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#last night i googled cosmically meaning
grandpasnailgroovy · 9 months
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Does it really, cosmically speaking, matter if i dont get up and go to work?
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brydde · 7 months
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PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER!
alias / name:   valley.
birthday:   may 19th.
zodiac sign:   taurus.
height:   150cm / 4'11".
hobbies:   rp, screenwriting, gaming, and *failing at* gardening.
favorite color:   forest green.
favorite book:   i don't have one. but if i had to choose, i would probably choose a maggie stief.vater book.
last song:   bedroom exile - giant rooks.
last film / show:   true detective: night country.
recent reads:   i was rereading the dream thieves... i need to pick it up again.
inspiration:   the all-consuming rage and hopelessness i feel whenever is see trash in nature. cosmic and eldritch horror. irish legends. spy movies like the bourne and bond movies. inception (2010). the eternal fight to exist and be happy in a world (and a body) that hates you.
story behind url:   just bry.de's name with two d's. i wanted to keep it simple and short. coincidentally, "brydde" means "cared" in swedish.
fun fact about me:   english is my fourth language! until two years ago, i was using google translate daily to translate things for my replies. i've come really far, but there's much i still have to learn and perfect. i'm very grateful to everyone who has shown interest and love for me and my muses despite my funky grammar. 🥺❤️
tagged by: @4ger ❤️😘 tagging: @chth0nia, @artisanals, @tsareviich, @raytm, @fenixburned.
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sloppyzengarden · 2 years
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15 Questions, 15 people
I am so excited to have been tagged in this. I've always wanted to be a part of something like this. So thank you so much to @why-what-no for tagging me!
Nickname: I mostly only have nicknames for my other name real name which I will not be sharing. I also get called Jams by my friends. Even more so I get called stubborn so...
Sign: Libra
Height: 170cm/ 5'6"
Last thing I googled: dairy free condensed milk (I know my lactose-intolerant people understand me)
Song stuck in my head: Nightmare by Halsey
Number of followers: 19, which makes sense I only reblog things. My other account is almost at 200 which I am very excited about.
Amount of sleep: last night, 9 hours. That is usually my average. Y'all really need to sleep more I mean it. It's good for your skin.
Dream job: Trophy wife, no I'm joking. I'm working hard to be a personal chef but if I didn't need money I'd be a writer.
Wearing: A green and white psychedelic dress with a green shirt on top. I am slaying.
Movies/Books That Summarize You: I don't know I only read fanfic XD. The dictionary of lost words because I am a feminist who likes writing. For the movie, I'd say Spiderhead, which sounds weird but I think so. It has incredible detail and touches on a lot of deep subjects. Which I think is how my closest friends would describe me. Plus smut so...
My favourite Song: "Some thing cosmic" by Angel Olsen. It makes me feel like I am floating and touching stars. Also "Fair" by The Amazing Devil, it is what I imagine love feels like. The same with, "Work Song" by Hozier.
My favourite Instrument: The bass, I think it's really hot.
Aesthetic: I have never ever stuck to one aesthetic only. I asked my friend and she described my aesthetic as, "Mood fairy cottage core farmer. With a goth undertone. With dark seductive energy. As well as golden retriever energy." As you can see I am all over the place.
Favourite Authors: Gath Nix, Nora Roberts, Neil Gaiman, @littlefreya, @why-what-no, @darkficsyouneveraskedfor, @charnelhouse. (I am saying everyone on here is an author also. Because you guys are my favourite.)
Random fun fact: I have a tree growing through my window
This was really fun thank you!
Taglist @littlefreya @charnelhouse @babyhenry @keanureevesisbae @thorst @chickensarentcheap @diorhamilton @superdcchick @the-iceni-bitch @stargirlfics @libraryofloveletters @lewisthot @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @thirstworldproblemss @dreaming-about-fanfictions
Have fun!
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petrawood · 2 years
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Okay, so as soon as I saw our pal our dude our bro Jake Lockley trapped in his sarcophagus, I knew I had to look up the meaning of the color red in Egypt because, I mean, it's obvious it wasn't picked by chance.
And guess what I found.
Apparently, colors were usually paired in ancient Egypt, with, and hear me out, red complementing white. Now, I wonder in which ancient-egypt-themed series we just saw two different alters trapped in coffins, one of them white and the other red...
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So, let's look up what a quick Google search has to say about how each color was perceived in Ol' Egypt.
White (Steven):
White (Ancient Egyptian name "hedj") was the color of purity, sacredness, cleanliness and simplicity. Tools, sacred objects and even priest's sandals were white for this reason.
Egyptian artists used white to depict radiance, joy, wisdom, and light.
The Egyptians believed that white represented pure cosmic light and divine grace.
It is pretty obvious why this color is associated with Steven. Out of all the alters, as far as we know he's the one with the biggest knowledge of Egypt (and therefore, the "priest" out of them). He's the emotional core, the heart of the group, the happiest one. I don't know what direction the show is planning to take with Mr. Knight and him, but as of ep. 4 I would say that the safest bet is that he's going to become the more detective-like alter, since he has already proven his knowledge, intelligence and hability to solve puzzles, which I think would fit with the idea of "wisdom" in the long run.
Now, the associations with Red (Jake) are very interesting:
Red (Ancient Egyptian name "deshr") was primarily the color of chaos and disorder – the color of the desert (Ancient Egyptian name "deshret," the red land).
Red was also the color of destructive fire and fury and was used to represent something dangerous.
Through its relation to the desert, red became the color of the god Seth, the traditional god of chaos, and was associated with death. The desert was also regarded as the entrance to the underworld where the sun disappeared each night.
As chaos, red was considered the opposite to the color white.
While red was the most potent of all colors in Ancient Egypt, it was also a color of life and protection – derived from the color of blood and the life-supporting power of fire. It was therefore commonly used for protective amulets.
I think it can be summarized as "red: chaos, danger and life, protection", with a light allusion towards death and the underworld sprinkled in as well. Now, I think this REALLY clues us into how Jake is going to be in the TV series. There is a theory going around that Jake would be a Protector alter, which, according to did-research.org (which I hope is a good source, please correct me if I use missinformation!) are "alters that protect the body, system, host, core, or other specific alters or groups of alters. Physical protectors might take or try to prevent physical abuse or become aggressive in an attempt to defend against physical abuse". Jake seems to be a physical protector for now, since the little we have seen of him (that has been "confirmed" and not just theories) he has been fronting when sensing that the other alters are in danger, either fighting against the thugs or taking a cab (hehe) back to the airport.
Therefore, I think that the decision to make his sarcophagus red is a GREAT one. It not only symbolizes the chaos and violence that he can unleash, but also aludes to how that violence serves a purpose of protection against the dangers the system may face.
One last point I would like to mention is how red also symbolizes death and the underworld. Right now, the body has been shot, and Steven, Marc and Jake have been trapped in what appears to me a mental hospital. I personally believe the theory that right now they are traveling to the underworld, not alive but not completely dead yet either. As soon as the episode finished, I started thinking about the possibility that, while Steven & Marc are trying to revive (and now there is an incredibly wholesome goddess with them that could help with that), Jake might be the one fronting and keeping up with the fight (maybe the bangs were not him trying to scape, maybe he was moving while knocking some skulls together) and therefore creating a "bridge" between the still-living body and Steven & Marc, journeying to the other side. A bridge that might help them go back to life, perhaps?
Well, this ended up being WAY longer that intended, and I'm afraid it's almost 2AM here, so. I'm so sorry. Petrawood out.
Please, if I got any detail wrong about the show, colors or DID PLEASE do tell me!
Edit: btw, for those of y'all who love Jake as much as I do, I wrote a 2k word meta about him because at this point not even Khonshu could stop me! I'm actually quite proud of it, so here it is if you want to check it out!
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littlemisspascal · 3 years
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Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3
Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal
Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader
Word Count: 1,269
Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 
Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine
Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖
Cross-posted on AO3
Entries #4-6
Look for additional notes at the bottom.
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My name is Ezra. 
I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.
It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 
Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...
I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.
You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 
And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 
I want longer.
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Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.
Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 
The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.
Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.
There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.
I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.
Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.
I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.
This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 
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When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.
My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.
It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.
There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.
So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.
The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 
But I know those words were written for him all the same. 
Notes: 
There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨
The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.
Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉
Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.
Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language
Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too
In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one
The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.
The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.
Series Taglist: @insomniamamma
Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @absurdthirst, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @disgruntledspacedad, @gallowsjoker, @aerynwrites, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @tacticalsparkles​
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COSMIC - S3:E2; Chapter Two, The Mall Rats - [Pt. 4 - FINAL]
A Will Byers x Reader Series
Baffled with Mike's sudden behavior, El seeks out Y/n and Max for advice while Will struggles to get through to Mike and Lucas. Billy takes his co-worker on a field trip, and Steve and Dustin enlist a helpful ally in their top-secret mission.
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⚠️: s3 mike wheeler, y/n and mike angst. more google translate. the reader eating ice cream [if you're lactose intolerant, it's dairy-free xp], mama steve loving and worrying about his children, his little henderson ducklings especially 🥰 *heavy sigh* oh yeah, kidnapping and more possible allegory to r*pe :( as usual, a marker will be placed but it plays till the end of the chapter so you only need one
🔑: y/f/o = your favorite [ice cream] order
📝: idk if the tip seems small or not but either way keep in mind this was the eighties so inflation hadn't gotten quite as bad yet. As far as the Mike stuff, I know he wasn't being possessive, he was just worried she would get caught and taken away or worse but also he handled it badly, and then everything else in this chapter just kinda rode that angsty bad decision train outta here lmao.
|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
"если действовать осторожно... неделя длинная. серебряный--"
Robin pauses her pacing momentarily to point at the tape Dustin has in his hands.
"Wait, that last part, just one more time,"
The sounds of the wires hissing as they rewind fill Robin's thoughtful silence.
"если действовать осторожно... неделя--"
"Okay, that word!" She says, and Dustin quickly presses pause. "Um... it's pronounced... 'dly-nna-ya.'"
"'Dly-nna-ya'" Dustin repeats, nodding excitedly.
"Which is spelled—"
"-D... D, D, D..." Dustin mutters, springing up from his seat, scurrying towards the whiteboard as Robin grabs the book. "The— The chair! The chair-looking thingy!" He says, pointing to the Russian 'д'.
"Yeah, okay," Robin mutters excitedly, hurriedly scribbling into their notes.
The glass partition swings open with a loud clang alerting Steve at the counter.
"We've got our first sentence,"
"Oh, seriously?" He asks, turning around with two orders in his hands.
"Yeah," Robin nods. She drops her voice into a lower pitch and imitates a Russian accent. "The veek is longh,"
Steve's face falls. "Well, that's thrilling,"
"I know, but," she shrugs. "Progress."
With that, she retreats into the window and slides the door close leaving Steve to return to his ice cream slinging duties.
