he approaches things in life. pays excessive attention to detail, always plans ahead, and rarely gets surprised. admittedly, this applies not only to his job but equally to every other problem that presents itself to him, from existential crises to a broken dishwasher. there is probably way too many to do lists pinned to his fridge door, probably has one of those planners for to do lists and grocery store shopping lists and whatnot in the house. holds himself to very high standards in life, but equally lets that impact the standards he often enforces on others. he’s often critical of himself but also the work others do, how they present himself, or how they treat him. one of the standards and values he holds very dear is openness and honesty — he always vouches to be as forthright as he is allowed to be, and dishonesty or not telling the full story will really impact how he feels about you and the respect he has for you. after all, he’s willing to stick his foot out for anyone and he feels the bare minimum he deserves in return is honesty. this is also a big policy he applies at work, doesn’t appreciate artists holding back when he is trying to put out their fires & that particular situation has often been the cause of friction, and earning him a reputation of being particularly stern and rigid. but no one can deny he does his job well. slightly surprisingly to those that do not know him well, he is really nurturing & often finds himself wanting to care for those around him. anyone that reminds him of his younger sisters has him returning straight to the overbearing older brother figure. he is also quite affectionate especially with his daughter, but also with close friends and other family. often puts his own needs aside for others he cares about, and does so willingly and without second thought. most important of all, has a dog — she’s a now two year old rottweiler going by the name bean and she’s the most adorable thing. basically his best friend, keeps him company on the quiet nights when his daughter is with her mother & his go to partner for morning runs every single sunday. and he will bring her around the office quite regularly, so if anyone wants to hang out with her they’re always more than welcome. her love and friendship can be bought with treats & basically any and all kinds of food.

♡ ◞ plots.

i would put ideas here but my head is empty it is 2:30 in the morning so we’ll just brainstorm and plot and i will put any thoughts into our dms <3

#revolution.intro #it took 84 years ... but we're finally here!#he is very new so this is very much shorter and less in depth than rory and addie but maybe i'll add thoughts and ideas over time <3

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thelionandtheeagle · 1 year

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Re: Knight Terrors - Robin #2

There is so much here I could talk about, it's hard to even pick/ decide where to start. I guess I'll just say this up front: I really didn't like the first issue, and while I still have some minor gripes with this second one, it was overarchingly damn good and I'm ridiculously excited that Tim and Jason were finally allowed again to have an interaction that makes sense for them, given their past history. It's been 84 years I swear.

Now without further ado:

The way they see themselves and each other.

This excerpt goes perfectly with a different post I was working on, talking about what happened at Titans Tower.

(Jason narrating, referring to Tim; Teen Titans 2003 #29)

Tim chronically suffers from imposter syndrome. He's constantly doubting himself. But Jason has always believed, known, that Tim is good at what he does. And over time his conviction in regards to it has only grown stronger. Jason's high opinion of Tim's capabilities is actually part of the reason he was so hurt about being "replaced" by Tim, specifically.

(Jason talking to Tim during Robin War; Red Hood/Arsenal 2015 #7)

Jason has always seen Tim as better than himself. All the while Tim has struggled to feel capable of living up to Jason's legacy. But Tim still took up the mantle because he cared and he had to try. And Jason recognizes that.

(Tim talking at a portrait of Jason, Secret Origins 2014 #3)

(Red Hood/Arsenal 2015 #37)

(Red Hood and the Outlaws 2011 #8)

In summary for this section: Tim and Jason tend to think lowly of themselves, but highly of each other. There's mutual respect and understanding. That's at the very core of their relationship and Knight Terrors showcases that beautifully.

Another great thing about their dynamic that gets shown off in this issue is that they make a damn good team and enjoy working together.

throughout the issue

(Tim narrating, Teen Titans 2011 #16)

(We are Robin 2015 #7)

Last but not least, we get some delightfully, painfully, tender moments.

Jason wishes for someone to count on. And Tim is right there for him. Which gets heavily doubled down on at the end of the issue:

Tim is always ready to work with Jason, to lend a hand, to be there for him-

- and Jason trusts Tim with his life.

Which, speaking of life...

After waking up, Jason tries to get in contact with Tim and when he can't, we see how devastate he is, thinking something went wrong. Ouch.

In conclusion: I was worried going in, with DC's track record lately, but I can happily say I was beyond pleasantly surprised. This feels like a return to form, and I pray we'll get more content featuring these two in the near future. If you haven't checked it out yourself yet, I highly recommend reading this issue.

Thanks for listening <3 I know this was a lot hah

#jaytim #Knight Terrors #spoilers #meta #my stuff #long post #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Finn's Meta Posts

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jo-harrington · 2 years

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Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 1)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love--some crushes at least, Babysitter Steve, No Upside Down means slightly still King Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, no smut in Part 1 but liable to be in other chapters

Note: After a very hot and fast suggestion by @shiftingtherain, this mini-series was born. And instead of working on Store Manager Verse like I wanted to, here we are. This part is a little shorter...it's the intro, sue me. Next few parts will be a tad longer.

Credit for the header partially goes to me for the design and the logistics but I was tired, so I may have borrowed gifs from @emziess and Netflix itself as a jumping off point (with permission from Emzies and Netflix is a corporation so they can rot). I can only do so much guys, I also had to write this thing too.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If Eddie never saw Steve Harrington again in his life, it would still be too soon.

He didn't always indulge in rentals from Family Video—if it was too cold and wet to have band practice in Gareth's garage, or if he was having an especially bad week at school, or if he needed something a little more realistic than the illustrations of Heavy Metal magazine to help him satisfy his needs—but today just had that special feel to it.

He'd gotten a B on his math test, Rick had been feeling a little under the weather and let Eddie make the rounds to his usuals for a sweet little cut, and he had found a dusty old book about alchemy and occultism at the library that was going to help him put the finishing touches on tomorrow night's Hellfire session.

For all of that, Eddie thought a little reward was in order.

A little Dark Crystal, a little pizza from Lou's, a little weed...he'd be having the best Thursday night.

Except...

For the past twenty minutes, he'd pretended to hem and haw over the selection of movies just so he could glare across the store at the counter, where Steve stood, flirting and making grandiose promises, with you.

He burned with jealousy, and God, it took almost everything in him not to gag as Steve reached across the counter to slyly hold your hand. And everything else for his heart not to break as you just let it happen.

Eddie didn't know how or when or why this started—when Harrington had gotten his claws into you and how he had managed to charm his way into your heart—when it should have been Eddie instead.

Eddie'd had a crush on you for years but had always been too nervous to do anything about it.

You were a year younger than him, and friends with his pal Mickey's younger sister, so he'd seen you around quite a bit. Smart and funny and pretty; maybe not as unpopular as Eddie was, but certainly not in the running for homecoming court or whatever other social hierarchies were in place at Hawkins High either. He figured...you know, maybe once he got to senior year he'd get the courage. Maybe take you to prom or something; who wouldn't want to go out with a senior?

But he'd gotten the notice from Higgins that he wouldn't be graduating with the rest of the Class of '84 and it really put a damper on his plans.

He had been hopeful again the following year, actually had a few classes with you and sat with you for partner work when no one else wanted to work with him, when they laughed at him. You weren't even afraid to go up to him in the cafeteria to ask a question, or walk with him in the hall if you had to go in the same direction for your next class. You'd talk about assignments mostly, but he savored every little fact he could learn about you. What books you'd been reading, the fact that you watched Svengoolie on Saturday nights—just like he did—or that you'd had some squabble with Mickey's sister over a scrunchie of all things and were no longer speaking.

But Eddie knew how bad his grades were—somehow even worse than the year before—and aside from the work you did with him, he knew it wasn't gonna be enough for him to graduate. So he wasn't gonna put himself in the position for you to laugh in his face—not that you would but...just in case you did—by asking you out.

He thought you would disappear from his life after you graduated. Get the hell out of Hawkins the way everyone else wanted to. But no. You took a few classes at the community college and worked the dinner shift at Benny's a few nights a week. You'd been there every Tuesday night, when he and the guys grabbed food after their gig at the Hideout. The usual booth reserved, drinks already poured by the time they sat down, and their usual orders already written in your little order pad.

You usually gave him extra whipped cream on his slice of cherry pie too.

The guys always urged him to ask for your number...but he never did. How could he? Even if you were stuck in this town the same way he was...he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

And now...here you were, listening to Harrington talk about some great surprise he had planned for your third date the next day.

Eddie wondered why you hadn't screamed in outrage when Steve mentioned how much Nancy Wheeler had liked it when he took her to this mystery place. He would have definitely expected you to at least flinch at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"It sounds really great," you said instead, smiling and nodding. "I get out of class at 3 on Fridays...should I be here around 4?"

"4 is perfect, honey," Steve grinned.

Eddie couldn't stand to hear whatever sickeningly sweet goodbye you both would come up with so he just grabbed whatever tape was in front of him and approached the counter. You and Steve both flinched when Eddie slammed his selections down on the counter to be checked out.

“Uh…I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye Steve,” you muttered, eyeing Eddie with a half-smile that felt a bit sad. “Bye Eddie.”

"Bye honey."

“Bye honey,” Eddie mocked once you were out the door, then turned back to Steve. “You gonna try and make goo goo eyes at me next Harrington? I don’t have all day.”

“Jesus Munson. What’s up your ass?” Steve scoffed, grabbing the tapes.

“I’m just trying to get my videos and go.” Eddie rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Not really interested in the kind of customer service you're trying to provide."

Steve wondered what the likelihood of getting fired would be, if he just punched that smug look right off of Munson's face.

Keith hated the guy too, he always left the Adult section looking like a mess. Maybe Steve would get a promotion instead.

For years Eddie roamed around Hawkins being a general menace with his gaggle of friends. Causing trouble, shouting at people, making faces at old ladies. He’d gotten “taken in” to the police station one too many times but always seemed to make it out without actually being arrested. Which baffled Steve; Eddie was a drug dealer for crying out loud.

And yeah, Steve had even asked him to come and deal at a party or two but…people like that were bad. Simple as that.

Even after all of that, after you got past the “bad boy” persona….he was a fucking nerd. He wasn’t even cool like the bad boys in movies were. Steve felt like someone was tricking him the first time he had walked past the Hellfire Club’s table in the cafeteria. For all the leather and chains and band tees—all the talk of satanic rituals and blood sacrifices—there was sure a lot of talk about elves and…and bards and Star Wars.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Steve that the kids would flock to Eddie by the time they made it to Hawkins High.

But it had been. A huge shock.

His unexpected little gaggle of morons…weren’t really his anymore.

Steve had dropped Dustin off on the first day of school and said “don’t get into any trouble.” Even made Robin promise to keep an eye out for him. He expected the kid to…join the mathletes or something. Get roped in with the science nerds.

But by the end of the week, the kids were all clamoring about how they would need to reschedule movie nights with Steve so they could go to Hellfire club with Eddie.

Steve couldn’t understand it. Eddie was a freak, a punk, some good for nothing…and now the kids were suddenly following him like he was some sort of prophet. Spreading the word of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

See? Steve could do the nerd talk too when he wanted...thanks to Dustin.

Who, much to Steve's annoyance, was apparently Eddie's biggest fan. The guy could do no wrong in Dustin's eyes, and it really irked Steve.

Will and Lucas were spending Saturdays at the library—not for homework, but for research because apparently Eddie really liked incorporating mythology into his campaigns. (Whatever that meant.) Mike was growing his hair out because "Eddie's hair was cool.” What about Steve, whose literal nickname was The Hair? Shit, he'd even seen Eddie give Max a ride to school on a few occasions when he was late dropping Robin off. And he knew Max and her mom had been having a hard time since her step-dad skipped town and Billy...

Steve knew some of the town gossip about Eddie was just a bunch of bullshit...but if Max Mayfield was cool with him?

Yeah, he just couldn't help but be suspicious of the guy.

Regardless, the sooner Steve could get him out of the store, the better his night was gonna get.

...actually...

"That's gonna be $10." Steve announced dryly.

"Woah, $10?!" Eddie scoffed. "I have a membership."

"Since when?" Steve asked, hands immediately landing on his hips.

"I use one every time I'm in here."

"Yeah you use Reefer Rick's."

"So?"

"New policy," Steve lied, hoping it would get Eddie out of his hair for a good while. "No sharing memberships outside of your family. Last I checked, your last name isn't Lipton. So you either cough up the $25 for a new membership Munson, or the $10 for your rental. What's it gonna be?"

Eddie grumbled and dug his wallet out of his pocket, slamming the money on the counter.

"Any candy?" Steve asked mockingly before grabbing the cash.

Eddie grabbed the tape and grumbled under his breath as he exited the store.

Yeah, Steve wasn't gonna be dealing with him any time soon.

For a second though, as he went to start processing returns, he wondered...

If Eddie was in some ritualistic cult...what kind of curse could he possibly put on me?

But that was a dumb thought to have.

Eddie's night just went down hill from the minute he left Family Video.