"Okay, here you go. You got uh, a vanilla with sprinkles and extra whipped cream and one y/f/o,"
Steve hands off the rest of the orders to El and Y/n who gladly take them. Max stood next to them, digging into the order she had already been handed. She only comes up to say 'thanks' in near sync with her friends.
"Wait a second," he says, a thoughtful look falling over his face as he frowns at El. "Are even allowed to be here?"
The girls freeze, once again pausing to share a knowing look with growing ice cream-mustached smiles and giggle. In a hurry, the three of them scurry for the door. Y/n nearly makes it before coming to a skidding halt that leaves her bouncing on one foot as she catches her balance. She runs back to the counter with a mischievous smile and a dollar in hand.
Steve watches confused as she tucks the dollar away in the tip jar, and sends him what he finds to be a childish wink.
"Keep this quiet?" She asks, and he almost laughs. But he could tell she was all too serious. "Also this is your tip! Thanks, Steve,"
Steve watches utterly baffled as she turns on her heel and makes a break for the girls waiting just outside and around the corner.
"Okay?" He says, beginning to trail off. "Wasn't gonna tell anyone anyway?"
She's nearly out the door when he realizes what her being here means. He hopes it's not too late to call after her.
"Hey, wait a sec!"
Thankfully, she hears him and turns back around. He motions her forward and while confused, she ultimately complies.
"Hey, uh, does Dustin know you're here?"
Y/n tilts her head as she thinks about it then shrugs.
"I'm not sure, why?" She asks, taking a lick of her ice cream.
Steve hooks a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the window but he pauses when he realizes it's better she doesn't know what he's doing here. He quickly plays it off and plants both hands on the counter to lean against it.
"I don't, uh— It's just that he came by earlier and he seemed pretty down about last night,"
Y/n's shoulders slumped immediately, her eyes widening a little.
"He did?" She winced, nibbling nervously on her lip as she looked guiltily at her ice cream. And in doing so, any budding feeling of anger and protectiveness vanishes in Steve. "It's just, he wasn't there when I left and I assumed he went with the guys to Mike's."
With the same, guilty look in her eyes, Y/n glanced over her shoulder at her waiting friends and Steve instantly regretted bringing it up. He sighs, shaking his head.
"Look, it's—"
"If he comes back, will you tell him I'm sorry?" She laughed a little, very sheepishly. "That we can guilt Mom off the TV again so we can a have a monster movie night like we used to, or something?"
In that moment Steve decides not to be honest with her and tell her he's probably still too upset for that, he just doesn't have to heart to. Nor does Steve have the guts to say it wouldn't matter anyway, that he's right in the back room decoding a top-secret Russian communication. So instead, he forces his lips into a firm line that was supposed to be a smile and nods.
"Sure thing, kid,"
She perks a little. "Thanks, Steve. I'll see ya later,"
"Alright, take care," he straightens from the counter, watching as she retreats back out of the shop. He sighs again, almost hating how soft and protective he's become, and calls after her, nodding discretely in El's direction. It all comes out in the form of annoyance, though, naturally. "And don't be stupid, alright?"
Y/n smiles in response and returns to her friends. Together, the three of them disappear into the crowd.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
One of many sets of double doors swing open as Y/n, El, and Max step back out into the sunlight.
Despite their every desires to keep their special day at the mall going, the three girls knew the bus back into town was leaving shortly. Y/n takes another quick and frantic lick of her fastly melting ice cream as Max turns to El and gestures to her strawberry ice cream cone.
"Wanna trade?"
El responds with a giggle and eagerly trades off her vanilla cone for strawberry.
"No... fair," Y/n grumbles, nearly attacking her ice cream as it turns to a puddle before her eyes. She spares only a single second glare enviously at their still freshly frozen cones while she has spent between licks.
"You're not," lick. "making your," lick. "ice cr━ shit!" two licks. "melt."
The girls giggle again, wholeheartedly amused by the sight before them.
"Shut up," another lick.
"That's ridiculous," came a nearby, all too familiar whine. "Why can't I just—"
Max's face falls into a glower, pulling Y/n and El into a stop next to her. "Oh, you gotta be shitting me."
Just across the concrete entrance, fumbling to separate their bikes from the bike stands were Mike, Lucas, and Will.
Forgetting her melting ice cream momentarily, Y/n takes a moment to sigh at the ground when she realizes whatever is about to pass, will be far from good.
"—haven't got that much," Lucas says.
"Okay, what if we split it?"
"Split it with what? Does that even make sense?"
Two of the three boys continue to bicker, completely unaware of the three angry figures making their way towards them. More specifically, two angry figures and one slightly disgusted one who tosses out her nearly finished ice cream cone and the napkin she used to wipe her hands off with in the trash cans they all pass.
"Isn't this a nice surprise?" Max asks, plastering on a smirk as the three boys and their bikes come to a halt before them.
Mike's face pales when he realizes Max had caught him, and even more so when he realizes El is with her. His bike crashes to the ground, forgotten as he gapes at her.
"What are you doing here?"
"Shopping." She answers matter-of-factly, her icy stare never once wavering.
"This is her new style," Max says, eyeing him carefully. "What do you think?"
"What's wrong with you?" He spits, gesturing to El. "You know she's not allowed to be here."
"What is she, your little pet?" Max fires back.
"Yeah. Am I your pet?" El asks.
"What? No!"
"Mike, she needed this," Y/n says. "Besides, you lied to her! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here either."
Mike finally turns his wild gaze to Y/n, utterly baffled at the stance she was taking.
"Are you kidding me?" He gawks, ignoring her eye roll. "You of all people should know about keeping her a secret,"
Y/n hotly takes a threatening step forward. "Meaning what?"
"Meaning you would know, you're good at hiding her,"
Everyone inched closer, apart from El who was seething at Mike. Y/n, on the other hand, scoffs loudly, throwing her arms up in frustration.
"You said you were over that!"
"Yeah, well, guess I'm not,"
She looked around quickly, her voice falling into a whispered hiss. "What, so I should be locked up all day, too?"
"Maybe!" Mike said, instantly feeling guilty.
"Mike!" Will snaps, stepping forward another few inches. And so did El, her shoulder subconsciously shielding Y/n. Shielding her from, Mike, or Mike from her, she wasn't sure.
But she knew she was livid. And hurt.
Mike sighs, putting his face into his hands and running them tiredly over his face.
"I'm sorry, that was over the line," he sighs, sounding embarrassed.
"-You're damn right it was," Y/n snapped.
"But that doesn't change the fact that she really can't be here," he corrects himself, looking El in the eye carefully. "You can't be here. It's not safe,"
"I can take care of myself," El says.
"I mean," Mike sighs again, frustrated as he trips over his own words. "you and a lot of other people could be in danger if anybody starts asking questions. I just care about you, alright? And I don't want anything to happen to you, not again,"
El shakes her head, all visible anger melting away leaving only sadness in its wake.
"Then why do you treat me like garbage?"
"What?"
"You said Nana was sick,"
The panic returns to his eyes, and he and Lucas desperately try to cover their tracks.
From over their shoulder, Y/n meets eyes with an exasperated Will, and the couple shares a look and tired shake of the head.
"She is. She is sick!"
"Yeah, sick— she's sick," Lucas nods. "She's super sick. And that's why we're here, actually."
Y/n silently meets Will's eye again and makes out the subtle firm line he presses his lips into and the small shake of his head 'no'.
Oblivious to Will, the two continue.
"Yeah, w-we're shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana,"
"For Nana."
"Also," Mike sighs, giving El an earnest look. "we're here to get a gift for you. It's just, we couldn't find anything that suited you and I only have, like, $3.50, so it's hard."
"-super hard." Lucas sighs, giving an honest, apologetic look to all three of them. "It's— It's expensive,"
"Speaking of," came Will's, softened voice. "Here ya go. Sorry it's not real,"
He takes a step forward and sheepishly offers the small goodie bag to Y/n. Everyone watches confused and almost a little intrigued as Y/n takes it curiously. Quickly, she dives her gaze and hand into the baggie and smiles as she pulls out the small y/f/f candy ring.
"Oh, a ring pop?" She flashes Will a beaming smile as she rips open the package and slips it on her finger. "Thanks, Will,"
He nods happily, completely relieved she was this happy to get one.
Y/n's smile drops instantly when she remembers what they're interrupting and she quiets, clearing her throat a little.
"Sorry," she mumbled, sending an especially sorry look to El as her hand graces her shoulders in a gentle apology.
El sends her a weak smile, eyes falling back down. Sadly, she looks to her ice cream and then deeply into Mike's eyes as the day's events all come crashing down on her. And it's with great disappointment she realizes what has hurt her, and what hasn't.
She shakes her head softly, the disappointment evident on her face now more than ever.
"You lie," she says finally, all the more saddened to see Mike squirm under her gaze, only confirming her words. El shakes her head again. "Why do you lie?"
She waits and waits and when Mike can't give an answer, the screech of the bus's tires in the distance tells her a decision must be made. And it's with a seething glare, El makes up her mind.
Everyone watches carefully in silence as she takes three tantalizing steps until she's staring up at Mike. He's frozen, as is everyone else as he fears her next words. And he has every reason to.
"I dump your ass."
Y/n's eyes find Will's once again, this time, regret clouding them when she realizes. Tonight was meant to be spent at his house, dinner with him, Jonathan, and Joyce at least but it seems the day had different plans in mind. She stood rooted to the spot, her lips parted in shock as she processed what had just happened.
She detected sadness in Will's eyes, as she was used she had in her own but reality came crashing down, breaking her from her spell.
"I'm sorry," she sputters, more so to Will than Mike and Lucas. "I didn't think she would," she breathes.
"What?" Mike's widened eyes land on her, flickering between her and El's retreating figure. "Did you tell her to do this?"
"Of course not!" She said, eyes darting between him and Lucas sympathetically. "But it's still their decision. I'm sorry. I am,"
"Y/n! You coming?"
Y/n looked over her shoulder to find El and Max moving up the line, nearly ready to board. From there, El looked between Y/n and Mike, as if she were worried Mike would take it out on Y/n more. Y/n gave her friend a weak, reassuring smile and turned back to the guys.
Will specifically.
"I'm sorry," she said to Will, beginning to back away even though she didn't really want to leave him. "But I think I need to be with them right now. Is it okay if we take a rain check?"
Will smiled, nodding and she felt a fresh wave of guilt. She could have sworn she saw a hint of sadness but if it was ever there, he had buried it for her sake.
In a spur of the moment, she ran forward and planted a kiss on his lips before pulling back. She shot Lucas and Mike a lingering look, not really knowing what to feel for them in the moment.
And then she took off.
The three friends stood baffled, reeling from how much everything had changed so quickly. Their legs kicked into gear and followed the crowds to the bus but the doors had just swung closed. From where they stood at the curb, they could make out three familiar lingering silhouettes from behind the tinted windows, all piling in together.
Max had nabbed the window seat, El seating herself next to her. It was only a matter of moments before Y/n had joined them, plopping herself in the seat directly behind them. She peeked out over the low backs of their seats, wedged right in between them with a breathless look.