He didn't notice that they'd given him the wrong pizza at Lou's so now he was stuck with some specialty veggie pie with broccoli on it, the tape he had grabbed indiscriminately had been some artsy foreign romance crap, and just now he'd just spilled Dr. Pepper all over his Hellfire notebook.

"Fuck," he shouted as it spilled over the side of the coffee table and onto his sock-clad feet. He couldn't give a shit about the carpet, he could even ignore his wet socks, but his notebook. Weeks of work, planning and toiling over the most sadistic campaign.

He liked to keep all of the notes of Hellfire's completed campaigns, a sort of...record for future kids to look back on and reference. And now this specific masterpiece would be lost to memory.

He cleaned everything up as best he could before making a quick trip back to his room for an extra notebook or something he could use to salvage his plans for tomorrow's session. He had always been really bad at...keeping spare notebooks on hand. Even the ones he'd used for class always ended up covered in his drawings or notes, little bits and ideas of dialogue he could use for speeches or NPCs.

The best he could find was his math notebook from last year which, surprisingly, sat relatively untouched.

Eddie knew why: that was a class he shared with you. And as he opened to some random mostly-empty page, he saw his little scribbles in the margins surrounding half-faded, penciled-in algebraic equations. Daggers and hearts and his and your initials intertwined together.

It was the one class where he would never encounter partner work with you, so he felt compelled to fill the pages with his daydreams instead of fantasies and lore. You would never see it.

"Well," he huffed as he dropped back down onto the floor and slapped the notebook onto the coffee table. He grabbed his pen and scribbled over the drawings on the page. "Now that she's with Harrington, no use living in this fantasy. Fuck, I was stupid, so stupid to ever think she would want anything to do with me."

He grabbed the dusty old alchemical book from the library and found his place, staring at old sigils and runes and text indiscriminately until he came upon one that looked too perfect for the campaign. Concentric circles, arcane lettering, angular lines...

While Eddie would usually use a clean page for something like this—something he would hand off to his players—he drew a copy of the sigil onto the page and planned to rip the edges off, maybe singe them with his lighter to make it look more authentic.

He kept staring at the still-noticeable doodles beneath the pen scribbles and his heart ached a little in his chest.

Yeah, he would definitely want to burn those too.

By the time he was done copying the sigil, a wave of exhaustion overtook him and he glanced down at his watch.

It wasn't much later than he usually went to bed on a weeknight...

He stared at the half-ruined notes for tomorrow's session that he still needed to rewrite and sighed.

"Fuck it, I'll just redo them in the morning." He got up and stretched his arms over his head. "I can just sleep in tomorrow. Skip class. Show up for Hellfire. Who cares anymore.”

He put the rest of the pizza in the fridge for Wayne and then headed to bed, only to be plagued with dreams of scribbled out love hearts, movie theater candy, guitar solos, and big red gum.

When Eddie woke up the next morning, he felt...honestly felt like he was floating on a cloud. Every muscle in his body felt looser, yet somehow tighter at the same time. His skin felt tighter, like it wasn't right, like it didn't fit somehow, it was suffocating him.

He must have died but he wasn't quite sure if this was heaven or hell.

His eyes burned and blurred slightly as he opened them and what he saw was...unexpected.

Gone were the off-white walls, his posters, the piles of his crap, and that concerning patch of probably-mold in the corner of the ceiling. Instead there was a sturdy ceiling, plaid-papered walls, and matching curtains?

Eddie groaned and rolled over.

What the fuck was this place?

There was a slam of a door somewhere that practically shook the walls surrounding Eddie and as he sat up, he found himself only wearing...briefs? He didn't wear briefs.

This wasn’t his bed, wasn’t his room…wasn’t his… body?

He looked down at his chest, his arms, his hands…his fingers weren’t right, he didn’t have this many freckles and moles, he didn’t have…abs, if that’s what you could call the slight definition on his torso. Still it was more than his body had ever had. His skin…was itchy and mostly hairless.

Eddie reached up and touches his hair—shorter than he was used to, not curly…at all—then his face, as if that was any indicator to what he—

“A mirror!” He exclaimed. His voice…sounded familiar, but different. Fuck what kind of dream was this?

Because it had to be a dream right? It had to be. How else did he wake up in someone else’s body?

He pushed himself out of the bed, walking slightly off-cadence, which…yeah probably came with the territory of your brain needing to get used to a new body. Fuck…was his brain even his brain or did his mind just get transported what was happening?

Ugh it was too early to think about that.

Eddie slowly cracked the bedroom door open and peaked into the rest of the house. He spotted a bathroom just across the way, otherwise…shit, this place actually looked a little familiar. Where the fuck was he? Who the fuck was he?

He quickly crossed the landing into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He heaved a breath and leaned back against the door for a moment to calm himself; his hands were shaking and felt cold. Could he even feel his fingers? Nice to know the occasional nervousness that snuck up on him at his lowest moments hadn’t been left behind in his old body, that they’d followed him to this one.

His body…would it still be in his bed? What if he really had died and…had jumped into his new body? Was this reincarnation?

Fuck, if he was dead…Wayne would find him. Could he even…see his uncle again? How could he ever explain who he was?

Eddie felt the tears prick his eyes and his throat tighten and he slapped his face a few times.

“Come on man, come on,” he muttered. “It’s not that bad. It’s only…mildly awful. Fuck, ok. Just go, just look, just…rip it off like a bandaid.”

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded, then crossed the short distance to stand in front of the sink. He stared at his new feet, wiggled his new toes. You never…appreciated the toes you had until you have new ones.

That was awful and you’re an idiot. Just look.

Eddie closed his eyes again and turned his face up towards the mirror. He could do it. He would do it.

He opened his eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Steve woke up feeling like absolute shit. Everything ached—like he had pulled a muscle or something by sleeping crookedly—he had awful cottonmouth, and he had inhaled…some yarn or something because he woke up coughing and gagging until he got the intrusive strands out of his mouth.

“Gahh, shit, shit,” he said and scratched at his throat. He sounded hoarse. Ugh was he getting sick? He’d have to ask his mom to bring home some soup or something.

Could he call out of work? Shit he had to take Robin to school. She could walk today, he felt awful.

Steve blinked his eyes open and took in the unfamiliar popcorn ceiling with growing concern.

He looked around at the…piles of garbage and the cracks in the plaster walls partially covered by band posters...and felt the rise of panic grow within him. He tried to recall the night before.

He’d wrapped up his shift at Family Video, gone home and had a rare dinner with both of his parents, then…felt extremely tired and went to bed.

So how did he end up here…wherever here was?

This was a kidnapping; it had to be. He was…drugged—explained the cottonmouth—and kidnapped. And now someone was holding him for ransom or something to…blackmail his father? Thomas Harrington was kind of a dick sometimes, sure, but still…he was a pretty decent guy. Who would want to blackmail him?

“H-hello?” Steve called out. “Anyone there? C-can anyone hear me?”

There was some shuffling outside of the door of the room.

Thankfully Steve wasn’t tied up or anything. God, what kind of kidnappers were these? He quickly glanced around the room for a weapon of some sort and he immediately spotted...

A guitar? A few guitars actually. Man these kidnappers really liked music huh?

One was a weird shape--he'd seen some hair metal bands use guitars like that in magazines, but he'd never seen one in person--and was a mottled red color. One was just what you'd expect when someone said "electric guitar." And one was acoustic and looked like it could pack a real wallop.

Bingo.

Steve pushed himself out of the bed and immediately jumped because whatever had been in his mouth was on his shoulders now. He reached up to grab it: hair. Long, wavy, messy...knotty and frizzy. Like it hadn't been brushed for days, maybe weeks?

And his arm, sticking out from whatever t-shirt he'd been put in...was lithe and weak and there were tattoos. On both arms. A creepy claw hand and a bunch of bats.

What was this? How long had they held him hostage for? No wonder they didn't feel the need to tie him up! He'd been knocked out cold.

He needed to get out of here. Now. He needed to get home.

Steve crossed the room to grab the guitar when he noticed it. At first he thought it was another person. But no, it was just a mirror...and in the mirror...his reflection.

Only it wasn't...his reflection.

It had startled him and he had jumped. Then he moved his arms a little and watched the figure in the mirror mimic him. Over and over.

A wave, a turn, a funny face.

He couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke. A dream. A nightmare.

Because it was him, his reflection. But it was not his—Steve Harrington’s—reflection.

It was Eddie Munson's.

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson stranger things #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington stranger things #Eddie and steve #stranger things fic #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #Steve Harrington imagine

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distorted59 · 1 year

Note

I need Danish Gremlin Lars headcanons so bad right now plsssss

Hi!!! first of all, I'm sorry it took a little while, hope you enjoy!! <3 and again, thanks for asking!

Loves it when you play with his hands! we all know this man has incredible hands, esp with all that tape around his fingers, lord have mercy.

Would absolutely love to teach you to play the drums

He WOULD tease you with his drumsticks, i fucking know it, this man is a kinky mf.

Like, he would slide one over the inside of your thigh and the other one over your neck and breasts.

THE TAPE AROUND HIS FINGERS STAYS ON!!! (need i say more)

He’d whisper sweet things to you in Danish, whenever he’s proud of you or when he tells you he loves you.

ALSO, during sex???? and he’d go all crazy cus it all just feels so, so good???

I feel like he’s quite dominant, maybe in his early years (‘81-‘84) he’d be a little bendable (not literally, but who knows?). But, in the 90’s he’d be FERAL.

Like I said earlier, I feel like he’s a kinky mf. Exhibitionism, he likes to get freaky in public. He loves getting praised, he wants to hear how good he is at something. Pleasing you, playing drums, cooking, mowing the fucking lawn. He doesn’t mind, please fulfill his ego.

Small dick, but the energy is BIG.

Has stamina for DAYZZZZ!!!

He would fuck you on his drumset, i can just imagine him eating you out and hitting the kickdrum while doing so. (IM SORRY I HAD TO)

I feel like early 80’s Lars is a real sweetheart, maybe still a little shy but definitely runs his mouth. 90’s Lars has no fucking filter, he’s cocky, arrogant, gets whatever he wants and takes whatever he wants.

Loves to just be around you, showing you he’s here. You’d watch him and the boys rehearse and he would squeeze your hand or your thigh, flashing you small smiles and giving you kisses here and there.

“You still with us, darling?” He squeezes your thigh, smiling with those adorable dimples of his.

"Hm?" You dozed off a little, but his fingers sliding to the inside of your thigh keep you very awake.

“Are you enjoying watching us, babe?” Lars grins.

“Oh, yeah.” You nod. “You’re doing great, baby.”

“You think so?” He smirks proudly, his fingers tracing circles over your soft skin. “You like watching me play?”

“Mhm.” You hum and smile down at his hand. Already knowing what you two will be doing later.

He would take you to Denmark, showing you his hometown and places he went to as a kid. His childhood home (which is now a fertility clinic I believe, lol) and his school, where he played tennis as a boy.

He loves art so he would take you on little museum trips and years later to these auctions where he would sell the pieces from his home for millions of dollars, (SKOM docu).

Loves bragging to people about you. “My girl is great, she’s the prettiest woman i know.” and "Well, my girl loves playing the drums with me." <3

You know those bandanas he wore in the 80’s? Yeah, tying your wrists up with them or putting it in your mouth to prevent you from moaning too loud <3.

He is a little fruity tho. (so threesome with Kirk maybe? yes/no?)

Load/Reload era, this man wore some heavy eyeliner. I can see him asking you for a little help.

He’s in the bathroom, trying to figure out what the fuck to do here.

“Babe, could you help me out here?” He holds up the pencil and gives you puppy dog eyes.

“With what, baby?” you walk into the bathroom and look at him, slight confusion written over your face. “Is that my eyeliner?”

“It’s for the new album!” He protests. “We got a new look, ya know?”

“What, cutting your hair wasn’t enough?” You tease him and sit on the sink counter.

You take the eyeliner from his hands and pull him closer by his shirt, you wrap your legs around his waist and make him look at you by holding his chin.

“Okay, close your eyes.”

He obliges and you softly apply the liner just above his lash line. He squints a little and breathes out through his nose.

“Don’t move, baby.” You scold him.

“Sorry, It feels a little weird.” a wide smile spreads on his face.

“Look up for me.”

He does what he tells you, looking at you before he looks up entirely. You apply some under his waterline, smudging the edges gently with your fingers.

“All done, babe.” You kiss his lips softly.

He smiles into the kiss and murmurs a “thank you” against your lips. He checks himself out in the mirror behind you and grins.

“Wow, I look sexy!”

“Larzy Poo” - James Hetfield, 2023

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zrroz · 5 months

Text

𝝑𝝔 . SHIP NAME .. SEUNGCHEOL + ASTUSHI ( SEUNGSHI ) 𝝑𝝔 . POPULARITY .. 84% 𝝑𝝔 . HOW CLOSE ARE THEY .. 91%

"you're like ancient.." "i'm a year older than you."

atsushi is the number one seungcheol hater and enemy, he is so against that man and for no reason at all. it's all jokes of course but carats often say atsushi was placed on earth to just to keep seungcheol humble and he surely does his job.

seungcheol will be smiling and being all happy and here comes atsushi saying the most insane things towards him and seungcheol's smile will just instantly drain from his face as he makes direct eye contact with the camera.

of course though since it's all jokes, atsushi respects seungcheol a lot. he knows it must be hard being a leader especially when seungcheol has to take care of thirteen other people and though atsushi doesn't often make the job easier, he'll try to help out here and there.

𝝑𝝔 . SHIP NAME .. JEONGHAN + ATSUSHI ( HANTSU ) 𝝑𝝔 . POPULARITY .. 94% 𝝑𝝔 . HOW CLOSE ARE THEY .. 93%

"guys he wasn't cheating, it clearly wasn't in the rule." "exactly!"

practically chaos siblings. at first atsushi took every chance he had to call out jeonghan's cheating or way of twisting the rules but over time, jeonghan had eventually turned him into a gremlin as well.

now, jeonghan will clearly be cheating in a game and atsushi will be clearly watching him but when the other members point it out, atsushi will be like "guys??? he wasn't cheating???" and jeonghan will just be nodding and smiling proudly.

jeonghan was also one of the first trainees atsushi had met ( when he could barely speak a sentence of korean ) and so atsushi had just stared blankly at jeonghan while he was introducing himself - and they make a big deal of that even still, jeonghan gets a laugh out of it everytime.

𝝑𝝔 . SHIP NAME .. JOSHUA + ATSUSHI ( SHUATSU ) 𝝑𝝔 . POPULARITY .. 96% 𝝑𝝔 . HOW CLOSE ARE THEY .. 96%

"joshua-hyung was my savior during trainees days, and he still is! my one and only."

joshua was the first trainee atsushi had a full on conversation with - mainly because he was the only trainee he could have a conversation with at the time. when atsushi had first moved to korea and started training at hybe, he only knew the most basic korean and always felt to nervous to start conversations with the other trainees until he had met joshua.

the two of them had really gotten close easily, joshua felt like someone atsushi could rely on considering just how far away he was from home and all the hurdles he had to get over after moving to korea. joshua helped atsushi learn korean and also helped introduce him to other trainees and just overall help the younger grow out of his shell some more.

now, both of them are one of carat's favorite duos and they both have remained close through the years. atsushi still always goes to joshua first whenever he faces a hardship or struggles with something and joshua always welcomes him with open arms.

a/n : i was going to do the whole hyung line in one post but it's been a while since i've posted anything so here's the 95 liners for now </3 i'm not 100% sure when everyone became trainees so if there's ripples in the time line please turn a blind eye to it ahaha. anyways! i'll do the 96 liners soon and then the 97 liners, and the 98 liners + chan all in different post.

#⠀ ⠀ ── ⠀ ⠀ it's your golden hour ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ relationships.#kpop added member #kpop addition #seventeen added member #seventeen addition #fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #kpop oc

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kyojurismo · 1 year

Text

— SFW ALPHABET

# gyomei himejima

tags : gn!reader, sfw alphabet, fluff, not proofread.

a/n : alright guys, this the first sfw alphabet i’m doing and as you can see i decided to dedicate it to our big boy gyomei, since he really deserves more attention. next on my list are muichiro & obanai. i hope it’s not too bad or ooc lmao, i tried my best. enjoy <3

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

words of encouragement, most of the time. gyomei would compliment and praise you, showing you all his support! sometimes he would pat your head too.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

would be the one to know all the tea. i’m not kidding, he knows everything about everyone. you don’t meet him to train together, you meet to gossip.

jokes aside, you were the one to start a conversation with him. and it took him a while to open up to you, but once he did you two grew closer and closer.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

i think that gyomei would love having you sitting on his thighs, maybe a hand resting on your waist. he loves when you hug his arm tho, do it whenever you can !!!!!

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

[manga readers rn are shaking]

well, probably once this war is done. i believe so, yep. he’s pretty good at cooking and cleaning! he knows how to take care of his house and does it perfectly.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

crying. no i mean, more than usual lskdjd. would feel bad about it, like really bad, but if it’s to make sure you’ll be happier later than he would do it. he doesn’t want you to suffer because he has to fight against kibutsuji and lord knows what could happen.

F = Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

not gonna lie here, gyomei would be surprised you want to spend your life with someone like him.

would like to get married after three years, maybe? he’s already twenty seven so.. yeah.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

physically, he is always gentle with you. our boy is big af, he can’t afford hurting you in any way.

emotionally… well, at first he was a bit rough. but then he opened up and kinda accepted that you deeply care about him, so he tries his best.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

YES. hug him all the damn time. 25/8. forever if you have to. he likes receiving hugs, i’m not kidding.

he would hug you a lot too if he notices you like them. bear hugs, yes. you usually get squished (gently) between his big arms. you literally disappear every time. it’s funny.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

it’s been 84 years… no no i’m joking… unless?

alright, i’m done. gyomei would wait months before stating explicitly that he loves you. of course he would do anything to show you his love, but saying that? not happening any time soon.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

i don’t think he’s on the jealous type. but if he gets jealous of you, gyomei would lift you up with his arm and pull you away from the conversation, excusing you both with a shitty excuse.

“but gyo! i was talking,” you pout at him, trying to free yourself. “they were too close to you,” he says, acting like you were about to be taken away.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

gyo’s kisses are amazing, stunning, perfect.

gyomei likes kissing your lips, your forehead, your hands, your shoulders and your stomach.

well, i can say that he likes to be kissed anywhere? his face for sure, and he likes when you kiss his nose. gyomei would laugh when you kiss his hips tho, since it’s probably one of the few places you can reach by yourself.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

he’s very responsible and knows his way around children. would gladly spend a lot of time with kids, and would enjoy hearing you play with them too.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

i believe gyomei gets up pretty early in the morning, so he would usually stay there for a while to let you sleep peacefully. but when he gets up you start whining and trying to convince him to stay in bed. not happening any time soon… but if he didn’t had to train that much and fight demons, i’m sure he would happily spend his mornings cuddling in bed with you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

cuddling of course, he’s a big and warm and gentle bear. gyomei would usually ask about your day in general and then help you relax before going to sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

100% sure he would reveal things slowly. he opened up to you after months of knowing you, so it was really a special event.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

well… i think he’s pretty patient, he rarely get angry at you. but when he does get pissed he’s scary ngl.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he remembers a lot about you, he’s not one to forget things easily. but i believe he would categorise what things are important to remember and what not? i don’t know if that makes sense.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

when you confessed your feelings and started mentioning every little thing you like about him. it made him feel loved and special.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

man fighting demons— no i’m serious, he would do everything he can to protect you from demons, that’s his job after all.

he doesn’t really need protection, so… yeah, you’re his only priority.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

um, i think he would try his best even though it’s his first time. he tries to be as romantic and caring as he can & tries his best to remember everything.

gyomei would also do his best to help you around the house or basic tasks, he doesn’t want you to feel like a maid or something.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

[i can’t think of anything serious so well…]

he prays a lot !! like a disturbing amount of times…

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

man is blind … he just hopes he’s presentable i guess.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

i guess? okay i don’t know how to answer it, because i believe gyomei is a .. solitary person? so he’s okay with being alone, y’know? but after growing closer to you… i think he would find it difficult not having you in his life.

what i mean is, he can still go on with his life, it just feels less colourful i imagine.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

okay, since he can’t write because he’s blind (duh) and thus can’t send you letters, he usually sent you little gifts through his crow whenever he’s out on missions.

like, jewellery, flowers, sweets, etc.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

lies. he can’t stand them. never lie to him, please.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

i believe he’s a light sleeper so he easily wakes up, but would probably stay in bed anyway if it’s still night.

gyomei would exit the bedroom to reach the back garden and spend some time sitting there, but he would be back soon. he does it when he find it difficult to fall asleep and the quiet offered by nighttime helps him.

reblogs & comments are super appreciated! thank you for taking your time reading it, i hope you enjoyed it. have a good day / night <3

#📂 — writing !!#gyomei himejima x reader #gyomei himejima x you #gyomei himejima x y/n #gyomei himejima drabble #gyomei himejima blurb #gyomei himejima imagine #gyomei himejima fanfic #kny gyomei #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic

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elvendria · 2 years

Text

Clean (Formerly Love is a Battlefield)

AU Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part One

Summary:

You return to Hawkins after a few years in the middle of the night during the summer with your 4-year-old sister in tow, thinking the two of you could fly under the radar and settle in at Forest Hills Trailer Park. You thought you could get by without bumping into your old enemy, Eddie Munson, the town freak.

But you weren't always enemies, in fact, there was a time when you two were closer than anything.

Eddie dreams of making it big, you just dream of making it out of here alive.

\\enemies - lovers//

((Warning I'm not from the US, so bare with me when it comes to states and such))

tw: 18+ MINORS DNI or I will be busting kneecaps, E.D, physical abuse, child abuse, runaways, reader is 20 and Joyce's ex-step-niece, Will and Johnathan's cousin, Joyce is Queen, Wayne is King, slow burn, gambling addictions, Eddie is 20, Chrissy is the villan but we stan grace

Word Count: 3.96K

part two part three part four

May 21st 1986

You drive the back roads as much as possible, the 1970s Dodge Challenger illuminated under the moon as you try your best to drive carefully. You didn't want to wake Willow, your 4 years old sister, sleeping in the backseat. It was drizzling rain, pouring down the windshield in sheets, how very fitting.

It had been a whirlwind, a spur-of-the-moment decision. Things had gotten to be... too much, having moved to Vegas from Hawkins a few years ago for your Dad's new telemarketer job. Willow wasn't even born yet, and after she was it didn't take long for it all to go to shit.

Pleasant conversations turned into civil discussions turned into small spats turned into full-blown fisticuffs. You could handle the occasional black eye or bust lip, you were a big girl, but the second you found out that they'd laid a hand on Will you were out of there.

The summer had just begun, and you were taking care of Willow while you were both at home. It was at least 84°F, and so you changed her out of her jammies and into a loose sundress when you noticed it. A large handprint on her arm and an even larger bruise began to form in the center of her back.

"Will, what happened?" You already knew what it was, but you hoped beyond hope that you were wrong. Mom was decent enough to hit in places you could hide unless she was drunk, hence the purpling bruise under your eye. Dad was the one to smack you if you got in his way of something. Dad would slap you and not care where it landed.

"Daddy got mad at me for playing with my dollies while he watched TV. I'm sorry sissy I didn't mean to be bad." She hung her head, to which you tilted it up to look in her eyes, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill.

"Shh Willa it's okay..." You pulled her in for a hug, careful not to hold her too tight. "How about we go on a little trip, you and me? We can go for as long as you want." She was four fucking years old. She was a child. She shouldn't be worrying about getting in trouble for playing with a goddamn toy. "You can bring all your dolls with you! They can come on the trip with us."

It never took much convincing with her. You'd soon learned that she was the kind of kid who just wanted to help others, giving them her lunch and going over to someone who was sitting alone and asking if they wanted to play jump rope with her.

You shook your head no when she asked would your parents be joining the two of you, and her eyes lit up a small bit, which made your heartbreak. Your father was known for flying off the handle, a loss at the casino was enough to put him on the warpath for weeks. If he had bet on the football game and she got in his way of seeing something he considered important, it wouldn't have mattered that she was only a child. She was standing in the way of him and his money, and so she needed to be removed.

You shoved anything and everything you could into 3 duffel bags. Mostly clothes and essentials along with any cash you had saved up for college tuition. It wasn't like you were going anyways, you'd have never left Will here alone plus you missed the deadline on applications. Now you were just a high school graduate with no prospects.

You threw in a lot of snacks for the drive, it was going to be a long ride back to Hawkins and Vee could get hangry at the best of times.

And Hawkins you had landed. After spending the past three nights in different motels, hood up anytime you saw the hint of a security camera at a gas station, you finally arrived to the one place that had always been like a home away from home, to the one person who you could trust like no other. You felt guilty for knocking at this hour, especially when you remembered that it had been almost 2 years since you last spoke with her.

The porch light turned on, door swinging open with a loud creak as you cradled the sleep-drunk 4 year old on your hip, her drool pooling on your shoulder, not that you cared.

"Hi Aunt Joyce..."

Joyce was your aunt in the every way but legally. She had married your Uncle Lonnie, leaving him when she found out that her husband was a lot like his brother. Thankfully, from what you've heard through the grapevine that is your fathers derogatory comments, her sons seem to have been spared those genes.

"Y/N? Is that.. Is that you?" Her voice was bleary, dull and squinted from tiredness, and once again I felt immense amounts of guilt for waking her up at this hour. It had to be at least 3 in the morning, and here you were, a niece who hadn't contacted her in two years (not that you were allowed to) standing in her doorway, soaked to the skin from the rain.

You remember the last words she said to you, the hurried phone call as she told you Will was home safe, no longer missing. You didn't even care that your father had cut the phone call short, quite literally taking a scissors to the cord, you were that happy to hear your cousin was okay.