For just that moment, the three best friends sat there in stunned silence before breaking into a breathless laugh.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The sun had set behind even the lowest of valleys, bathing the town in a pale glow and unforgiving chill that couldn't be quenched even on the hottest days of summer. Starcourt mall was alive in every way but one; the hum of the neon lights reached every corner, but the mall had long since closed leaving it a beautiful, vibrant wasteland.
The only remaining occupants were tucked away in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, standing before a whiteboard facing the daring truth they had worked so hard to uncover. In perfect sync, they read the words aloud with confusion muddling their brains and exhaustion filling their systems.
"The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west."
Steve, Robin, and Dustin stand before the translation willing something to make sense. But all they were left with when they turned in for the night, closing the grated metal gate that went with closing up shop was utter bafflement.
"I mean, it just..." Steve sighs into the ground, the keys in his hand turning in the lock. "It just can't be right."
"It's right," Robin assures. When Steve returns to his feet the three of them begin their lazy journey to the exit.
"Honestly, I think this is great news," Dustin shrugs.
"How is this great news?" Steve chuckles bitterly. I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."
"It's not nonsense. It's too specific. It has to be a code."
Steve's face screws up into a puzzled pout. "What do you mean, a code?"
"Like a super-secret spy code,"
"That's a total stretch,"
"I don't know, is it?" Robin scoffs.
"You're buying into this?"
"Listen, just for kicks, let's entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What'd you think they were gonna say, 'Fire the warhead at noon'?"
"Exactly," Dustin gestures, his gaze returning up to Steve to see the gears spinning in his head.
"And my translation is correct," Robin assures. "I know that for sure, so... 'The silver cat feeds'. Why would anyone talk like that unless they're trying to mask the true meaning of their message?"
"Exactly!"
"And why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the true meaning of their message was somehow sensitive?"
By now, Dustin was rubbing his triumphant smirk in Steve's face. "Exactly."
"So I guess that confirms your suspicion," Robin says, looking to Dustin who remains triumphant.
"Evil Russians,"
Robin wears a tired smile as she looks back at Steve with a dry chuckle. "I can't believe I'm about to agree with this strange child, but, yeah, totally evil Russians."
"So how do we crack it?" Dustin asks, flashing his charming toothless grin her way.
"Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges."
"A pattern. Right, like maybe 'silver cat' is a meeting place?"
"Or a person."
"Or a weapon,"
"It's probably gonna take a super genius to track it, but..." Robin trails off when she notices she is one dingus short. "Where's Steve?"
The new duo spin on their heels where they spot their missing friend a few yards down. He had a frown screwed onto his face as he stood in front of one of the many kiddie rides, his hands diving into his pockets no doubt searching for coins. Sure enough, the clinking of coins rattling together as he purs them out in his palm confirms their suspicions.
"Hey, Steve," Robin calls, her empty hand swinging limply out in a puzzled gesture. "What are you doing?"
"Uh, it's," Steve doesn't bother answering her question and the only time he picks his eyes up off his hands is to check the mechanical horse for its cost. "a quarter. I need--" he mumbles to himself, looking hopefully to his friends. "Do you have a quarter?"
Despite her confusion, Robin lets out a chuckle, and she and Dustin quickly shuffle over to Steve's side. "Sure you're tall enough for that ride?"
"Quarter!" He yells, jumping forward to catch the coin Robin flipped out for him.
He catches it with a clumsy spin and drops his knees to insert it into the ride. They watch was Steve remains huddled on the ground, a funny look on his face as the ride begins. Robin can't resist poking fun, and does with little strain on her voice to be heard over the music.
"You need help getting up, little Stevie?"
"Shh-shh! Shh!" Steve snaps, gesturing to the galloping horse. More specifically the music it plays. "Would you two just shut up and listen?"
Robin and Dustin are almost shocked at his seriousness, but the smile remains on Dustin's face from Robin's comment. That is until it eventually slips off his face when he realizes why the familiar tune being played before them was so familiar.
"Holy shit," he breathes, locking eyes with a grave-looking Steve. Dustin looks to Robin, helping her to connect the dots as he begins shedding his backpack from his shoulders. "The music,"
He had heard it all day. They all had while translating the tape. The very tune Steve had been complaining so much about.
"The music!" Dustin cries again, dropping to his knees as he desperately fishes his bag for the tape.
How had he not recognized it? Y/n and him used to ride the Indiana Flyer at the fair as soon as they were old enough. And then the caricell, over and over every year until they were old enough to ride the bigger rides. And even then, the tune carried out across the Fun Fair where it could be heard from as far as the top of the Ferris wheel. The two of them would drag their mother every year. It was the sound of his childhood.
Dustin presses play on the tape, and as he gazes up at Robin, silently pleading for the dots to connect the sound of the song on the tape is louder than Russian for the first time all day.
But Robin only shrugs between them.
"I don't understand,"
"It's the exact same song on the recording,"
"Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?"
"The 'Indiana Flyer'? I don't..." Steve shakes his head. The look on his face made clear he wished he was wrong. He looked... unsettled. "I don't think so. This code, it... it didn’t come from Russia."
And they that unease. They could feel it settling into their chests, making their hearts beat a little faster and their stomach twisting up into knots at what he said next.
"It came from here."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The roads are empty, even still. Crickets sing into the night and the steady breeze taking itself through Hawkins back roads are momentarily swept up with the leaves when a lone Chevrolet Camaro pulls into Brimborne. The lot remained abandoned, seemingly, other than the figure stepping out of the car, with sweat on his brow.
The summer sun had set hours ago, taking the searing heat with it. But the humidity that clung to the air felt to be Billy like he was sitting far too close to an open fire. But still, he lumbers to the trunk where the reason for his being here lies.
The latch opens with a loud clunk, and the trunk lid opens slowly. His eyes find the contents immediately, as does the murky light from the trunk bulb onto his face.
She was still unconscious.
A foreign voice in his brain — the one who had brought them both here, the one to have put here — spoke up again without permission. And yet, it didn't exactly speak in words, but feelings. And all that shot to the surface was one thing — one word.
Good.
It was Billy who couldn't stop thinking about it. What he had done. The small part of him that fought.
[■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■]
- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -
Among the pain, Billy feels tears building up inside him when he realizes what that tug in his gut is ordering him to do. He can also feel it happening again. He can feel himself slipping away, just as he had when he fled for the showers. But this time he fought it.
God, he fought it so hard.
But it wasn't enough.
His nails dug into the flesh of his knees that he had been clutching so tightly to his chest. That and the tears racing down his cheeks now blending with the water were the last things to happen that were truly Billy's doing.
"Billy, are you okay—?"
The last thing Billy sees before he loses control is his hand lunging for Heather's throat. His iron grip locks her in a chokehold and her hands fly to his. Desperately she claws at his hands, her nails raking into his skin but he never flinches. She feels her feet leave the ground, her toes grazing the tile floor as he picks her up and pins her to the stall doors.
Her widened, fearful eyes look deep into his but all she finds as he rips the curtain closed is the lack of human emotion within him. His eyes were hollow, the whites of his eyes running black and they are the last thing she sees before unconsciousness overtakes her.
- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -
She's limp in his arms as he carries her throughout the darkness of Brimborne whose only source of light is moonlight spilling through the dirtied glass window panes hanging high above. He walks with all the time in the world, his eyes dead set on the last place Billy ever wanted to see again. The only sound to be heard within miles was the scuffle of his rubber soles scraping against the dirt and leaves sprinkled across the concrete.
The scratchy thumps of his boots turn to metal echoes as he disappears down the darkened stairwell. From there, inky blackness like the sludge coursing through his veins is all that can be seen. Little moonlight has survived the journey through the grated floor, but there was enough to illuminate Heather's body that he places onto the cement floor.
Soft, discomforted groans break through the duct tape over her mouth as she comes to. She rolls onto her back, confused as to why she feels pain in her head and cement digging into her spine.
But everything she needs to know becomes all too clear almost instantly when she sees Billy's hollowed eyes staring down at her from where he's perched above her. Panic sets in, and as she realizes all too late why she is unable to move her hands or feet. That doesn't stop Heather from trying as she fights against the restraints, eager to use her dried-out voice.
Her breath is knocked loose when Billy throws her back into the ground after she managed to sit up even an inch.
He keeps a small majority of his weight on her shoulders as he leans in close, his breath on her ear.
"Don't be afraid. It'll be over soon."
Tears tickle her temple when they escape her eyes. She prays for many things, but she'll even settle for the small possibility the sweat collecting on her skin is enough to weaken the tape on her mouth. Then maybe, just maybe she can scream for help.
"Just stay very still."
This specific hope fizzles away, drowning in her own confusion when, without moving his head, he looks to her and slowly peels the tape off of her lips.
She's too shocked to do anything. Too afraid. But she wasn't prepared to let that stop her. Heather was going to do something, she had to. She would.
But that all died when Billy suddenly stood up, looking almost disinterested in her as an eery, unnatural sound reverberates throughout the darkness before her. Slowly, her head turns to face the dark abyss when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye.
His face is as hard as stone though his eyes hold a flicker of struggle and pain when it all unfolds. Heather may be the only one in binding, but she is not the only one who is trapped. There is nothing at all Billy can do but watch as the large and bloodied mass of flesh stomps forward from the shadows, ready to feast.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
68 Ways To Donate in Support Of Asian Communities - [link]
FSFAPV Justice: "community family coalition that offers help and justice to families in the Twin Cities and nationwide that have lost loved ones to police violence" - [link]
30 Organizations That Are Boosting African American Educational Achievement - [link]
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Tag List:
@dickkwad​ @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa​ @miscellaneoustoasts​ @happyandlonely-blog​ @missmulti @youpi-chan​ @peeperparkour​​ @ba-responds​​ @bibliophilesquared​​ @blogforhoes​​ @witch-of-all-things-soft​​ @shawkneecaps​​ @whothefuckstolemykeds​​ @mirdall @fishswimbetterunderwater​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​​ @stranger-things4​​ @kpopanimegirl​​ @nightbu-g​​ @lozzybowe​​ @bluechildrenlickmytoes​ @spiderbitch69420​
❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥
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Text
Just for fun~!
Nickname - Toni, Tones, Wardog
Zodiac Sign - Leo
Height - Maybe 5′2″
Last Movie Watched - Uh Indiana Jones (Raiders & Temple, back to back)
Last Thing Googled - Changing Text Colors/Themes for Windows
Favorite Musician - Ugh Hella KPop/JRock... TVXQ (OT5), The GazettE, Florence + The Machine 
Song Stuck In My Head - Probably Taylor Swift’s ME with P!atD’s Brendon Urie 
Other Blogs - None that are currently active
Blogs following - HELLA (843?)
Amount of Sleep - Not enough
Lucky Number - 13 is my favorite?