"Yeah I'm uh..." You'll be honest, you didn't think this far ahead. You knew where you would be living, you'd called ahead to the trailer park owner from a shady motel and told him you'd pay him a deposit tomorrow. Well, today. But you hadn't planned what you'd say to Joyce, how you'd tell her that you skipped town with your sister in an attempt to save her from the abuse back home. "I'm back home. Just us.."

That was all she needed to hear to usher you inside, her arms wrapping you in the first hug that wasn't your sisters in four years.

Telling everything to Joyce was actually a lot easier than you thought, especially when you didn't have to tell her at all. She took a good look at you and noticed the deep bruise under your eye and the small scar on your chin from where your mom had forgotten her own strength, causing you to hit the kitchen counter. It hadn't been there when you left, so it confirmed what Joyce already knew. You didn't have to utter a word for her to understand.

"I'll be moving into Forest Hills in the morning, I'm only asking for two things, and I'll make it up to you as best I can, I promise." Your eyes were pleading with her, not that they needed to be, Joyce would've done anything to help you. She saw you almost like a daughter, wanting on more than one occasion to sweep you away from them and take care of you. She'd never gotten to meet Willow, but already she was in love with the bouncy brunette curls that fell across her face as she slept in your lap, cuddled up to you on the couch like you were the only person in the world.

"I don't have a lot..." She reached into her purse, bulling out a few crumpled bills, only stopping when you put a hand on her arm and looked at her. Everything favor with your parents had to have been paid back with interest. If you needed a ride to school, you had to fill the car with gas and wash it. If you needed to borrow $5 for lunch, you had to pay back $35, all under the guise of 'this is how it is in the real world, no ones going to love you for free'. And yet here was Joyce, a woman who wasn't even technically related to you, who you hadn't spoken to in years, offering over whatever she had with no strings attached.

"I have the money, thank you though. I just..." You blinked back tears, the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness washing over you like a waterfall. You had never been great at accepting help, no clue why. It's not like you were in a transactional relationship with your parents. You stroked Willow's hair. If it weren't for her you wouldn't even be asking, you'd be determined to do this alone. But you needed stability for her, along with a steady cash income. "I need help with a job."

You saw Joyce's eyes light up, holding your hand that had been on her arm. She smiled at you, a soft gentle smile that made you feel at home again. This house had been your home away from... whatever it was you could call where you lived. You used to play board games with Johnathan at the kitchen counter, or lie on your stomach and draw pictures with Will on the floor. It all smelled the same, a thick mustiness in the air combined with a lemon cleaning product.

You stayed and talked with Joyce for a while, she told you she could secure you an interview at the local music store, and if that failed she joked about having someone on the inside at Melvalds. She hugged you goodbye, kissing the top of your head like she used to when you were a kid, standing in the doorway as you drove off, not closing it until your tail lights were out of sight.

It was early morning when you pulled up to your new home. The owner had given you a discount along with a look of pity. Usually you'd be the first to tell a person off for looking at you like that, but hey, if it got you a discount you weren't going to say no.

You parked up outside and instinctively looked across the dirt road, realizing why it felt like such a familiar drive. Right across from your trailer, where you planned on laying low for a while, was 53 Forest Hills Park.

The Munson Residence.

You swore you saw a curtain move back into place when you took Willow from the car, balancing her on your hip as you held your new key, but maybe you were imagining things, because you stood there for five more minutes to see if the door would open, and all it did was remain shut. For some reason that hurt you more than if he was to actually show his face.

Not that you wanted him to.

You brushed it off, looking down at the key before you pushed it in the lock, a little extra force was needed as it was somehow already rusty, even though he told you it was new. Not that you were going to complain. A home is a home after all. All you needed was somewhere for yourself and Ivy to rest your heads and eat food, everything after that was secondary.

You walked into the bedrooms and saw that the beds already had sheets on them, though they looked... questionable. You didn't want to run the risk of Willow or yourself being bitten by something, so you hastily undressed the beds, flipping both mattresses. It was a temporary solution until you could take them out back and beat them senseless with the sweeping brush to be a bit more certain they weren't infested.

Once again, you weren't complaining, anything was better than a motel bed where the springs threatened to burst through and stab your skin. You were really looking forward to a night where you weren't swaddled in blankets and towels to avoid being impaled.

"Here you go monkey, snug as a bug in a rug." You had put one of your hoodies on Willow, the fabric coming down to her ankles, the sleeves well past her fingertips. It looked ridiculous on her, but you didn't pack sheets because why would you think of that? You walk over to a closet in the hallway and find some relatively clean linen, pulling them out and making the beds. You'd plan a trip to a laundromat soon, you needed to wash your clothes from the journey anyways.

You pulled the blanket up to her chin, kissing between her eyebrows gently. As you went to pull away, you felt a tiny hand grab onto you, or at least attempt to. She was too tired to speak, but you knew what she meant, what she wanted you to do.

Crawling onto the bed beside her, one arm bent up behind her head as you stroked her rosy cheeks, you smiled down at her as you felt your eyes droop, growing more and more tired by the second.

"I'm here petal, I'm not leavin'." You mumbled lightly, sleep overcoming you as you lay beside her.

A few days had passed, and Willow seemed to be settling down to the idea of being here for a while. You'd been keeping an eye on the news, and there were no reports about either of you, so even though you'd been gone just over a week, you're parents hadn't reported you two missing.

You were standing in the kitchenette, having just gotten back from your first shift at the record store, a resounding success if you did say so yourself. Willa sat in the manager's office, you were going to need to find someone to look after her. Joyce had to work too, even though she told you numerous times that she could babysit.

She was sitting watching Looney Toons, giggling at something Bugs Bunny did on the TV. You looked over at her as you flipped pancakes, having only grabbed the bare essentials to make a few meals. Your paycheck was due at the end of the week, and you were planning on going grocery shopping then.

The room felt hot from the sun pouring in, the rays of light accentuating every speck of dust in the room. It filtered through the curtains, the room now a soft glow, the dark brown furnishings looking brighter. You were calm, and relaxed, setting down the plate of pancakes in front of Willow when there came a knock on the door.

Of course you were nervous, why wouldn't you be? just because they hadn't called the cops doesn't mean they hadn't figured it out for themselves. They could be standing outside, waiting to drag you both back to Nevada to be their personal punching bags. Hunching down, you stayed low as you walked, or rather crawled over to the window, peering out.

You saw what looked to be a kind but stern man standing outside holding a tupperware box. He looked vaguely familiar, like he was from a distant memory. Something about him felt safe, or at least safe enough to open the door anyways.

Pulling it open, you looked at him as his eyes widened slightly like he was surprised to see you. You stood there trying to piece where you knew him from when it finally clicked with you who was before you.

"Jesus Christ darlin', thought I was havin' a vision when I saw ya'll pull up just t'other day. Said to myself, surely Y/N Y/L/N isn't back here." Wayne's southern drawl made everything sound pleasant and inviting, and you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face. He looked different than when you last saw him, his hair was thinner and his skin was more aged, but no one would ever be able to forget the energy Wayne Munson radiated.

"Oh my god, Wayne! How are you? Come in!" You stepped back, holding the door open for him to come and sit, suddenly realizing something as your words caught in your throat. There was a chance that Wayne wasn't going to be alone, and that his nephew was going to be joining him very soon. "Is he uh... Is he going to join you?"

There was a reason you knew the drive to the trailer park so well, why you stared at the Munson trailer for a solid five minutes, afraid to blink in case you missed him, why you knew Wayne and he knew you, both acting like old friends. It's because you were. Or at least you had been with his nephew.

Eddie Munson, in all his wickedness and cruelty, had been your best and closest friend in the world. He was the first boy you ever loved, the first boy to break your heart too. No guy you met since then has ever been enough to make you forget about him.

Despite how much you wanted to.

"No no, he..." His words faltered, his eyes cast down at his hands as you placed a cup of coffee in them. The trailer wasn't much but at least it had a kettle. "I don't think he knows you're here. Y/N I really think you two should..." But you cut him off before he could finish.

"I'm sorry Wayne, but after everything he said, everything he promised and and what he did, I can't look at him right now." Mentioning him made your chest ache, and made you want to not hate him. You wondered if he'd grown his hair back, if he'd gotten any better at guitar, if he still had that tattered old copy of Lord of The Rings that you'd gotten him for his 9th birthday with your pocket money that you'd hidden away.

You twisted the ring he gave you on your finger, something you always did when you were nervous. It was a thick silver ring, with a chain pattern around the middle of it. You'll never forget what he said to you when he walked up, holding out the ring on a small chain. You were only slightly older than Willow. It also happened to be the very first thing he said to you.

"Hey! Wanna see what I have?!" He came barrelling over to you, his hand clasped around something tight. You were worried if he was going to show you a bug because surely it would be dead by now. He was a small boy with shaggy dark brown hair to match his eyes. You hadn't seen him in your grade before.

"Um.. sure?" You had been making daisy chains on the grass, taking a short break from the swings. You were gonna go back to them though, you were determined to swing so high you could see your house.

"I think it might be too big for you, but I won this at the arcade." He looked shy, nervous even. He'd been admiring the way your pigtails flowed when you soared high, and he remembered he had the ring in his pocket.

"Thank you!" You were at the age where you didn't question anything, and where someone being friendly was only that, a person being friendly. You took the necklace from him, slipping it around your neck and giggling as it swung side to side. The boy looked a little older, maybe a year? You slipped the ring over your finger, giggling as it slipped back off again, danging from the chain.

"My mom talks about growing into stuff all the time, maybe that's what you can do with that!" He looked so excited, so eager and happy and joyful before sitting down on the ground and plucking a long blade of grass, holding it between his thumbs and trying to make that noise you'd seen people do before. He kept muttering about how he almost had it even though he was nowhere near close.

You sat like that for what felt like hours before a young-looking woman called him over, walking and taking his hand. She looked so much like him, a striking resemblance between them both. He began to walk away, before breaking his grip on his mother's hand to run back and tackle you into a hug.

"I'm Eddie, see you soon!"

You told him your name, and if anyone were ever to ask you when you fell in love with Edward Munson, it would be that moment exactly.

"I understand, just... try to go easy on him okay?" He nodded his head, hands clasped around the mug. You both heard scuffles coming from the side and turned to see the mischievous brunette staring at you from over the sofa, the lower half of her face obscured.

"Where are my manners! Wayne... this is my sister Willow." Walking over, you scooped her up in your arms, her giggles warming your heart and Waynes as you sit down again with her on your knee. That was the thing about Willa, everything about her made people want to smile, and her very presence lit up the room.

"Well hello there little lady, how are you this fine afternoon." He grinned over at her, his gruff exterior giving way to that heartwarming smile you remembered from childhood.

The one thing about Willow, the one thing that you knew for certain, was that she had absolutely no filter whatsoever. She sat there for a second, ignoring Wayne's question before looking down from his receding hairline to his face.

"You have a very shiny head."

She said it with full confidence, no hesitation. You felt your face turn bright red with embarrassment. You were about to scold her, tell her that she couldn't just go around commenting on how people were bald, when you heard a loud bellowing laugh from across the table.

Looking at Wayne, he was clutching his sides as a stray tear rolled down his face. He started wheezing, which caused you to laugh, which caused Willow to laugh. Her laugh was like a lilted giggle, bouncing on your leg and hiding behind her hands as her lopsided pigtails danced around her.

"I suppose you're right, my head is rather shiny.." He chuckled further, finishing up his coffee. You sat there and talked for a few minutes, before Wayne stood up, carrying his mug to the sink, ignoring your protests claiming that you would take care of it yourself.

"I best get going, working night security at the plant, they need me over there at 7 on the dot." He reached over, playfully pretending to steal Willows nose. "Now we have to meet again so I can give this back, okay darlin'?" Willa just nodded her head and giggled, hands flying up to cup her face.

The two of you walked out to the front of the trailer, chatting away again, completely oblivious to the figure watching you from 53 Forest Hills Trailer Park. A figure with a heart that was beating a mile a minute, because there you were, after some long, excruciating years of being without you, and you were talking to his uncle like nothing was wrong.

He was still in his daze when he felt her soft hand on his bicep, pulling his focus away for a second.

"Eds, come back to bed, Wayne's left for the evening, wanna have some fun with you." He used to like the way she said his nickname, the nickname you started for him, but now it felt wrong, weird even, and he wasn't sure why.

"Sure Chris, lead the way..." He followed Chrissy into his bedroom. He knew he should be thinking of her, of his girlfriend, the prom queen and former High School Queen, but his mind still thinking of you, his mind filling with questions, but predominantly one.

"What the hell were you doing back here?"

part two part three

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

#stranger things eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things eddie #eddie stranger things #eddie smut #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie headcanons #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie the freak munson #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #enemies to lovers

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inkeddownc0ffee · 1 year

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One sided love, or is the other side just blinded?…

——— Part 1 ——— Part 2 ——— Part 3 ———

Pairing: Best friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson is the readers best friend, but Eddie is finding himself catching feelings for his girl best friend, and can’t help himself but feel jealous when he sees his crush falling for Steve “the hair” Harrington

Warnings: Mentions of drug use

Eddie Munson, your best friend ever sense you left the diapers and onto the toilets, y’all two were practically glued together, never leaving each others side, one of y’all could kill someone and the other would just help hide the body.

It was now rolling onto y’all’s third year as a seniors together, year 84, the year Eddie said would be his, well and yours.

The thing is, you were meant to be graduated already, but u couldn’t watch your best friend be left behind.

So you purposely flunked all your classes. You truly were meant to be top of the class with an amazing high school diploma in your hands with a smile on your face ready to start adult life in 81.

But here you are, 21 and still a senior, sitting on your doorstep with your backpack, waiting for Eddie’s arrival in his new van Wayne helped him get.

Your eyes were focused on the cracks on the pavement of your driveway when the gleam of the shining van covered it. You shot your head up and smiled as Eddie rolled down his window while banging his head to Master of Puppets, smirking at you.

“Hop in my passenger princess, don’t want your seat to get cold!” You laughed, Eddie always teased u with that name. You ran to the side of the van, opening the door and shoving yourself into the passenger seat, Eddie turning down the radio.

“Huh, doesn’t smell like a drug deal in here” you said sarcastically. “Couldn’t do that to the pretty princess, got it to smell like her beautiful, huge castle.” He said as he pointed at the little tree hanging from the review mirror labeled “Morning Fresh”. You rolled your eyes but chuckled.

“My house isn’t that big”

“Seriously? Not big, it’s two stories, you know how many people I would kill to live there!” Eddie said with raised eyebrows and a gaping smile. You elbowed him making him chuckle.

“Alright, Alright, I’m sorry for speaking the truth your highness.” Before you could argue, he turned his music almost full volume and left your driveway, bobbing his head and singing the words in a weird demonic tone. You couldn’t help but laugh, making Eddie’s heart melt.

He loved your laugh

It always lit up something inside him, don’t even get him started when u smile with those pearly whites of yours, always made him want to kiss your sweet lips more than he already did.

If it isn’t already obvious enough, Eddie Munson was head over heels in love with you, he couldn’t help it at all.

The trip to school finally made its arrival into Eddies usual parking spot not to far from the entrance from the school, turning his keys to turn off the car and sighing as the music disappeared from his ears.

“Don’t worry my love, we will continue later” Eddie said dramatically as he took the disk out of the song player and kissed it.

“You should join the theater club with how dramatic you can be” Eddie smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, I know I would make an amazing Juliet.” Eddie cleared his throat.

“Oh my Romeo, I’ll never love someone as much as I love you” Eddie said in the most girliest voice he could concur.

You laughed loudly as u left the vehicle. “Oh my god, I would pay an extra 40 bucks to get front row if u ever played Juliet” Eddie bowed down. “Thank you, thank you, your praise is appreciated”

The smile was practically stolen from his face as he saw your attention leave him and to the car pulling at the entrance of the school.

Oh great, it was him.

A/N: Sorry part 1 isn’t long! It’s like 3 AM where I’m at and I want to publish this tonight, so part 2 is way longer than this, I hope y’all have a great morning/afternoon/night, part 2 is out now!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington #reader insert #st4 #stranger things 4

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 1 year

Text

Ghosts

Summary: A phone call from a stranger with news about a man from a life you had left behind a long time ago, brings back many memories, making you travel from France to New York City for one last time. Only for a promise made twenty years ago to wait for you once you are back home.

Pairing: John Wick x fem. reader

Rating: G

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: !! spoilers for John Wick Chapter 4 !! do not read this if you don't want to be spoiled for the movie (this is an attempt on a fix it fic lmao), guns, death, angst, fluff

A/N: yeah I know it's been 84 years but here I am with my silly little John Wick fic, trying to make sense of the movie I watched two days ago. Summary is a lil vague cause spoilers

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics to get notified for new fic updates

You jumped awake, uncertain what it was that woke you up.

Groaning your eyes found the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table, showing you that it was just after 3 am. Was it a nightmare? You had those, even though not as frequently as before. Out of instinct you reached under your bed, finding the familiar shape of your gun still in place.

You hadn’t actually used a gun in almost twenty years, yet knowing it was there gave you a sense of safety, your mind wandering to the last time you had used it.

The night you died.

The night you left your old life.

The night he killed you.

Your life had been planned out for you before you even took your first breath. You were the future head of the Ruska Roma, your fathers pride and joy.

You never had a choice in that matter.

You learned hundreds of ways to kill a person, had material art lessons daily followed by lessons learning every single detail about the high table and your family's enemies, making you a killing machine before you even turned thirteen years old.

It was on your thirteenth birthday that you met John Wick for the first time.

He was older than you, at least ten years, but there was something in his eyes that seemed familiar to you. It was the same look you saw every day when you looked into the mirror. Sadness, Anger, Emptiness.

He spent a year working exclusively for your father, doing his dirty work, before he disappeared like a ghost into the night.

Almost twelve years would pass before you and John would meet again.

He became a friend, if you had friends in the world you had been born into. Maybe even your only friend. And so much more. He trained you, his reputation proceeding him, his name only whispered in the underground as if he would appear out of thin air if you dared to speak out his name.

Spending time with John became an escape to the ever lingering pressure all around you, your personal challenge becoming to make him crack the facade he put on, for just a tiny glimpse at the man behind the myth.

It was when your father announced your engagement to another future member of the high table, catching you totally off guard, that gave you finally the strength to plan your way out.

You knew survival was almost impossible.

So you had to die.

And who better to help you make your death believable than the boogeyman himself?

Shaking your head out of the memory of John, blinking away the many pictures of his soft smile as you woke up in his arms day after day before you disappeared you sighed.

It had been almost twenty years since you last saw him, since he promised once he got out for good he would find you, but sometimes you still found yourself thinking about him. He had been your best friend and so much more. The first man you kissed, the first man you slept with.

Your phone buzzed and you reached for it, your eyes frowning at the foreign number.

“Hello?” you said.

A sigh was heard on the other end of the line.

“This is… My name is Winston and I am calling for Jonathan Wick….”

Getting to New York undetected must have been the single most anxious task of your life. You hadn’t been back here since you kissed your former life goodbye.

But it was John.

And Winston, who you learned was the Manager of the New York Continental Hotel, assured you that your safety would be assured if you chose to travel to John’s funeral.

“John and I may have had our issues, but he made me promise to keep an eye on you if anything would ever happen to him,” he had told you.

It was from him that you learned that even though you hadn’t talked or seen John since that night, John had very much kept up with you and your life. To make sure you were always safe.

You learned that he got out too before because he fell in love, got married to the woman he loved before she died from a long illness, the aftermath of that sucking him back into the underworld where he fought for his freedom before he eventually found it and died on the steps of the Sacré-Cœur in Paris.

Only two hours away from the small town you had called home for the last couple of years.

You weren’t prepared how much the news of his death would hurt.

While learning that he got out for another woman hurt when you first learned about it, in the end you were happy he got to experience love and life apart from the underworld.

Sure, he could have died without you knowing it since you lost contact. But knowing that he still cared about you even after all these years, made you so fucking sad and happy at the same time.

Winston and someone who named himself the Bowery King (you did not ask any questions) had left you alone at the graveyard, a trusted security detail from Winston staying behind as you stood under the umbrella facing John Wick’s grave.

Loving husband it read beneath his name.

It brought a small smile to your lips.

When you were younger you always pictured him when you dreamed of getting married. But that was all it was.

A dream.

John Wick was the first man you loved, maybe the only man you really loved.

“I hope you found your peace, Jonathan,” you whispered, your fingers brushing over his gravestone, before you set down a single rose on his stone and on Helen’s. His wife’s.

You blinked away the tears.

“Thank you for keeping me safe,” you said with a sad smile on your lips before you slowly turned around and walked back to your car.

It was early morning when the car drove through the tiny town of La Mare just on the coast of France.

Was it totally insane taking a risky twenty four hour trip to New York City for a funeral of a man you hadn’t talked to in twenty years?

Yes.

But you would do it again.

You thanked the driver with a tired smile, watching him drive away as you searched for your keys in your purse.

You had stayed to have a drink with Winston and meet with a lawyer from whom you learned that John had put you in his last will, making you the sole heir to everything he owned in case his wife died before him.

After you had been driven back to the private airstrip where you took the private jet you had arrived with back to europe.

You just wanted to lay down and cry, the rollercoaster of feelings you had gone through since your phone call with Winston just two days ago still not really setting in.

You unlocked the door, letting your bag fall down in the hallway as you shut the door behind you, leaning with your back against the door, taking a deep breath.

This was so fucking silly.

Why were you so heartbroken about a man you had said goodbye to before?

You got out of your shoes, walking down the long hallway towards the kitchen half asleep. You blamed it on that you did not hear the noise until you were walking through the door, stopping in your tracks at the man currently fighting with your coffee maker.

Instinct set in and you silently walked to the table closest to you, intent on grabbing your gun when you found it gone.

“If you’re looking for your gun, it’s right here,” your head turned towards the man who had now turned around, his head nodding towards your big kitchen Island where your gun was laying.

Your eyes flew from him to the gun, before you looked at him again, your lips parting in a gasp.

“John?” you whispered in disbelief.

Slowly he walked towards you, limped really, before he came to a stop in front of you.

He was older, his dark hair longer than the last time you had seen him. He was wearing sweatpants and a white shirt and you could see the bandages beneath it from where he must be hurt.

“I told you I would find you once I got out for good,” he said carefully, but you just kept looking at him like he was a ghost. A ghost from your past.

“Hope you don’t mind, I let myself in.”

“I... I was at your funeral,” you whispered.

“I was at yours too,” he said.

“You got married,” you said. He nodded.

“But now you’re here.”

“But now I’m here.”

You took a step towards him, carefully reaching out, your hand coming to rest on his chest, just above his heart.

“It’s been a long time,” you whispered.

“Yeah.”

“A lot has happened since we last saw each other,” you said. He nodded.

“You wanna have breakfast and tell me all about it?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

#my fic #John Wick #John Wick x fem. reader #Keanu Reeves #John Wick Chapter 4 spoilers #spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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rogue-durin-16 · 2 years

Text

SUNGLASSES AND LIPSTICK STAINS (part I/III)

Summary: after having his heart torn in half at Tina's party, Steve finds comfort in the most unexpected person. Who would have guessed he would develop such a strong connection with someone he's barely spoken to?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Genre: angst (hurt/comfort)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, Steve breaking down because that needs a tw.

A/N: taking creative liberty to a) move the release of 'Like A Virgin' Studio Album to September of '84, and b) make Steve and Nancy fall apart a bit earlier for the sake of the plot. It does have a second part, but they can be read separately. That said, enjoy <3.

Part II

Part III

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Don't cry don't cry don't cry, I begged myself, stalking out of the boisterous house with my thumb and index rubbing away the tears. Don't cry here, I repeated, not at Tina's fucking pre-Halloween party.

October's sharp air cut through my lungs, making me choke up. Maybe the drastic change of temperature wasn't to blame, maybe it was the lump in my throat I was desperately trying to swallow.

She didn't love me.

Gnawing on my lip harsh enough to draw blood, I put the sunglasses back on in an attempt to hide the inevitably shed droplets of salty water spilling from my lids —though they were dried by the light yet freezing wind as soon as they fell.

A part of my mind was begging me to give Nancy the benefit of the doubt, but weren't drunk words sober thoughts?

Drunk words. As stupid as it may have sounded, it hadn't dawned on me. She was hammered.

I had abandoned a completely wasted Nancy in a stranger's bathroom, alone in a house full of people like Billy Hargrove. God, I was the worst.

"Shit."

My eyes darted a tentative glance at the house over my shoulder before being casted down to stare at my shoes. I had to do it, didn't I? Or I could just walk away.

Breathe in, breathe out.

I could just get into my car and leave.

Breath in.

"Fuck." Sniffling, I turned heel and jogged to the backyard's door I had just walked through in search of a breather.

Navigating the crowd of sweaty, intoxicated highschool students was much easier the second time. Although I was grateful for not having to shove my way back to what had been my starting point, I didn't like one bit the way everyone seemed to spare me pitiful looks when I passed by.

Gosh I didn't want to do it —I really didn't want to— but still my trembling hand knocked on the closed bathroom door.

"Nance?" I hated how my voice so obviously cracked at the nickname. "Nance, open up." I pleaded, leaning my defeated form on the door frame.

A couple of seconds passed. Still no response.

"Nancy." I tried again, my patience running shorter each time the girl didn't reply to my calls. So short that I decided I wouldn't wait for her to turn the knob. "Jesus, Nance, can you—"

I froze at the now clear entrance; my mushed brain refused to fully process that the reason why Nancy was not listening to my request was because she was, in fact, not there anymore.

And what were the odds —genuinely, what were the fucking odds— that the tiny window facing the front yard was perfectly situated for me to see Jonathan Byers helping Nancy climb into his Ford LTD's passenger seat.

That was it, that was what it took. My body allowed me just enough time to shut myself into the bathroom before breaking down.

After sitting down —or more like falling—on the cold tiles, everything was a blur of shoulders spasming and heart pounding in my ears so loud that it prevented me from hearing my own sobs.