What I am Wearing - Pajamas (Night Dress that says Never Sleep Alone with a dog on it)
Dream Job - One to support my hobbies & allow time to indulge them
Dream Trip - Europe (hella future maybe), IDK Salem for a Halloween Tour
Favorite Food - Cheeseburgers
Play an Instrument? - Nope. (I mean, Recorder/Guitar/Keyboard FOREVER ago but nothing I’d claim now) 
Languages - Snippets of French, Italian, Japanese and Korean 
Favorite Songs - Mummer’s Dance by Loreena McKennitt, Toki wo Tomete/My Little Princess/Mideoyo/Keep Your Head Down- TVXQ (just kidding anything by them & JYJ ok ok), Dreams/Gypsy/Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac, Shake it Out/No Light, No Light/Cosmic Love/Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine, Linger/Zombie/Dreams by the Cranberries
Random Fact - Took my dog to a show 2 weeks ago and we earned 2 titles and are working on more? IDK man
Describe yourself in aesthetic things - A Cup of Tea in front of an Open Library Window looking out on Fog OR a starry sky? 
I was tagged by @myndless88 the French Fries to my Cheeseburger. 
I tag anyone who sees this and wants to do it because I’m tired. 
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keeyo7 · 4 years
Text
I was tagged to answer these questions by a few wonderful people. Thank you @montagnes-and-vorfreude @a-storied-mindx and @eckspress :)
1. Name: Eddie
2. Gender: Male
3. Star sign: Taurus.
4. Height: 6′2″.
5. Time: 8:17 PM.
6. Birthday: May 7th.
7. Favorite band: Definitely the Foo Fighters haha
8. Favorite Artist: it would be hard to pick one but I think recently it’s been Jhene Aiko
9. Song stuck in my head currently: More Than Words by Extreme haha
10. Last movie you watched: Soul, I though it was very good!
11. Last Series: the last series I watched all of was Adventure Time and I’m currently rewatching Futurama
12: Blog age: 9 years? I started it to follow a baking blog my friend started in 2012 and my other friends were here so I stayed, I think I’m the only one left from my friends on here haha
13. Content: a mix of everything, it’s kind of whatever I enjoy haha
14: Last google: “More Than Words” I wanted to make sure I got the band right haha
15. Side blogs: i have a nsfw one I use occasionally and I have one where I reblog recipes I want to make eventually. I also had one for a webcomic I wanted to do but never got around to doing haha
16. Do you get asks: rarely, I would like more though :)
17. URL Meaning: it’s the name my grandpa gave me and my favorite number :)
18. Following: 1300
19. Followers: 1050
20. Average sleep hours: Oof I’m not sure haha. I sometimes get one and sometimes four, I haven’t had a full night sleep in a couple of weeks now
21: Lucky number: I would say 7 because it’s my favorite
22: Instruments: I don’t play anything, I’m sorry! Haha
23. Clothes: i kind of dress like an Applebee’s dad lol out in public a lot of cargo shorts, open short sleeve button ups with a blank or graphic tee underneath, and lace less sketchers. I usually wear basketball shorts and sleeveless t-shirts at home
24. Dream job: i would love to do something with dance or acting in the future
25. Dream Trip: idk, there are plenty of places I want to go but nothing that I’ve dream dreamed about
26. Favorite food: pizza probably haha
27. Nationality: American, I’m Native American and Mexican
28. Favorite song: Everlong (Acoustic) by Foo Fighters
29. Last Book: it might have been Harry Potter because I had a bet with my youngest brother about who could finish first haha
I tag @bouncing-flowers @ilyzuh @tehwitch @rikoxxlv @mysticbride @por-pendejaa @exploreurmindspreadurlegs @a-pyre-of-doom @everyfrickinnameistaken @akomwtofit @mi-corazon @thewanderingscribe @poptarttree @cultivate--saplings @greennanni @bunnpufffs @hiighlysensativa @cynisterrrr @cdeadgrl-sampson @mindxfreak @uraculo @meximiri @escape-reality-95 @lovelexi @idntwannacomedwn @janeyourslut @sixthhoekage @tequilaxxxo @der--untermensch @millievanilly @melanieis-sad @sab-teraa @lebassinaux-nympheas @maybememoriesx @dead-and-hungry @mulatto-baby @kkiska @eraserhead-baby-offical @ownedbythemoon @sleepingongodstits @a-cosmic-bandit @sainaht @littl3-mermaidd @fairy-type-islander @grl-intrptd @sensualkiwi @absur-da and anyone else who would like to do this. No pressure :)
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yikeswtfmate · 5 years
Text
(1) New Message from Unknown Number
main masterlist // (1) New Message Masterlist // next part
Summary: Y/N is drunk and can’t remember her ex’s number.
A/N: Hello, it is I, the idiot who writes Social Media AUs when she’s drunk but is too lazy to put them in the proper format and just leaves them to die somewhere on her laptop
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Social Media AU - that’s a lie, it’s actually just texts in Word format 🤡)
Warnings: swearing, dumbassery
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Unknown Number: Hey asshat so listen
Unknown Number: I kno we hvnt spoken since like
Unknown Number: High school but whateve idc
Unknown Number: U’re an asshle so I dnt even care that its like…
Unknown Number: 3 in the morning nvrmd
Unknown Number: Ive ben dared to txt my hottest ex by these evil witchS so
Unknown Number: Here u go
Unknown Number: At least u had decent abs so congrats on tht jfc
Unknown Number:  also u dnt get to complain abt this txt bc like
Unknown Number: u dated me for 6 months on a dare so U KNOW WHat this shuold feel like ya
Unknown Number: Wow dude that sounds like a dick move
Unknown Number: Seriously who the hell dates someone for 6 months on a dare?
Unknown Number: Doesn’t that only happen in movies though?
Unknown Number: hey bitchass dont act like u don’t kno what im talkinG abt
Unknown Number: Oh shit yeah, sorry. I don’t know who this asshole of an ex is but I sure as hell am not him
Unknown Number: Dude sounds like a complete waste of human space
Unknown Number: And I think I wouldn’t get to live it down if my friends would hear I did something that shitty
Unknown Number: Wait lemme ask Sam
Unknown Number: Nah, he says Steve would’ve beaten my ass if I were to do that so there u go
Unknown Number: m sorry who tf are u
Unknown Number: Bucky
Unknown Number: what kind of stupid name is bucky
Unknown Number: Shit man, u’re the one blowing up my phone at 3 in the morning, sending me weird ass messages when I don’t even know u and u dare say my name is stupid???
Unknown Number: Sheit srry
Unknown Number: Is been A long night
Unknown Number: nd week
Unknown Number: Actlly make thAt the whle entire fuckin month
Girl with asshole ex: Srry fr bothering u
Unknown Number: It‘s cool
Girl with asshole ex: Hey the witches ask if ure hot
Bonky: Yeah
Girl with asshole ex: WHAT THE FCK MAN AT LEST BE A LIL BIT HUMBLE SMH
Bonky: U wanted me to lie?
Girl with asshole ex: Fair point
Girl with asshole ex: They wnt a pic
Girl with asshole ex: Pic or it didn’t happen punk
Girl with asshole ex: Tht was nat
Bonky: What kind of party are u at that you can constantly text me?
Girl with asshole ex: Wanda’s place
Girl with asshole ex: Girls night
Girl with asshole ex: Getting hammered on wine BITCH
Girl with asshole ex: Also dnt change the subject
Bonky: I don’t even know your name
Girl with asshole ex: Why would I tell u my name I just want to see a suppsdly hot asssd
Bonky: You know mine and now you want me to send u a pic of me
Bonky: Bit of a disadvantage here babe
Girl with asshole ex: Babe?
Girl with asshole ex: BABE?
Girl with asshole ex: Fine
Girl with asshole ex: BABE if I tell u my name will u send a pic of u so we kno u arnt a 60yr old perv
Bonky: I’ll think about it
Girl with asshole ex: Hey fuck u
Girl with asshole ex: Not fair
Bonky: How do I know you’re not the 60yr old perv?
Girl with asshole ex: Cuz she got big tiddies to prove
Girl with asshole ex: And that was wanda
Girl with asshole ex: So now u know my fridsn
Bonky: Still don’t know your name tho babe
Bonky: Also tell Wanda she shouldn’t give out this type of info to strangers
Girl with asshole ex: ure not a stranger anymore bonky
Girl with asshole ex: ure my babe nao
Bonky: I’m going to let that Bonky slide just bc u’re cute
Bonky: But I’m also going to stop replying until you tell me your name
Girl with asshole ex: U think im cute?
Girl with asshole ex: 
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Girl with asshole ex: I mean u havnt even seen me but thats fair
Girl with asshole ex: Wand and nat say its true so ill believe u rnt lying to me rn
Girl with asshole ex: But I wanna see if ure cute
Girl with asshole ex: Wait why r u up st 3 in the mrng I mean we re drunk but wht r u doing
Girl with asshole ex: Babe u need to take better care of urself
Girl with asshole ex: Babe
Girl with asshole ex: Babe?
Girl with asshole ex: BABE?
Girl with asshole ex: Ph shit ure actually ignoring me
Girl with asshole ex: I dont like this
Girl with asshole ex: I actually like talking to u
Girl with asshole ex: Pls stop ignoring me
Girl with asshole ex: COME BACK AND LOBE ME
Girl with asshole ex: Babe?
Girl with asshole ex: Fine
Girl with asshole ex: It’s Y/N
Bonky: Now, that wasn’t so hard was it? 
Babe: fcuk u
Bonky: I’m up at 3 bc we ordered pizza and decided it’s time to beat Sam’s ass in Mario Kart once and for all
Babe: Nd how’s that going for ya?
Bonky: Bitch has been beating us for the past 3 hours
Bonky: Thor is the only one getting at least close to him now so we’re about to give up
Babe: Wait shit how r u replying so fast if ure playing Mario kart tho
Bonky: I gave up two hours ago
Babe: Quitter
Bonky: Just gotta know which fights to pick babe
Babe: Heads up I might be fallin asleep soon
Bonky: Drink some water before that, maybe get some food in u as well to soak up all the alcohol and have an advil close for tomorrow
Babe: Ok MOM
Bonky: Hey Wanda willingly told me you have “big tiddies” so your friends don’t seem to be doing a good job of taking care of you
Bonky: Might as well let me do it so you don’t die tmrw
Babe: Ohhhh so u careeeee babe im touched
Babe: Kkkkkk Ill talk tu u tmrw ill be dead soon
Babe: Nd I do have big tiddies
Bonky: Good night babe
*
Babe: What the shit
Bonky: I see you survived
Babe: Barely
Babe: My head might explode soon and I feel like I’ve vomited for an entire lifetime
Babe: TMI sorry
Bonky: I’d like to point out I’m glad I don’t have to decipher your texts anymore and that you can actually spell properly
Babe: Fuck you Buckaroo
Bonky: I would also like to remind you that I have on good authority that you have “big tiddies” so don’t make me use that against you
Babe: I am going to kill Wanda
Babe:Ugh I need coffee
Babe: I’ll talk to you later
Bonky: I’ll be waiting for you babe
*
Babe: So
Babe: BABE
Bonky: Yes baby?
Babe: 
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Bonky: Nah, you love it
Babe: Fine
Babe: You still haven’t sent a pic of you though. I might be able to rise Nat and Wanda from the dead if you do
Bonky: What do I get in return?
Babe: The promise that I will keep replying even though you might turn out to be an ugly orc?
Bonky: Not enough
Babe: Fine. I’ll keep talking to you until you want me to stop. Or until I get bored of you
Bonky: Eh, you can do better
Babe: What do you WANT?
Bonky: A pic of you in return
Babe: I’m not sending you nudes, perv
Bonky: If I wanted to see you naked and be a dick about it, I could’ve asked last night, don’t worry
Bonky: But if you’ll know how I look it’s only fair I should know how you look
Babe: That sounds reasonable
Bonky: I’d say it’s a fair exchange
Babe: Fine, you first then
Bonky: If you don’t send me a pic of you afterwards babe I will stop replying, just so you know
Bonky:
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Babe: Did you type super hot guy with the most beautiful eyes in the world in Google or something?
Bonky: I’m touched but no. Sam took that photo at a work event
Babe: Bitch do you really expect me to believe this is you? That looks like a guy who just stepped out of a magazine, I highly doubt I would have the luck to text him instead of my ex when drunk
Bonky:
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Bonky: Are you always this annoying?
Babe: …
Bonky: What? Do you want me to take a selfie with the fucking newspaper now? I read the news online babe, I’m not getting off of this couch just so I can buy a stupid newspaper to prove it’s me
Babe: Do you have one in a suit?
Bonky: …why am I putting up with this?
Bonky: Hold on
Bonky:
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Bonky: It’s been 5 minutes, are you going to reply?
Bonky: You still have to send me a picture of you though, a deal is a deal you know
Bonky: Fine, I warned you
Babe: Shit sorry
Babe: Hi Bucky, this is Natasha
Bonky: Hi Natasha. Is Y/N alright?
Babe: Uhm how should I put this?
Babe: Y/N is crying right now and she can’t reply herself
Bonky: What? What happened? Is she okay?
Babe: Oh yeah
Babe: She’s just crying because (and I’m quoting here) you’re “so beautiful, it’s like all my wet dreams and fantasies have come together. I swear this is some cosmic joke, this is not happening”
Babe: I’m not sure if she’s laughing or crying now
Babe: But she keeps yelling at me that I have to send you the most perfect picture of herself that has ever existed or you will stop talking to her
Babe: I think she started crying again because “I will never live up to that level of perfection, he told me that I have to know which fights to pick”
Babe: Uh yeah so here
Babe: 1 Photo Attached
Bonky: Hey Nat, could you tell Y/N that I would like to talk to her now?
Babe: Sure
Babe: Hey
Bonky: Baby?
Babe: Yeah?
Bonky: You picked the wrong fight if you think “you will never live up to this level of perfection”
Babe: Oh God
Bonky: Stop being an idiot
Bonky: And listen to me
Bonky: I would really like to keep talking to you. Mainly because you’re an idiot who makes me laugh, but it’s also the fact that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my entire life
Babe:
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litwitlady · 4 years
Text
The Story of Two Cosmic Clowns Who Fell in Love
How about some silly fun for your evening? I posted part of this yesterday. Been thinking about expanding this story for weeks. Let’s see where it goes. Here’s part one! Meant as nothing more than a tropey good time.
His last client leaves at 8:15. Alex cracks his neck and stretches his arms over his head. Tax day is always the worst, but at least he isn’t going to be stuck in the office until midnight this year. 
‘We’re leaving, boss!’ Liz shouts. Maria sticks her head in his office and gives a little wave. 
‘Take tomorrow off. Tell Liz. See y’all on Wednesday.’ Maria blows him a kiss and then they are both gone, their laughter echoing down the hallway and into freedom.
Alex sighs and starts shutting down his computer. His thoughts drift to the song he is working on and how he finally has time to get back to his true love. At least they’d had a good tax season. Revenues up 15% over the previous year. Maybe he’ll actually be able to record something professionally.
Just as he is putting his laptop bag over his shoulder, his door bursts open and a ball of chaotic energy comes barreling at him, papers shaking in his fist. ‘I need your help.’
And here it is. His newfound peace too good to be true. ‘We’re closed.’
‘No, please. I’m literally begging you. I’ll get on my knees if need be.’ The innuendo hits Alex hard. He takes a moment to drink the man in. He is a wreck - tousled mop of curls, wide golden eyes, and too much exposed chest hair. A silver and turquoise belt buckle completes the look. 
Alex swallows. So, he’s attractive. So what? ‘I said, we’re closed. Sorry. File an extension.’
‘I don’t know how to do that.’ The man shrugs, having the decency to look mildly ashamed.
Again, Alex sighs, deeply aggrieved. ‘Google it, cowboy.’ He moves from behind his desk and makes to bypass the handsome stranger, but said handsome stranger grabs his elbow to spin him around. Alex loses his balance, his prosthetic pinching uncomfortably. 
Next thing he knows, the cowboy’s arms are wrapped tightly around him, fingernails digging not unpleasantly into his back. ‘Whoa, man. I’m sorry.’ Their chests are pressed together and neither makes to move away. Alex watches the man’s tongue dart out, licking across his bottom lip. He feels his own tongue echo the movement. The cowboy grins. Cheeks flaming, Alex scrambles to get out of his grip.
‘My name’s Michael.’ He sticks out his hand. ‘Michael Guerin.’
But Alex is too afraid to touch him again and so just nods. ‘I’m Alex.’
Michael smirks at him. ‘Right, Alex Manes. Said so on the door.’ He pushes the crumpled papers back at Alex. ‘I can pay. Well, I can pay in installments, anyway. Or labor! I’m very handy.’
Alex desperately tries to pretend that his mind doesn’t immediately picture Michael’s long, calloused fingers wrapped around his cock. He shifts awkwardly back to his desk counting backwards from ten to calm himself and his ridiculous libido. Frustratingly reminded of how long it’s been since he’d slept with anyone. ‘I really think you should file an extension. That looks like a lot of paperwork.’
‘I do contract jobs, mostly. These are all my 1099s.’ He hands them over to Alex, their fingers lightly brushing. Alex jerks back like he’s been burned. Silently curses to himself. Shuffles through the documents as a distraction.
‘There has to be over a dozen forms here. You’re definitely filing an extension because I refuse to do any more than that tonight.’ He sits back down at his desk and pulls out his laptop.
‘Hot date?’ Michael bypasses the chairs meant for sitting and hops up on the desk. He starts fiddling with a stapler.
Alex snorts. ‘Yeah, with my dog. She’s probably starving. Thanks to you.’
Michael swings his legs around the desk so that his thigh and Alex’s arm are pressed together. ‘Does all this mean you’ll help me?’
But for Alex, words have lost all meaning. Michael’s thigh is hot – like, excessively so. And firm and inviting and too much. He tries to discreetly edge away from the contact, but Michael’s leg is having none of that. Where Alex goes so does that very thick, very sexy jean-clad thigh. He swallows. ‘The fee will be high.’
Michael’s face lights up. ‘That’s fine! Um, do you mind me paying in labor, though? Money might take literal years. As you’ll soon see. And the sign outside does need some serious work.’
‘What’s wrong with my sign?’ Alex dares a glance up at Michael. It’s a mistake. All he sees is mouth and lip and teeth. Plus, he’d forgotten about the chest hair.
‘Besides the name, you mean?’ Michael cocks his head and raises an eyebrow.
Alex blushes. ‘It’s a long story.’
‘A long story?’ He leans back, hands bracing him from behind, thighs spreading. Alex longs to crawl between them and put his stupid expensive desk to work. See if he’d gotten his money’s worth.
‘Yeah. I lost a bet.’ He turns his eyes back to the computer screen.
‘So, not that long a story, then?’ Michael winks, badly – looking more like a muscle has spasmed. And that should be unattractive. Embarrassing even. Except Alex wants to watch him fail at winking for maybe the rest of his life.
This night must end. And end quickly.
‘Hey, at least Cosmic Clowns, CPA is memorable. And it’s got the whole alliteration thing going for it.’ Alex thinks vaguely of Kyle Valenti and that stupid bet. Knows his business’s name is unforgivable. But he’s ready to defend it to the death anyway.
Michael gives him a ‘yeah right’ look and nods his head pitifully. ‘Even clown schools don’t actually use the word ‘clown’ in their advertising.’
Alex scoffs. ‘Lies. You’re making that up.’ He finishes filing Michael’s extension and shuts the computer – hopefully, for the last time.
‘Google it, Captain.’ He looks down at Alex, reeking of self-satisfaction.
But all Alex hears is that word. A word he thought he’d rid himself of years ago. It’s like a cold shower and a lava bath all at once. ‘Why did you call me Captain?’
The humor in Michael’s face disappears, reading Alex’s discomfort immediately. ‘Sorry. I’m just aware of who you are. Hero’s parade and all. Won’t happen again.’
Alex’s voice goes all business. ‘Your extension gives you six extra months to file. Well, I guess it gives me six extra months to file on your behalf. You can start work Wednesday morning. We open at 9.’ He gives Michael a thin smile, repacks his bag, and motions the other man forward.
They exit the building in silence. Michael turns to say goodbye, but Alex is already halfway down the block, limping slightly. Michael watches him climb into his Explorer and pull away. He tucks his keys back into his front pocket and decides to get a jump-start on fixing the cracked sign above him – half its lights dead or dying. Imagines the look of surprise on Alex’s face when he gets to work Wednesday morning. And who needs sleep with the promise of a beautiful boy with a pretty smile in their future? Certainly not Michael Guerin.
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antediluvianprose · 4 years
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Tagged by: @whitesharksk , thankus
Name: Andrew
Gender: Idk
Star sign: Socrpio
Height: 5'10''
Time: 6:50 pm
Birthday: Nov 4
Favourite bands/groups: For heavy stuff um; Wolves in the Throne Room, Bell Witch, Yob, The Body, Primitive Man, Incantation, Nile, Meshuggah, Animals as Leaders, Gorguts, Ulcerate, Svartidaudi, Misthyrming, Thantifaxath, Imperial Triumphant, Neurosis, etc etc
For less heavy stuff it's more like; Brand New, Interpol, Phoebe Bridgers, Joy Division, Cloud Nothings, The Antlers, Snail Mail, Elliott Smith, City and Colour, Waxahatchee, Timber Timbre, Pixies, Cinder Well, Nicole Dollanganger, Teen Suicide, etc
Song stuck in my head: Mmm been listening a lot to Limousine by Brand New. wamp wamp
Last movie: Her and then before that Sound of Metal and I think Saint Maude before that
Last show: Working my way through Shameless
When did i create this blog: 2017?
What do i post: It says on my blog but basically anything creepy or weird or spooky. Anything that gives me that feeling. You know the one.