In the span of a year, my life had changed drastically —technically for the better, but I had lost my closest friends and pretty much everything that was familiar to me. I got by just fine because I had Nancy, and now she was most likely gone too.

I was alone. Again.

My fingers tangled and tugged at my roots in an attempt to ground myself. I had to— I needed to get a solid grasp of reality, get up, and walk to my car.

I was barely succeeding in pulling myself back together the best I could when the third mistake of the night came to bite me in the ass; I hadn't put the latch on.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Wait!" Samantha's fingers pinched dangerously tight the cheap white lace of my fingerless glove, which gained her a slap on the back of her hand. "Ouch! Where you going?! You just came back!"

"I need a makeup retouch!" I yelled over the party's racket, pushing my friend's grasp off me. "I'll be back in a minute!" I assured her, walking backwards in the bathroom's general direction. "Pinky promise!" Giving the girl an apologetic smile, my digits found the knob at my back and gave it a swift twist.

I didn't even realize I wasn't alone until I was fully inside the room with the door locked behind me.

"Oh my gosh— Sorry! I-" I frowned at how quickly the slouched form dressed in black raised to his feet and transformed into a fairly put together Steve Harrington, sunglasses on, chin up and hands on his hips, as if I hadn't walked in on him crying. "Didn't know... There was someone. Are you good?"

"Yup, don't worry, I was about to get going." He mumbled in a hoarse voice, rubbing his nose as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Uhm can I—" his index finger vaguely motioned at the door my back rested against.

"S-sure, yeah." I stepped further into the narrow space, clearing the way the best I could manage for the boy to leave.

He didn't leave right away though; instead, he stopped before me and parted his lips, drawing in a small breath as if he planned on voicing a thought, but nothing came out.

Maybe whatever booze Tina had put on that bowl at the kitchen counter was messing with me, but for an instant, I actually felt... bad for Steve Harrington.

"You uh... Came with Nancy Wheeler right?" I recalled seeing them dancing earlier and, thanks to the awkwardness my malfunctioning mind was putting me through, I completely missed the way he flinched at Nancy's mention. "I can— I can go get her if you want."

"Good luck finding her." A weak, rueful laugh accompanied Steve's sentence as he allowed his frame to lean on the wall opposed to me.

Apparently, he had no actual plans of leaving the bathroom, and it just didn't feel right to get out and let him be on his own, so I chose to tiptoe around the topic to at least get some answers.

"The damsel in distress left without her knight in shining armor?" It was a half mock I didn't bother to hide. After all, I had never been too fond of neither Steve nor Nancy, so no matter how well-intentioned I was, some bitterness was doomed to slip out.

Luckily, the boy seemed to take it with humor, choosing to not only indulge the poor analogy, but also taking on it himself. "Oh no, she left with him actually." He puckered his lips, giving me a couple of rapid nods followed by a resentful chuckle. "Yeah he's the knight in shining armor, I'm just bullshit."

"Jesus, Harrington." I whispered, my sympathy for the boy growing exponentially. I had a slight idea of who said knight in shining armor was, and if my suspicions were correct, what Steve Harrington was playing was a losing game.

"Am I that bad?" He questioned in a reedy voice.

"I... don't know?" It was surprisingly heartbreaking to not be capable of reassure him. "I just know you're a popular kid that sucks at history."

"But I'm not— do I look like a shitty person, like, from an outside perspective?"

'Yes' would be the truth, but the truth wasn't going to help anyone. "I don't know, Steve." I shrugged, grasping onto the edge of the sink's counter behind me. "For what's worth, since you parted ways with Hagan and Perkins, you come across like uhh... Like a better person?"

"I'll take that as a compliment, I guess." He announced, running his fingers through his tousled hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. "Thanks, Y/n."

"Oh, wow." I breathed out a genuinely surprised laugh, tilting my head to the side. "you know my name."

"What d'you mean? We were in like" one of Steve's hands left his pocket to aimlessly gesture around. "What? three group projects together? And that's just this year. How could I not remember your name?"

"I mean— okay, fair, but you're Steeeve Harrington." I leaned forward while dramatically dragging his first name. This, for some reason, seemed to genuinely amuse him; I caught a glimpse of his half smile before he averted his gaze from me. "King of Hawkins High and shit. Didn't really expect you to remember my name."

He snorted at my latter quote, the tension visibly heaving on his shoulders slowly dissipating the more we talked. "You're pretty memorable. Specially considering that you yelled at me for not arriving on time. Several times." He remarked, mimicking my motions, back separating from the wall in order to briefly bend over.

"Sorry 'bout that." An apology wouldn't have been my preferred choice of words in any other scenario, but the moment didn't really call for a witty comeback.

"It's okay, I deserved it." He responded, retreating to his initial position.

What followed was an uncomfortable silence that begged to be broken, but I had only so much to talk about with Steve Harrington.

"I should head o—"

"I like your costume." Either his comment was louder, or he was too in his head to process mine on time. "Sorry, what?"

"Nothing." I found myself dismissing my own announcement in favor of exploiting another topic. "I didn't take you for a Madonna fan."

"Why? The woman's smoking hot, and she got some bangers." His genuineness twisted up the corner of my lips in a confused smile. That was certainly not how I had expected my night to go, but so far I was oddly pleased.

"I like yours." I bobbed my head at his clothing choice. "Risky Business?" He hummed affirmatively, a tinge of pride making his chest swell. "Nice. Can I try on the sunglasses?"

"Uh... Sure."

Hesitance could be read in his body language whilst handing me the glasses. As soon as I got a hold of them, he immediately casted his head down, fixing his gaze on his shoes.

I spun around to face the mirror, deciding not to bring attention to his avoidant demeanor. "What do we think?" I questioned instead in a lighthearted, almost joking tone after putting on the sunglasses. "I personally think they make me look cool."

Steve peeped at me through his still watery lashes and the ghost of a small smile fighting to bring some light to his face. "You look cool."

"Nice try but nope, it's definitely the glasses." I countered, using my middle finger to slide them down my nose enough for my eyes to be visible. "They make a pretty good job of blocking the view, don't they?"

"They do." He muttered.

After catching his eyes on the reflection once more, I did an 180 and hopped on the marble countertop.

"First heartbreak?"

"And last." Steve's brows rose as he distractedly kicked the tiles.

"You know it's completely okay to cry, right?" He huffed, so I insisted on the matter. "Everyone's wasted anyway, you don't need these." My fingernail tapped on the plastic arm of the complement.

"Y/n," Steve scoffed, pushing himself off the wall to approach me. "I have uhhh a reputation." He stated with wide eyes and raised brows and, in the midst of trying to figure out whether or not he meant it as a joke, I found myself cackling. "Are you laughing at me?" He inquired with an outraged frown that I, again, didn't know if I should take seriously.

"I don't know, am I?"

"You better not." He barely had to reach out his fingertips to take the sunglasses from me, which made me suddenly aware of how close he stood. "I'm already sensitive."

"My apologies." I whispered with an amused smile, leaning back on my hands to put some more inches between us.

"As I was saying before you decided to be rude," he made a stop to place back on his sunglasses. "I have a reputation." His hand came to rest by my thigh on the counter. "So there's no way in hell anyone in here is seeing me shed a single tear."

"I just saw you sob, though." I teased with a quirked brow.

"I'll allow that because you've put up with me for" he brought his wrist up to his face as if he was about to check his wristwatch. "A long ass while. I'm sorry for keeping you here."

"It's not like you're keeping me captive," I nodded at the door, briefly redirecting Steve's attention to it. "I could've left."

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"Because I didn't do what I came here for yet." I explained, pointing at my face. "I was supposed to retouch my makeup."

"Why?" I felt the embarrassing urge to whine when Steve pushed himself off the sink. "It looks good to me." He stated in a confused tone, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

"You need glasses. Like, actual glasses," I declared, scrunching my nose. "'cause you're blind."

He puffed out a jaunty 'oh c'mon', which made a smile creep up my visage. Had I just managed to cheer him up?

"You wanna have a laugh before leaving the bathroom?"

"What do you have in mind?"

Steve's eyes notably widened when I pulled up the side of my white layered tulle skirt, which sent me into a fit of giggles while I fished out my mini makeup palette from my thigh high, and consecutively extended my arm to hand it to him.

"Fix my makeup, pretty boy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

STEVE'S P. O. V.

No matter how many times Y/n had assured me I could mess it up and she wouldn't mind because 'it's a Halloween party anyway', I still tried to do my absolute best, which obviously required a very slow process for something Y/n could have probably finished herself in a couple of minutes.

"Stay still."

Knocknocknock!

"IT'S OCCUPIED!" The girl shouted, making me yank her face back to me by holding her cheeks.

After the second person who walked in on me attempting to retouch Y/n's makeup, we had decided to put the latch on the door.

"I'm struggling here, Y/n," I absentmindedly informed her, words coming out muffled by the lipstick I held between my teeth while I tilted her chin up. "so if you could please stop moving—"

"Steve, I appreciate the dedication, but you're taking forever." she quipped in a lighthearted manner.

"Excuse me, but I believe you told me to fix up your makeup, not to ruin it." I riposted before blowing away the surplus dust from the brown eyeshadow I had just finished applying. "Okay, we reached the critical point." I announced, putting down the compact case to take the red lipstick bar from my mouth.

"Okay wait!" Y/n, who had until then been lolling on the countertop, sat upright and wrapped her fingers around both my wrists. "Now I want you to take it easy. This lipstick" she shook my right wrist. "Is a menace. You gotta be careful."

"Pfffft I got this," I assured her with regained confidence I had thought lost when I first entered the bathroom. "trust me."

"Alright, I'm trusting you." Her hands released mine and went to rest on her lap.

"But you can't move."

"I won't."

"And you can't talk." I reminded her, holding her jaw still with one hand while the other held the lipstick a couple of inches away from her lips.

"Okay." Our voices had gradually gotten lower until hers became a barely audible whisper, followed by a silence filled only with the distant sound of Psycho Killer playing in the living room.

Slowly but surely, Y/n's plump lips were carefully coated in a deep shade of red. Blinded by self-assurance and the incomprehensible wish to prorogue my time standing inches away from her, I resolved to do a second layer.

Not even halfway through the process, the bar slipped down. "Shit!"

"Steeeve, that's not my lip." She singsonged with a growing grin that made my task much difficult for more than one reason.

"I know. wait, I think can fix it— stop smiling!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I'll fuck it up even more! Damn it, Y/n." I took a deep breath, straightening my back in order to release some tension. "hold on."

Cradling her cheeks to make sure she was kept in place, I brushed the red beneath her lower lip with my thumb, slightly parting it from her upper one as a consequence.

The mistake was quickly fixed, but I was unable to let go. There was definitely something mesmerizing about that shade of red, I figured after finding myself repeating the previous motion with my thumb, this time with a featherlight touch.

"I fixed it." I struggled to find my voice and release Y/n's face, but I managed. Had I not known better, I'd have sworn she sighed when my hands switched her skin for the countertop. "You wanna... Uh... Check?"

"Sure." I didn't have time to take a step back before being frozen in place by her motions; instead of turning around to look at the mirror, she pulled my sunglasses down to my nose and checked herself in the reflection.

The sunglasses must have done an excellent job of blocking the view, because Y/n seemed completely unaware of how my eyes had latched onto her lips and wouldn't let go.

"I'm impressed, Harrington." She commented, returning the sunglasses to my head without a warning.

It took me a second too long to lift my gaze from the red lipstick.

"Steve?"

I wanted to voice my thoughts —I really did—, but my exhaustion only permitted me to act on impulse.

A muted gasp escaped Y/n's throat when I lunged forward to press my lips to hers, which made me realize how stupid that decision had been.

Just as I began to pull away, Y/n's lace covered palm found it's way to my cheekbone, sliding into my hair as soon as my own hands landed on her hips, bringing her upper body closer to mine.

I wouldn't be able to tell whether it lasted two seconds or two minutes, but it felt way too short.

"Okay" her soft panting fanned over my parted lips. "Okay we can't— this—" she puffed, shaking her head 'no' as she leaned back. "We can't do that."

In my haze and my neediness, I could only ask, "W-why?"

"Because" she contorted to the side to reach for a wet towel laying near the sink. "You're dating Nancy Wheeler—"

"I don't know about that."

"and" she went on, shushing me with her index finger before attempting to remove the red mess her lipstick had made on my mouth and around. "I have to see her nearly every afternoon." She might have noticed my confused visage, because, with a sigh, she explained further. "My little brother is best friends with Mike."

"Henderson." My brows raised so high they met my hairline. It had taken me a hot minute to put two and two together. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit." She agreed, giving me a soft push so she could jump down the sink. "Now, I don't particularly like Nancy, but I don't know if I'd be able to look at her in the eye after..."

"Fair point. Jesus, I'm sorry." I groaned, taking off the glasses to manually comb my hair in an anxious manner. "I shouldn't— I didn't even think-"

"No, it's okay."

"No—"

"Steve—"

A loud bang on the door made us both jolt on the spot.

"Y/N! I'M GOING HOME, AND I'M LEAVING WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!"