Last thing i googled: Meinl cymbals
Other blogs: Nope
Why did i choose this url: I've basically been using handles like this or similar for a long time. Anti-cosmic philosophy and religion is interesting from a moral perspective and combining that with prose just seemed like good aesthetic. Literary musings for the death of the cosmos. Plus they're never taken so
Following: 4987. I've been sorting a lot through the ppl I'm following cuz I'm near the max and unfortunately need to cut some blogs out
Followers: 1792 :P
Average hours of sleep: I sleep a lot, like 12 hours a night at least
Lucky number: Mmm. 213. I run into that number a lot it seems
Instruments: Mostly drums, but I play a bit of guitar and keyboard and I'm a pretty good producer
What I'm wearing: Satanic Warmaster shirt, Void Meditation Cult hoodie, and some plaid pajama pants lmao
Dream job: If i could sustain myself off the grid that'd be cool. Also any job in the arts would be nice but idk if that's realistic for my skill level
Dream trip: I'm not much of a traveller. Inner locus is more important than outer. That being said, anywhere with good metal shows would be cool to visit. Been wanting to hit up Maryland Deathfest for a while, but we'll see how long that takes to become a thing again
Favourite food: Um, eggs benedict, chicken cordon bleu, a good steak, thai curry, pho, poutine, neopolitan pizza, etc
Nationality: Canadian
Favourite song: This is a hard one, um... let's go with Epilogue by The Antlers
Last book i read: I read a couple books at a time. Right now I'm reading through Frankenstein, Slaughterhouse-Five and re-reading Wuthering Heights
Three fictional universe I'd like to live in: I mean if true universal plurality exists, there are no fictional universes. Infinite possibilities means that anything you could possibly come up with exists somewhere. But idk. Training pokemon could be cool lmao
I'll tag: @valley-of-sacrifice @somardani @nospheratusblack @cryybaabyyyy @birdamnesiadetective @a-pyre-of-doom @rotting-deadnight-warrior @alienannihilator @dysmorphixx @daemoniumgod @pestilencese
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saturneves · 3 years
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thank you @blu3haw4​ for tagging me! :D
1. Nickname: i don’t really have one, but people call me saturn in the tags and i love that so ig that’s my nickname :D
2. Pronouns: she/her
3 Star sign: sagittarius 
4. Height: 169 cm 
5. Current time: 20:03
6. Birthday: december 15th
7. Favorite band: florence + the machine 
8. Favorite solo artist: hozier and taylor swift maybe? definitely hozier
9. Song stuck in your head: queen of peace, florence + the machine and mother, florence + the machine (basically every florence song rn oops)
10. Last movie you watched: spirit stallion of the cimarron
11. Last show you binged: orphan black
12. When you created your blog: maybe two years ago soon? i’ve only been consistently active in the last year or so though
13. Last thing you googled: HELP i googled “star coins codes 2021″ because i’m broke in star stable- 
14. Other blogs: art blog :D
15. Why I chose my blog: i suppose this means the url? i chose saturnlexa because saturn is my favorite planet + the clexa song™, and i chose lexa because she’s my favorite character ofc. i wanted “saturnus” for my art blog but it wasn’t available so i went for saturnvs instead :]
17. How many followers do you have: main blog has 642 and art blog has 519
18. how many people are you following: 194.. i’m really bad at following people on here
19. Average hours of sleep: uhh no idea but maybe 6-8 hours on a good night
20. Lucky Number: i don’t think i have one ?
21. Instrument: none ://
22. What I'm currently wearing: flannel pajama pants and my old washed-out girls like girls shirt :,)
23. Dream job: NO IDEA. maybe something to do with art but i really have NO idea
24. Dream trip: i’m not a person who enjoys traveling a lot but i’d love to go to iceland
25. Favorite food: i’m a picky eater so i’d probably have to say either pancakes or a... bland taco or something
26. Favorite song: i can’t choose just one so... queen of peace, cosmic love, dog days are over, various storms & saints, my boy builds coffins, blinding... let’s just say florence + the machine’s entire discography. also love like real people do and cherry wine by hozier right now :,)
27. Top fictional worlds: my top 3 in no specific order would probably be hyrule (breath of the wild), jorvik (star stable online) and.. the 100 is gruesome but i’d love to live in polis so 
Tags: i don’t know who to tag so.. if you see this, feel free to do it!! :D
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redhairedwolfwitch · 4 years
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Stargirl and Black Canary III - Part 3: The New Justice Society of America
Blue Valley, Nebraska
As soon as you saw headlights, you threw one of the smoke pellets you had hidden in your suit to the ground, disappearing into the night as Pat pulled up in his car, not his robot.
Turns out the rockets you heard were from an overhead plane.
Your disappearance into the night got the attention of Courtney who was glancing around for you as Pat honked, gesturing for them to clear off.
///
“What were you intending to do last night?” Pat enquired to Courtney, the next morning as they were in the kitchen for breakfast. Barbara had already gone to work and Mike was upstairs.
“The staff brought me to that apartment, to a woman who the next day, worked at the cafe and acted so normal, yet we return the next night and a new vigilante with a super scream kicks all four of our butts?” 
“Did you say a super scream? Like, a canary cry?” Pat asked, looking more and more interested as the conversation went on.
“Yeah, Dr Mid-Nite’s goggles analysed the woman and found records of the JSA’s Black Canary, something about her having two daughters, one whose disappeared and one who had a child...” Courtney began, Pat nodding along until he realised.
“I’ll handle the new Black Canary, okay? What you need to do, is get Wildcat’s costume and Dr Mid-Nite’s googles back. I’ll handle Rick and the hourglass-”
“But I can’t just-”
“Court, do you want your new friends to end up like Joey Zarick?” 
Courtney’s face fell at that...
///
You were standing behind the till of the cafe, ‘working’ as you watched the apparently new mechanic’s shop across the street, a hot coffee in your hand as you sipped it.
“Lance, I’ll take it from here, thank you for holding down the fort-” You just nodded, taking the offering of iced coffee before ducking out of the cafe to head across the street.
You were sipping on the paper straw as you headed inside, spotting who you were after as they were working on a pick-up truck that looked like it had been punched into two.
“Hey, Stripesy.”
You withheld a laugh as you heard a thunk of a head hitting a metal car bonnet.
“Excuse me-” Pat Dugan began before his face of fear and fake confusion melted.
“You look just like your grandmother when she was younger.” Pat stated with a smile that made you just shrug.
“If she knew I was in Blue Valley, she’d murder me herself.” You remarked, sipping your ice coffee.
“What brings the granddaughter of Dinah Drake to Blue Valley?” Pat enquired, putting down the rag in his hands after wiping off the muck.
“It’s a long story, but, I’m guessing you just had a failed conversation with the new Hourman?” You changing the subject didn’t get past Pat who just frowned.
“Why are you here...” 
“Y/n, Y/n Lance. I’m looking for my aunt, she was a vigilante in Starling City, the second Black Canary after my grandmother... she disappeared and barely anyone remembers her, let alone has any evidence she existed... like she, vanished in a crisis... anyway, I found my grandmother’s JSA files in the loft and decided to move my studies and entire life out of Starling City, to Nebraska...” You explained, ice coffee in hand before you rested it on an oil can as Pat folded his arms, leading against a metal table.
“What happened last night?”
“You mean when Stargirl, Wildcat, Hourman and Dr Mid-Nite came after me?” You exclaimed, making Pat just nod, an unamused look on his face as he realised what those four had been up to.
“It was my second night in the apartment, it was late and I was working on my...jacket, when I see a glow outside the window. Stargirl was outside, hoovering on her staff, looking in, I think the Cosmic Staff dragged her to me after training or something. Then the next day, four teenagers come into the cafe and don’t stop watching me. Then, the New Justice Society of America arrived last night, we fought a little since they wanted my JSA files... they aren’t the quietest bunch, Stripesy. After that, you arrived and I disappeared... by disappeared I mean I went to bed.” You explained, folding your arms as Pat just nodded.
“Thank you for not permanently deafening any of them, Y/n.”
You just hummed at that, glancing at the punched car.
“They’re going to get their butts kicked...” You mumbled, noticing how Pat just nodded.
“They’re going to get themselves killed if their luck runs out.” Pat agreed but you just sighed, staring into your ice coffee.
“When reality settles in that they’re fighting people who have had years of training, they’ll want to train too, they’ll realise they’ll die if they don’t. Icicle will kill anyone in his way, it’s why the Zarick family are dead, no matter what the news says- “Stripesy, we have a problem.” You interrupted yourself, making Pat look even more confused.
“Did you just-”
“Let’s be real, you could work at NASA with what your skills, anyway, Empire Enterprises’ systems have a glitch that I’m 100% sure is The Gambler...” You stated, staring at the tablet that you had in your backpack.
“Right uh-” Pat began, gesturing to the staff only door.
“You got somewhere I can change?” You enquired as you followed Pat through.
“That is one awesome robot.” You added, gesturing at S.T.R.I.P.E. before hurrying into the bathroom to suit up.
///
“Uh so, I only have my bike but that’s for Y/n Lance, not the Black Canary-” You began but Pat had already got into his robot.
“Climb on and hold on tight.” S.T.R.I.P.E’s voice over system threw you off before you spotted the handle bars on the back of the robot.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You uttered, climbing up to the handle bars after a couple of attempts and using a table as a spring board.
///
It was way past sunset when S.T.R.I.P.E and the Black Canary arrived on the scene at Empire Enterprises, your eyes on the four teenage superheroes facing off against what looked like Sportsmaster and Tigress... oddly, the car park had a lot of lighting for a car park...
You’d manage to jump down from S.T.R.I.P.E after it landed, standing in slightly behind the gap between Stargirl and Dr Mid-Nite.
“Don’t worry, they’re with us.” Stargirl explained, turning with the others to face Sportmaster and Tigress.
“Date night’s over...” you barely heard it but you saw the shuttlecock flying towards the six of you.
“Ah crap.” you exclaimed, barely having enough time to realise what was happening before the smoke cleared and the two Injustice Society of America members were long gone.
“Kids, let’s go, now.” S.T.R.I.P.E boomed thanks to the stereo system.
///
Sipping from a enamel mug, you watched Yolanda Montez, Rick Harris and Beth Chapel stare at the robot S.T.R.I.P.E whilst Courtney and Pat had a heart-to-heart upstairs.
“Also, who are you?” You glanced up at Courtney who was staring down at you, gaining the attention from the others as you glanced around.
“Y/n Lance, Black Canary, Starling City native and on enough caffeine that I’m probably going to be awake all night at this rate...” you explained, making Pat deadpan.
“You know your grandmother would kill you-”
“She’s not here, Pat. She’s in Starling City, running a flower shop.” You stated, rolling your eyes into the enamel mug.
“Dinah Drake? Running a flower shop?” Pat began but you just shrugged.
“Family business that started from the aunt that vanished, basically...” You uttered, sipping your drink. “You ever just get an irking that there’s something important but you’ve not figured it out?” You asked, making Rick frown.