"Fuck— COMING SAM!" I watched as Y/n's skirt twirled gracefully when she checked herself in the mirror, trying to fix her lipstick before making her way to the door. "I... Guess I'll see you around?" She tentatively asked, sparing me an apologetic glance over her shoulder with her fingers already around the knob.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll... See you around."

She gave me a small wave before unlocking the door and leaving it ajar after sneaking out of the bathroom.

I couldnt help but let out a quiet laugh at the snippet of conversation I caught from both girls.

"He really touched up your makeup up, didn't he?"

"Shut up or I'll murder you with my bare hands."

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tugoslovenka · 10 months

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Fanfiction Build-list

It's been 84 years since I've written any fanfiction but my god did I get a craving for it ever since venturing into Baldur's Gate 3. I too dabble in the art of smut and depression. So here's my little list of creations you can visit!

ko-fi link

Astarion:

Warding Bond (in progress)

Longfic, explicit, action/adventure, slow burn, lots of angst

TW: includes SA/non-con!

The Feast of Heroes was meant to celebrate the efforts of common and special champions who took up arms against the threats that dared target the city of Baldur’s Gate. It would always include mention of some spectacular individuals that gave life and limb for their home. However, the legendary six were always at the forefront of these tributes, led by none other than the self-proclaimed leader of the group, pivotal in taking down the mind flayer threat. Lord Astarion Ancunín. Owner of the Ancunín Estate. Member of the Council of Four. All-powerful vampire ascendant.

Available on AO3 or tumblr.

Sanguinans (complete)

One-shot, explicit, blood and gore, blood play, porn without plot

Tephraxa had never thought of blood afflictions much, not until a pale elf by the name of Astarion came into her life. She now craves the feeling, and longs for the full moon when the vampire is at the height of his bloodlust.

Available on AO3 or tumblr.

Halsin:

Flowers & Honey (complete)

One-shot, explicit, size difference, porn without plot

Halsin tries thanking his companion Edith for helping him in the fight against the Shadowcurse, with a bath, of course.

Available on AO3 and tumblr.

Ducks & Revelations (complete)

One-shot, explicit, size difference, choking, porn without plot

Halsin apologizes after a particularly rough coupling. Though, his methods may not be as gentle during mating season.

Available on AO3 and tumblr.

Markings & Firsts (complete)

One-shot, explicit, size difference, bear (?) sex, animal anatomy, monsterfucking, porn without plot

Mating season brings with it many firsts for Edith—most of all, fucking the bear man as an actual bear.

Available on AO3 and tumblr

Safehaven (complete)

One-shot, explicit, hurt/comfort, porn without plot, size difference, plus-sized Tav, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus

You have felt a little insecure in your situationship with Halsin as of late. Fortunately, the druid seems to have taken notice—and takes some steps in consoling your fears and self-consciousness.

Available on AO3 and tumblr

#ok im making this so *i* can have a better understanding even #my fics

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punemy-spotted · 1 year

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A Worthy Grave - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - The Dead Become the Emperors of Memory

Pairing: Federal Agent!Ari Levinson x Witch!Reader

Masterlist; Chapter 1; Chapter 2

Pairing: Federal Agent!Ari Levinson x Witch!Reader

Warnings: THIS IS STILL A HORROR FIC; A Whole Lot of Body Horror; Blood and Gore; Harm to an Animal; Gruesome Murder; Religious Iconography; Straight up Heresy; Christ Imagery; Gruesome Descriptions of Organs; Ghosts; Ghouls; Violence Against Women; Discussion of Grief; Witchcraft; Blood; I Cannot Articulate Enough That This is a HORROR Fic; Dead Dove: Do Not Eat; Seriously so so dead, HEED THE WARNINGS

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY AND IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE CONTENT THAT IS BEING PRESENTED, PLEASE DO NOT READ

Chapter Summary: Death was not supposed to visit you in the one place you spent your day speakin’ for it, carvin’ answers out of flesh and bone.

Notes: So yes it took me 84 years to update and I'm SORRY. Please take this update as an apology. (also yes this was on Ao3 ages ago… depression’s a bitch, y’all.)

I cannot emphasize enough that this is a horror fic so things are going to get gory going forward. PLEASE read at your own discretion, I'm begging you.

As always, I crave feedback so please let me know your thoughts! Have questions about the lore? Let me know about those too! As a reminder, reblogging fics supports authors so please let me know you want more by liking AND reblogging!

All of my work is 18+ Only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT. I do not consent to my work being posted anywhere besides Tumblr or Ao3 and I post my work there myself. Do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content.

The next morning comes with lab results and Ari Levinson bringing you coffee, bright and early.

Good coffee, too, which you note with amusement the moment you take a sip, You convince Janice to upgrade the beans?

Pretty sure she’d tell me asking wasn’t even on the budget. I went to Jed’s.

You go to his restaurant or his house?

You’re teasing him — which you’ll admit is new for you, especially with Ari fuckin’ Levinson standin’ in front of you, sipping coffee and enjoying one of Jed’s famous breakfast sandwhiches — but considerin’ your couch an’ the fact that he slept on it night before last, it’s not like you’re unjustified, is it? A fact which he, to his credit, takes in stride, taking a smug sip of coffee — if such a thing were possible, it would be Levinson to pull it off — and shrugging, Showin’ up unannounced at the ass-crack of dawn’s a privilege I reserve for you, Doc.

You roll your eyes, hide your smile behind the lip of your coffee cup, Just cuz you spent the night on my couch don’t mean I’m gonna be any nicer to you, Levinson.

Shit, Doc, you start bein’ nice to me and I might swoon here and now.

You’d refuse to admit it if he or anyone else asked you to, but that makes you laugh, hidden behind a huff that could be annoyance or amusement, Hope you ain’t expectin’ me to catch you, Levinson.

I learned my lesson last time the Chief tried makin’ us do trust exercises.

Not my fault you didn’t warn me.

He shrugs, you roll your eyes, turning back to the computer as it dings with a message for you to review, You better have ordered me a sandwich too, or I’m bannin’ you from my biscuits for the foreseeable future.

That’s for you to find out in the lunchroom, Doc.

Where the hell’s your apple butter?

In a twist of fate you will not be thankin’ anyone for — least of all Ari Levinson — there is a sandwich waiting for you in the breakroom fridge, labeled and everythin’. You pop it into the toaster oven like you always do with Jed’s takeaway, pouring yourself a glass of sweet tea and taking the time you deserve for yourself an’ your lunch break, having taken great care to make sure there’s not an ounce of paperwork or results to review while you sip tea an’ enjoy a meal to the sound of blessed silence.

Most of the office would be done with their lunches by now, or eatin’ at their desks to avoid traffic in the break room. ‘Course, with your lab, the idea of eatin’ a meal with a frozen corpse in the next room waitin’ for you to finish rummagin’ around in its guts did not whet the appetite.

Least the break room don’t smell like formaldehyde all the time.

So you take your vigil here, disappearing into your thoughts and the quiet joy of pastrami on rye.

Until Ari Levinson, like a bloodhound sensin’ the exact moment you find silence in your life and choosin’ to hunt it down, comes strollin’ in, See you found the sandwich, Doc.

You might’ve been grateful you’d already finished your meal, just sippin’ tea by the time he came by, but you’re already missin’ silence and there’s a good fifteen minutes left before you need to clock back in an’ pretend you’re comfortable ‘round grieving parents, so you’d thank him to forgive you for lookin’ like he made you swallow a lemon. Whole. You bribin’ me with a sandwich to keep talkin’ to you, Levinson?

Is it working?

You open your mouth, poised to continue the time-honored tradition of tradin’ barbs with him, sarcastic quip ready to fly from your tongue, when you see her. Standin’ there in all her spectral glory, mouth open wide in a static scream of horror an’ fury, a livid necklace of purple bruises blooming around her throat, hollow eyes trained on you.

And Ari Levinson, goddamn him and his goddamn training, notices. Notices. Watches you. Makes silent note of how your mouth snaps shut, how your lips fold into a grim line and follows the trajectory of your gaze with a turn of his head, watchin’ the hallway behind him.

Hey Doc, he calls back to you, voice as level as he can probably manage it.

Yeah? You make a valiant effort at doing the same, refusin’ to take your eyes off the specter once known as Jane Doe #117.

I’m assuming you see her?

Sure do, Levinson.

There’s a pause, a moment, Ari’s hands slowly reaching for the gun at his holster and you slowly reaching a hand out to stop him, ears ringing as you try to make sense of the radio static pouring from that endless scream, your daddy’s lessons servin’ you well. Run.

A beat.

Then—Levinson, I need you to get security over to the lab.

The look he fires back at you is pure confusion, hand still poised over his gun and you know in your bones the only reason Jane Doe #117 hasn’t moved is cuz you’ve got eyes on her right now.

Bad deaths. The humanity is rotting out of her by the second, an’ no amount of cornbread offerings an’ promises to do our best are gonna keep her from lashin’ out at the humanity she’s lost, not ‘til the person who took it from her is found and named. Named for her to haunt until they too, turn to rot.

But you don’t got time to think about that right now, not when Ari’s already arguing with you ‘bout leavin’ you alone with an eyeless, bloodless, ghost. Or haint, you ain’t sure what he’ll call it—Doc, I know—

I know I didn’t stutter, Levinson. Security. Lab. Now.

It’s already too late.

Jon Doe #43 is less pleasant lookin’ than the girl whose ID he had hidden inside his flayed jaw — the girl whose radio static warning is still ringing in your ears as you take in the sight of him now, lookin’ leagues worse than he did the first time he showed up on your doorstep… two nights ago.

How quickly things move.

Ari swears low under his breath behind you, both of you frozen in place and trying to make sense of the tableau before you, the sight of a dead man strung up against the wall, arms outstretched and a crown of broken scalpels forced into the exposed bone of his scalp, head hanging low as if looking down at the figure kneeling at his bloody, skinless feet.

Is that…?

It is.

Something sick rises in your gut as you take a look at the blood-bathed figure kneelin’ before the corpse you know she’d been busy trynna put back together into somethin’ buryable, her gloved hands bound into some bastardization of penitent prayer by a line of what you’re pretty sure is John Doe #47’s own large intestine, havin’ been cleaned out after another one of your techs “recovered” it from the tupperware container it’d been found in when the whole mess’d been discovered.

You can’t see her face — part cuz she’s turned away from you, lookin’ up at that flayed Christ, an’ part cuz of the horned thing resting on her shoulders, a shape you wish you didn’t recognize as you take in the sight of cream-white fur stained with drippin’ viscera — but you suspect you know exactly what kinda expression she’s wearin’ underneath that “mask” forced over her.

Blood for blood.

You made a life of it, death. Cornbread offerin’s like your momma taught you the first time you met one of the wailin’ spirits of the woods ‘round your home, let ‘em gorge themselves on the vitality of food the same way a livin’ bein’ might fuel themselves with the actual thing. Tried to make sense of the static the way your daddy would when he stepped off the pulpit and into the graveyard behind your family home, always hissing warnings to the bein’s beyond to keep away from his family.

You made a life of it.

But just like the mountains, the ones meant to keep you safe if you kept ‘em safe, death was supposed to stay way the hell away from you, was supposed to keep its scythe off you an’ yours until they were good an’ ready to travel through that big black door. That was the promise written all over that big ol’ family Bible you spent your childhood copyin’ so you’d be ready for the world outside your homemade Eden, the one you wielded like shield an’ sword against any manner of haint unwillin’ to recognize the darkness in your own blood.

Death was not supposed to visit you in the one place you spent your day speakin’ for it, carvin’ answers out of flesh and bone, woe to you who rend the flesh.

Your lab is now an active crime scene, casting you out to make your calls to next of kin — you know them, you’ve met her husband ‘bout a half-dozen times this past month alone, bringin’ her lunch when her scatterbrain forgot it, got used to seein’ him lingerin’ sheepishly in the doorway and then hollerin’ for her to come out front an’ give her beau a kiss — and try to get used to sayin’ her name in conjunction with, There’s been… an incident.

You’re no grief counselor.

There’s no training for this, but it ain’t right. It ain’t right for someone who ain’t family to call hers, someone who don’t remember laughin’ at her gettin’ giddy over stomach contents. Someone who don’t understand what it’s like to miss the sound of her hummin’ some pop song you ain’t even heard of—

You holdin’ up alright, Doc?

Ari Levinson makes you jump for the second time in as many days, office phone clatterin’ from your hand as you spin ‘round and try not to let your heart beat out your chest, still too busy overthinkin’ to manage a glare, I’ll be fine. You get the security footage from the lab?

Yeah. Got a couple computer guys on it now, trying to figure out what happened.

Well, you sigh, rubbin’ the bridge of your nose as you lean against a metal countertop, We better hope we find out soon enough, cuz I’m ‘bout three seconds from shakin’ this whole goddamn buildin’ apart lookin’ for someone to pin this shit on.

Ari nods, mouth pressed into a thin line as the silence ‘tween you stretches out, eyes wanderin’ over to the closed-off lab, sanctuary swarmin’ with corpse beetles mournin’ the loss of one of their own as they try an’ find out whodunnit.

You know they won’t, ‘course, but it’s enough to let ‘em try.

You’d never admit it, of course — an’ maybe you’d almost forgotten it by now, those childhood truths givin’ way to the kinda truths you needed to keep your callin’ here in these mountains — but it used to terrify you. An’ why wouldn’t it, all ‘em screamin’ mouths an’ radio-static pleas beggin’ you to make sense of the injustices of the world they’d been cut right out of?

Too much, too much pain, too much horror, too much for a girl of tender years to tolerate hearin’, much less repeatin’ to those still grieving.

Problem with the dead is, well, they’re selfish. Don’t care if you’re barely old enough to understand the meaning of death, still meant to be shielded from those things that should long have left this plane of existence an’ passed through that big black door.

Ari Levinson don’t know none of that terror though, don’t know much more’n what you jammed into his head after blowin’ away another one of your ghosts, but he means well. Stands a little to close behind you like he could just peer ‘round an’ see the way your lips twitch as you swallow down blood an’ bile, holdin’ back the shadows of your daddy’s own temper.

You gonna be alright, Doc?

Ah shit.

You’d rather chew glass than tell him you prolly won’t be, tell him you just lost a girl you loved like your own blood, tell him you got cocky and now the very community you called your home was in danger cuz of it.

But there he is, standing in front of you like a fuckin’ sentinel while he waits for you to give him something back. Assurance, more likely, but as much as you’re used to tellin’ lies an’ keepin’ secrets, there are some falsehoods even yoou can’t keep.

Sure, you finally answer, trying to sound convincing and feeling the hollowness bitter itself on your tongue, I’ll live. Gimme a few hours an’ I’ll have somethin’ to say for her.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #chris evans #ari levinson imagine #chris evans imagine #chris evans character #a worthy grave

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kaiowut99 · 6 months

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Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters GX Episode 1 Subbed (Finalized Re-Release)

(Original Finalized Release Post)

(Check out my Subbed!GX Stream Masterpost!)

TURN-1: Yugi's Successor

On his way to the Entrance Exams for the Duel Academia High School, Judai Yuki meets the legendary duelist Yugi Mutou and receives a card from him. Running late, Judai arrives at the venue and requests to take his exam, but Instructor Chronos sees Judai's exam as pointless given his lackluster score on the written exam. A duel begins between Judai and Chronos, and Chronos's rare Antique Gear Golem card uses its powerful 3000 ATK to damage Judai. His back against the wall, Judai hears the voice of a Monster--which turns out to belong to the card he received from Yugi, Winged Kuriboh...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...I first posted the original finalized version of this episode almost 10 years ago??? Time is an illusion...

Fresh off the presses, it's a re-finalized version of my episode 1 subs! Well, probably re-re-re-re-finalized given my penchant for consistency and quality after previous revisions in the past 2-3 years, between fixing a handful of animation errors and terminology revisions... But this one merited a new post not so much for any updated translations, but because after casually skimming through this episode a while back, I noticed more animation errors, all card-related, that I'm now able to fix as I have for episodes since. You know the deal with this one, I'm sure; new kid on the block bumps into the Game King himself as he runs late for his Academia exam and manages to hit one of the school's best with his skills--literally. Fun opening episode to a fun series.

With this, I'm hoping to officially call this episode finalized for good, mainly because the kind of annoying thing about doing further revisions now is that, thanks to my solid-state drive (SSD) failing in October of 2022, I lost my personal copies of the episode scripts with the ATK/DEF counters I stylize and all, so it means I have to cut/stitch together different parts of the episode between the fixes I applied and the previous hardsub to account for the stat-counter subs or the eyecatch subs I started doing--since the softsub MKVs I release don't have those specific subs, they're easier to update. So I hopefully shouldn't be touching anything before episode 84 (the first one I finalized after getting a new drive) again and those can ideally be considered finalized for good. I'm hoping I can also give that title to 84-109 (where I currently am), but I'd like to think I didn't miss anything, lol.

Anyway, as mentioned, this revision applies several card-related fixes to the episode, some of which replicate fixes 4Kids did for the dub that I took a cue from. The fixes were added to the last DVDRip I released, subsequently made into a new softsub MKV, both of which will be up on NAC soon with the updated hardsub. List below the cut below as always, for the interested~ (Nice thing with some of these is that the frame rate was usually consistent, which meant that editing most panning shots and the occasional zoom shots were usually more of a breeze than later on, haha.)

Enjoy, folks; with this out of the way, since it's been about two weeks since 108 and 109 were finished up, I'll start setting up stuff for finalizing 110 while doing a little more TFSP work here/there before I fully start on 110 sometime next week. Stay tuned!

Fixes & Edits!

*The bolded edits below were applied back in 2021 and were added into the original release post; adding them here for completeness.

Applied a card back to an orange rectangle that was a face-down card during the panning shot of the Exam Duels going on over the episode’s opening narration as it fades to Chronos watching, repeating the edit as it pans back around again before fading to Manjoume and Ryou/Asuka watching.

As Misawa's exam proctor says that he stands no chance against his Super Defense Deck, the blank-art cards on his Disk for Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem the Moving Fortress are reversed (the wider side for the effect box should be on the right). Fixed by applying proxies on them for a frame in AfterEffects, masking in the card outlines for blending, before taking that frame into Sony Vegas and zooming it out for the zoom shot here.

As Misawa's Ring of Destruction destroys Vorse Raider, we see the smoke rush onto the proctor's side of the field--and as we do, we can quickly see the blank-art Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem cards on his Disk are again reversed before the smoke covers them. Fixed first in AfterEffects by slapping the proxies on for a frame, then in Vegas by taking that frame into and keyframing it to the rapid panning shot for most of its 17 frames. (Incidentally, throughout this scene, a different error happens in the dub, where aside from keeping the cards' orientation on the proctor's Disk incorrect, they also shuffle between Gear Golem and Big Shield Gardna being Normal or Effect Monsters--bit of an identity crisis!)

Fixed the error with Misawa’s LP dropping to zero after he uses Ring of Destruction to finish his Exam Duel; should have dropped to 1300.

After the proctor's LP drop to zero, he congratulates Misawa on his win, but the Gear Golem card on his Disk is reversed. Fixed first in AfterEffects by applying my proxy for a few frames, then taking one of those frames into Vegas to lightly keyframe as the shot pans left. (As a fun editing aside, I could tell 4Kids likely edited this in a similar way to how I did because as the cards fade out, you can briefly see some residue of Manjoume's hair outline on Big Shield Gardna's card which they didn't cover up; I definitely made sure I went the extra mile with redrawing the arena floor to cover that haha.)

After Misawa thanks the proctor, we zoom out to Manjoume in the stands as the Solid Vision fades out, but the cards under Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem are--you guessed it--reversed. Fixed in a few ways, with the goal being to redo Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem fading out--first, in Vegas, I took the first frame after they're gone and zoomed it into place at the start of the zoom, which let me cover up Gear Golem and most of Big Shield Guardna, but because Manjoume's hair moves upward as the shot zooms out, doing this means I couldn't fully cover it. So, I then took this first post-fadeout frame into Photoshop, where I used the Clone Tool to duplicate the arena floor and cover up the rest of Big Shield Guardna, reinserting it into Vegas and applying the zoom keyframes I did to the earlier frames to it--this lets my edited frame properly zoom out with the shot. Once done, I went into AfterEffects and applied the Big Shield and Gear Golem proxies onto the shot's first frame, masking them above the cards, then took that frame into Vegas to zoom out with the shot (rather easily, luckily, thanks to the frame rate note I mentioned up top), masked out Big Shield and Gear Golem and made them fade out into the edited frame in the layer below. With that set, all I had left was to go back and mask Manjoume's hair back above the edits for the duration of the fade, which was pretty easy, and boom goes the dynamite.

After Judai's duel with Chronos starts, he summons out Elemental Hero Featherman, but the card gets placed reversed on his Disk. Fixed in AfterEffects by applying a proxy first to one frame during the initial light zoom-out in the shot, taking the fixed frame into Vegas to re-zoom and hold once the zoom was over.

Chronos reacts to Featherman's summon, and as Featherman lands in front of Judai, his card on his Disk is reversed again, but also as the screen pans right, for a few frames as Judai moves to then place a card face-down, the shadow under his left leg goes from being more gray to black, turning back to gray once he stops moving. Fixed in AfterEffects first by placing a correctly facing proxy on his Disk for a frame, which I then took into Vegas and re-panned into the shot; while in Vegas, I then masked in the gray leg shadow over the black, masking in part of Featherman's ATK/DEF counter over the edit to blend it in.

In the next shot, as Judai ends his turn and their LP counters pop up, the Featherman card under him on the field is reversed; fixed in AfterEffects by slapping in a proxy, masking Featherman back in above it.

[cont below]

(10) After Chronos uses Confiscation, as he sends Judai's Revival of the Dead/Monster Reborn to his Cemetery, a few things happen: 1) the Featherman card on his field under him on the field is facing Chronos in Attack Mode, and 2) it's in the wrong Zone on Judai's Disk, as it should be in Monster Zone 3. I fixed this a few ways, first fixing the Featherman-on-field aspect in AfterEffects, applying a Defense-Mode proxy under Featherman and masking him and Judai back over it; I then took a cue from 4Kids and took the frame immediately after his Cemetery stops being lit up (but before Judai starts to move) and the frames as Judai moves into Photoshop, where I copied the empty Zone 1 into place over Zone 2, blending it in with some minor editing, and combined it with the AfterEffects edit I then did by applying a Featherman proxy in Defense Mode to Zone 3. After throwing everything into Vegas, I then applied some masking to a solid-white color layer to replicate the lights coming from Judai's Cemetery slot (helped by the fact that, luckily, the lights don't move). (The dub, for their part, only handled the Disk aspect, applying a weird light to cover up their Zone 2 edit while the Graveyard was lit up, leaving the Featherman card on the field as it originally was, OCG format and all lol.)

(11) Chronos activating Heavy Storm causes a huge storm of wind on the field, and as it gets to Judai's field, we see that the Defense-Mode Featherman card on the field under Featherman is reversed. Fixed first in AfterEffects, applying a proxy in a frame where most of the card was visible and masking Featherman back above it, then taking that frame into Vegas where I first redid the panning that happens, then I created a solid-color layer colored like the wind and applied some masking to replicate the gusts of wind that blow over the card.

(12) After Chronos summons his Wicked Lord Tokens and the crowd reacts, the smoke on the field from their summon simmers down, but the Featherman card under Featherman is reversed again. Fixed in AfterEffects by applying a correctly facing proxy and then masking Featherman back on top.

(13) After the commercial break, fixed the error with a Ra Yellow student’s miscolored jacket as he and the others watch Antique Gear Golem being summoned, thanks to thepalebride’s help.

(14) After crowd reaction to Antique Gear Golem being summoned, Asuka looks out onto the field and says she unfortunately heard the sound of the Academia's gates closing shut for Judai--as she does, we see that the blank-art card under Featherman is reversed. Fixed first in AfterEffects by applying a proxy under him in the first frame of the shot and masking him back on top, then taking that frame into Vegas where I re-panned it as the shot pans upward.

(15) After a brief blush, Judai summons out Winged Kuriboh, but he places it reversed on his Disk--and in the very next shot, it's correctly facing such that its name box is to our left. Fixed in AfterEffects by applying a proxy as he places it on his Disk, masking his fingers over it.

(16) After Antique Gear Golem destroys Winged Kuriboh and Judai tells Chronos that it reduces his damage to zero--to Asuka's shock--Judai takes Winged Kuriboh off his Disk and places it in his Cemetery slot in a quick shot, but the card is reversed again. Also fixed by 4Kids, I fixed this in AfterEffects by applying a proxy facing correctly in the frames in which Judai moves it.

(17) After summoning Flame Wingman, and after some taunting from Chronos, Judai activates an arena as heroic as he is in Skyscraper, but as he does so, Flame Wingman is missing from his Disk, as it should be in Zone 3. Fixed first in AfterEffects by applying a proxy (after finding the best-quality screenshot of Wingman's anime art and touching it up using an AI tool [I think I settled on Waifu]), fading it in as the scene fades from the Judai closeup to Judai about to swing his Disk around, and adding it as he does so, then applying a brightening and dimming as the Solid Vision lights go on around him. Once I did that, I went into Vegas and applied some masking on the little flickers that pop up over that zone to blend the edit in. (Side-Note: while dubifying the Skyscraper card in Judai's hand, 4Kids forgot to mask in his thumb over it, begging the question... how is Jaden holding that?)

(18) Fixed the blank Normal Monster card that should be Flame Wingman, both as Antique Gear Golem crashes onto Chronos and as the duel fades to an end.

#GX #yugioh #ygo #ygo gx #yugioh gx #yu-gi-oh gx #yu-gi-oh! gx #my subs #Judai Yuki #Chronos de Medici #ahh humble GX beginnings #[hopefully i'm not only just finalizing episode 180 in 2034...]#[Reblogs for visibility are always appreciated 🙂]

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