“What are you talking about?” 
“The phrase, like parent like child... Rex Tyler and you, Courtney and Starman, my grandmother, my aunt and me, maybe it works on both sides, like Joey Zarick and his father, Wizard? Oh, I figured that out by drawing a mustache on one of those councilman brochures...” You rambled but Pat just blinked.
“I feel like the point within that is, you’re on so much caffeine that you’re doing a version of what your grandmother did-”
“My grandmother sang, I just ramble...” You replied, gesturing with your cup before heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” You heard but you just shrugged.
“Honestly, to bed.” You admitted with a shrug. “We need to actually have decent sleeping patterns so fighting the ISA doesn’t turn into fighting to stay awake because you were up all night.” You replied, making Pat clap.
“Honestly, we should all hop on that train, don’t you four have school?”
You were already long gone after you heard the word train.
///
Your eyes widened as you finally looked at your phone, glancing over the messages from your grandmother before typing out a reply, throwing your phone onto the bedside table as your face went into the pillow, lulling yourself into a deep slumber.
Shiv
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maybememoriesx · 4 years
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I was tagged to answer some questions by @keeyo7
1. Name: Kelli
2. Gender: female
3. Star sign: Virgo
4. Height: 5'1"
5. Time: 8:21 pm
6. Birthday: September 2nd
7. Favorite band: The Used, Shinedown and Starset
8. Favorite artist: probably Henry Baker.
9. Song stuck in your head currently: At the moment nothing.
10. Last movie you watched: last movie all the way through was Scott Pilgrim vs the world.
11. Last series: The Queens Gambit
12. Blog age: 11 years I think.
13. Content: Art, music, animals, memes, sad stuff, quotes whatever I like.
14. Last google: My works booking website so I could see how many rooms are booked so far this weekend
15. Side blogs: a photography one, a painting one and a NSFW one that I don't really use.
16. Do you get asks?: rarely. I'll get the occasional anon who thinks they like me but we never talk.
17. URL meaning: it's a song by The Used
18. Following:
19. Followers:
20. Average sleep hours: uhhhh maybe 4 at night then 2 or 3 in the morning after being up some hours.
21. Lucky number: 13
22. Instruments: no lol
23. Clothes: mostly leggings and teeturtle shirts.
24. Dream job: wildlife rehabilitater
25. Dream trip: Ireland or Fox Village in Japan
26. Favorite food: Chicken, cheese, cheesecake
27. Nationality: American, German, Italian, Scottish
28. Favorite song: Blue and yellow
29. Last book: I have no clue lol
I tag @hectorharmonics @a-cosmic-bandit @unicorn-cupcake-lace @wishie113
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Text
The Big Reveal
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Part 7 of Seventy Percent
Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…
Chapter Summary: You bring your best friend up to speed on your new situation... and Sebastian gets a new name
Word Count: 2165
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“Okay, what the hell is going on with you?” Jasmin asked, her brown eyes boring into yours through the screen.
Maybe it was being around an actor for the last three days, but you decided to draw the suspense out a bit, just for the drama of things. “Did you cut your hair? It looks shorter. I like—”
“Y/N.”
“I’m in New York.”
Her mouth dropped a little. “But, you were just in Vegas. Right?”
“Yeah. And now I’m in New York City. And…” This next part was definitely Sebastian’s fault. You had wondered how to break the news to Jasmin, and he suggested the big reveal by just holding your left hand up to the camera so she could see the ring.
Which you did.
And she squinted at her computer screen, trying to figure out what she was seeing on her Skype screen. Obviously she knew what it was and what it meant. But connecting those to you?
“Is that…”
“I’m married.”
Somehow, you’d knocked her speechless.
“And I’m in New York. And I’m moving here for a while, at least.”
“Married?”
“Remember how you joked about how awkward it would have been if I had woken up married to my one-night stand? That’s exactly what happened.”
“And you ran off to New York with him? Sweetie, if this is some sort of last chance to let loose thing, you know that I’ll support you. But this isn’t just, like, a fling that you can leave behind. You got the friggin’ government involved.”
“And a doctor or two.”
“A… are you pregnant?”
“Jasmin! I only met him, like, three days ago! First off, that is biologically impossible, right? To know that quickly if you’re pregnant? Second, I’m on protection.”
“So you did fuck him?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember. Which, if I did, is really too bad. Would have loved to remember that.” You had to get away from the topic of Sebastian. Jasmin was a chatter. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. “No, I’m not pregnant. The doctor’s we got involved are, uh, oncologists.”
Whatever she had been about to ask about the man you were married to seemed to dry up in her mouth and she stared at the screen. “Oncologists… Does that mean…?”
You could tell she was too scared to hope. Just as you had been.
So you nodded and tried your hardest to keep your tears locked away as her lower lip started to tremble. In a voice thick with emotion you stated simply, “I’m in a clinical trial, Jaz.”
“Wha—how?”
“My, uh… my husband. We were about to get an annulment. By about to get, I mean we were literally in the courthouse in Vegas and he mentioned that… he brought up the fact that I can get on his insurance, if we stay married.”
“And you, what? Jumped on a plane to New York?”
“Fuck no. I tried my damnedest to push that annulment. But he won’t take no for an answer for anything. He convinced me to see his oncologist friend here and if she said the same things Dr. Patterson did, then we’d go through with the annulment.”
“But she got you into a clinical trial.”
“Seventy percent, Jaz.” Her hand flew up to her mouth and you stopped trying not to cry. Tears were streaming down both of your faces. “I have a seventy percent chance that my tumor will shrink and I can get it removed. By the best neurosurgeon in the fucking country.”
“Sweetie,” she choked out.
“Seventy percent. I mean, according to Dr. Sharpe and Dr. Chowdhury, my cancer is getting much more aggressive, but that’s what this clinical study is directed towards. I just… I’m scared, Jaz. I’m scared to-to-to… to hope. I’m terrified to remind myself what optimism is. But… what are the odds, Jaz? That I’d wake up in Vegas, married to a great guy who has the means to save my life. Who had the connections to get me into this clinical trial that just started? What are the fucking odds that I went to Vegas this last weekend, instead of next weekend when I was originally planning on it, especially when Dr. Sharpe said that my cancer would have been too far progressed to get me into the trial in a week?
“What if this is all just a cosmic joke?” You started spiraling downward. “What if this is God’s way of, I don’t know, punishing me for leaving my family like I did. For everything that happened with my family. He makes me hope, then He takes it all away. This is such an aggressive treatment, I mean, I only had one infusion today and I’m already feeling it. What if I can’t do it? What if I just… my body just… it just gives out?”
“Y/N!” She shouted though the speakers, in the way that let you know she had been saying your name for a while. “Babe, breathe.”
“You got me through chemo and you’re thousands of miles away now.”
“But you have a husband now so…”
She was fishing. You hated lying to her, but she was literally the worst at keeping secrets.
“And I can’t tell you who he is. Because, I love you, but you would keep it a secret for three days, maybe? And, uh, I just can’t tell you his name.”
“Is he famous? Rich? Cute?”
“All of the above. Which makes this all so much more insane. But I just really don’t want you to hate me for not telling you.”
“Oh, I hate you for sure. But I still love you.” She blew you a kiss. “If I guess his name, will you tell me if I’m right?”
“Absolutely not, because I sure as hell do not need the paparazzi yelling questions at me as I’m being wheelchaired out of the hospital.”
“Fair point, fair point.” Her expression softened and she adjusted her computer on her bed. “I’m so happy for you, Y/N/N. I know you were ready to, well, not give up, per se…”
Your fingers scratched at the back of your head as you nodded, to let her know you understood what she was saying. “Did I tell you that… I need to come up with a codename for him because I can’t tell you his name, but calling him my husband just sounds so fucking weird.”
“Okay, tell me a few of the names that aren’t his, and I’ll help you come up with something.”
“No. Nice try.”
“Fine.” She thought for a moment. “Would calling him Jesus be too much? I mean, he is a life savior for you.”
“Might be. Seventy percent means that there’s a thirty percent chance I don’t make it.”
“Medically you have a seventy percent chance, but universally? You’re gonna make it. Look at how you made it there.”
Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you looked down at your lap before returning your gaze to Jasmin. “I need you to keep reminding me of that. Don’t let me push you away just because you can’t physically climb into my bed and make me acknowledge that you love me.”
“If you gave me your boo’s phone number, I could make sure he makes you talk to me.”
“I gave him yours, in case there is an emergency. So, if a New York number calls you, um, it might not be spam? I told him to text you first just saying he was going to call you. Since, you know, neither of us answer unknown numbers.”
“I got a call from Apple Inc today at work. Apparently Siri is calling landlines because she’s worried about my iCloud account.”
“Ah, yes. Your iCloud account. On your Android.”
“Definitely not a scam call.”
“Of course. Just Siri being a concerned friend.”
“She called four times in one hour.”
“Girl, you better check out your iCloud account. This could be a major breach of confidentiality.”
“I’ll do it after we come up with a codename for your hubby. What color are his eyes?”
“Eyes?” You asked. “He ain’t got not eyes.”
She stared you down flatly until you broke into a grin, giggling.
“I suppose it can’t hurt. Blue. Or, uh, blue-green?
“Merman,” she said without hesitation.
“Merman?” You repeated, taking a drink of water from the glass you had on the bedside table. “I, uh… sure? My merman. That sounds super stupid, but I’m in. Maybe we can call him Aquaman?”
“Jason Momoa?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, so you’re not married to Jason Momoa, then?”
“Pretty sure he’s already married, so I’m not revealing anything.”
“You sure about that?”
She gave you the side eye that was so convincing that you pulled up a Google search to confirm that, yes, Jason Momoa was indeed married already.
“So, tell me about Jason Momoa.” She sat forward on her bed with her chin in her hand.
Fuck, you missed Jasmin so much. “He’s really nice. That’s kind of obvious since he’s willing to stay married to me so I can go through cancer treatment, despite the, uh, obvious downsides for him. He’s working out right now. Super fit. Uh… Let’s see… He took me to Hamilton on Broadway yesterday and this hole in the wall restaurant with the best tacos. I’m talking even better than the taco truck on State Street. He, uh, wouldn’t let me talk myself out of the treatment. He kind of forced me to get more tests done, because the doctor wanted some tests. So that’s a negative point in his score.”
“Positive point, I think you mean. I love this guy already.”
“Yeah you do.” She was a Marvel Devotee. If she knew you were married to Sebastian Stan, she might just internally combust.
“I do? So he’s one of my celebrity husbands?”
“Not anymore. He’s my celebrity husband now.”
Her head bobbed up and down a few times as she considered. “So. Back to something you said about your celebrity husband… what did you mean by the obvious downsides to staying married to you?”
Why the hell had she caught onto that slip?
“It’s just… Jaz, you know how much debt I had to go into during my last treatments. And my student loan debt. I mean, I don’t think he’s legally obligated to that, but I don’t know for sure. And-and-and even besides that. I have fucking cancer. Cancer. If I’m part of the thirty percent… or if I make it to surgery, then die in the O.R… He’s… That’s another person who mourns me. He barely knows me and he’s willing to go through bitchy Y/N. You remember chemo-Y/N. I was a fucking disaster.”
“Did you talk to him about that?”
“Sure. After Dr. Sharpe told me I had a seventy percent chance. What kind of decent human being would take back their offer to save someone’s life after they saw what I’m sure my face looked like? I should have told him back at the courthouse in Vegas. He’s… He doesn’t deserve this. I shouldn’t—”
“Shut the fuck up. You shut your fucking mouth right the fuck now.”
“Wow, Jaz,” you muttered. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“I learned from her. Y/N. You worry far too much—”
“But I don’t—”
“Yes you do. You thought that I would stop being your friend after you yelled at me for not changing the toilet paper roll after the third week of your chemo. You thought that the mailman hated you because she kept delivering your credit card bills month after month—”
“I went paperless, but they keep sending paper statements when you owe as much as I do—”
“And let me tell you, that mailman had a crush on you so you can fucking shut your fucking mouth.”
“She did not.”
“She fucking did. But my point here is not that our lovely mailman, Camila, is in love with you—”
“Love is a stretch.”
“—But that you overthink things way too much—”
“I know I do.”
“And you also think far too little of yourself. Look at me, Y/N.” You kept your sarcastic quip in check as you looked at the screen (the screen showing her eyes, sure, but the screen nonetheless). “You are so worth it. Whatever I went through and will go through. And whatever Jason Momoa goes through for you.
“You. Are. Worth. It… Everything.”
Emotion overtook you, and you turned your laptop camera away from you for the moment.
It wasn’t that you hated yourself. It wasn’t that you thought you were nothing.
You just had a hard time thinking that you… that you were someone. You weren’t no-one… but you weren’t someone either.
You didn’t matter as much as other people.
“And when you have your tumor removed, Jason Momoa and I are sure as hell gonna make you realize that you are fucking amazing.”
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Going into cancer treatment with your best friend living thousands of miles away isn’t going to be easy... I guess we’ll just have to see how her self image holds up without Jasmin’s constant reminders.
Part 9: The First Week
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theres-a-goldensky · 5 years
Text
16 + 2 Reddie Fic Recs pt. 2
I’m back and still on my Bill Hader bullshit, so here’s another round of Reddie fic recs, because I can’t stop reading and sometimes sifting through the insane amounts of fic is a nightmare. So if you feel my pain and need some (at least in my opinion) fun stories, then come along with me on a magical journey filled with men crying during sex, hypochondria, and your mom jokes.
As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:
IT chapter 2 list part one - Reddie
Good Omens fic 
The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian
Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)
Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.
All my recs are completed, almost all of them are post-It chapter 2. * - denotes a favorite
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1. I killed a clown. AMA! by liesmyth - ~10,000 words, teen - The history of Eddie and Myra’s marriage shown through their posts on reddit. The voices here are great, and it really feels like reading the reddit forums, down to the people sleuthing through their past posts and comments to try and figure out if what they’re saying is real or an elaborate troll.
 r/relationships
Posted by u/martymcfly6xo 7 months ago
 My (39F) husband (39M) likes horrible stand-up comedy. How can I stop him from bringing this up in front of our mutual friends?
For the last year or so my husband has been watching a lot of stand-up comedy on youtube. I want him to have something relaxing to do (he works a lot and gets really invested in his ‘hands-on’ hobbies in a way I’m not sure is good for him) but I was very puzzled by this discovery as he likes very crass acts and that is certainly not the kind of humor hubby usually enjoys...
2. all of the kids back home believing much more than you do by eatcheeseliveforever - ~11,000 words, explicit - This is a fix-it fic, which is becoming more and more rare in this fandom as we collectively started deciding that Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t need to be brought back to live, because he never died in the first place, dammit. It has some great pining by Richie. You can really feel his grief and desperation as he searches for a way to get Eddie back. The other Losers are great in this too, especially Mike with his whales.
"A boat, actually," murmured Mike.  "I'm on a whale-watching cruise."
Richie mouthed the words "whale watching cruise" to himself.  Empirically he knew such things existed, that they happened not far away from the coast where he lived, but it felt like several fucking galaxies away from where he was, surrounded by the ghosts of takeouts and blackouts past and the actual ghost-ghosts, who he couldn't step in or stub his toe on at three in the morning, but hurt so much worse.
"He said you've been googling resurrection rituals."
Richie scrounged through his pile of empties, hoping one wasn't.  "Bill talks too much."
"Richie."  A sigh, or a wave, or a really quiet whale.  "You're not going to find a resurrection ritual on Google."
"I've found hundreds," said Richie.  "Funny thing, though, they all seem to call for orgies.  Or virgin sacrifices.  Or sacrificing someone's virginity in an orgy.  I'm hoping Ben will volunteer as tribute."
3. * - you’ve got the answers to my confessions by QueerOnTilMorning - ~17,000 words, explicit - This is the good stuff right here. Richie accidentally sexts Eddie and Eddie is IN. TO. IT. This fic starts with excellent phone sex, there’s misunderstandings and confessions in the middle, and then it ends with super hot sex. There’s a brief part with karaoke that was a bit of a lull in the story, but doesn’t take away from how great the rest is.
     suck on ur tongue  
     show u how much I missd that mouth  
     when u start getting weak in the knees  
     thats when ill get on mine  
 He set the phone aside to unzip his pants, palming himself through his boxers, already half-hard.
 Then he froze.
 The text he had just replied to--it was what he'd expected Travis to say, but it wasn't how Travis would say it. That text began with a capital letter and contained punctuation. That text was from--
 "Oh, fuck, no," Richie whispered, and his phone rang.
 Incoming call: Eds
4. * -  L'Appel du Vide by Mackem - ~92,000 words, teen - I know, I know, almost 100k and no sex, but hear me out! The pining in this fic is so exquisitely beautiful and wrenching. Eddie’s POV is excellent and feels really spot on. The other Losers are well represented, especially Ben and Bev. In fact, the group dynamics here are almost as good as the relationship stuff. The later chapters bring in a subplot about the deadlights that I wasn’t that interested in, but it’s still done really, really well, and that’s only a side plot that doesn’t impact that exceptional story of Eddie and Richie figuring out how to stop being dummies.
Two messages, however, are from Stanley, sent to him privately. He opens them, and is met with a picture of Richie, apparently taken without him realising.
It shows him laughing, his eyes crinkled at the corners behind his glasses, and his smile bright and broad as a hand gestures wildly in the air. The other hand is in his hair, pushing it out of his eyes as he tilts his head back, displaying the line of his throat beneath his stubble.
The breath is punched from Eddie at the sight of it.
He stares at it for a long moment, surprised by the depth of his reaction. His stomach is swirling happily, a bubble of excitement growing at the pit, and he cannot help but feel a heated flush build at his cheeks.
It’s probably just because Richie looks like he’s enjoying himself. It’s good to see his friend having fun. That has to be it.
Then he reads Stan’s message.
Stan: He was talking about you. He does that a lot.
5. my love a beacon in the night - by zach_stone - ~4500 words, explicit - Richie is on the road doing shows through Christmas. His friends have a surprise for him. I know it’s almost Valentine’s Day, but it’s never the wrong time for a fluffy Christmas story imo.
 “Yep, just got to my hotel,” Richie says. “Now I’m getting ready for my big Christmas Eve plans.”
 Eddie snorts. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
 “Well according to my TV guide, they’re doing a rerun of The Mistletoe Promise, so I’m all fuckin’ set,” Richie says, grinning when Eddie laughs. On Eddie’s end of the line, he hears the sound of cars passing by, the muffled chatter of people, and says, “Are you outside?”
 “Huh? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says.
 Richie glances at the clock on the nightstand. It’s after ten; Eddie’s not one to be wandering around Times Square after dark. He frowns slightly. Eddie’s been unusually vague about his holiday plans, so Richie has no clue what he’s up to this evening. Not that it’s any of his business. Maybe he’s started seeing someone and is spending the holidays with them. Richie has a sudden image of Eddie, arm-in-arm with some generically pretty woman, taking in the lights and decorations around the city. It opens a pit in his stomach.
6. Coming Back and Coming Out: Richie Tozier's 2019 by Lunatical - ~2000 words, teen - I genuinely adore the mixed media fics that this fandom has spawned. This one is an excerpt from a magazine interview with Richie as he restarts his career.
Slouched on his couch in a cheesy Hawaiian shirt and torn-up jeans, Richie Tozier looks exactly like the manchild he is describing himself to be. Next to him, sitting up straight and dressed in a lovely suit that most people would consider appropriate for an interview, his husband rolls his eyes.
When we scheduled this interview, Tozier insisted we hold it at their house, citing a desire for the interview to be “as chill as possible”—in his own words, of course. He argued that seeing the two of them in their usual environment would help me get a better idea of the kind of relationship they have. After walking into their apartment and seeing the way they’ve decorated the place, I have to admit that I can understand why.
7. baby, there’s no other superstar by kaspbrakziers - ~7000 words, mature - Another mixed media fic that shows the progression of Richie and Eddie’s relationship and Richie’s career through tweets, texts, and interviews. Eddie not knowing how to turn off the capslock on his phone absolutely sent me.
Search history
Today Sunday, 13 November 2016
should i get a divorce? - Google Search
Unhappily Married: Should I get a divorce? - Yahoo Answers
10 Signs Your Marriage Is Over - Buzzfeed
how to divorce? - Google Search
How To File For Divorce (With Pictures) - wikiHow
how to divorce someone without them getting angry? – Google Search
can you divorce someone without telling them? - Google Search
8. Goes on Trips for the Scenery by InkandOwl - ~4500 words, teen - Eddie dies and then comes back to life and tries to get some perspective. I liked the conversations between Eddie and Richie and then way that Eddie starts to take care of himself. The end is really sweet.
If cosmic power and a literal alien space clown’s death wasn’t going to bring him back to life, Eddie was certain that the terrible pain of hearing Richie beg, his tears dropping onto Eddie’s face, probably would’ve done it. He feels sick just thinking about it. About what it all means. “Yeah, Rich, I will.” He could throw a jab at him, tell him something about eating like an adult for once, but he wants to be easy with him right now. Richie deserves it. “You’ll text, right?”
Richie looks down at the prepaid cricket phone in Eddie’s hand and laughs, “There’s no fucking way that thing gets texts.”
“It does.” Eddie grins, “You could call too.”
The fight drains from Richie, his shoulder slumping and he sighs, “Yeah, Eds, I’ll call.”
9. cause i'm about to blow that back out by thotgreeves - ~5000 words, explicit - Here, have some porn. Eddie wears lingerie and Richie loses his goddamn mind. Features submissive top Richie and his unending boner for Eddie.
Richie really should have learnt to never underestimate Eddie Kaspbrak by now. It had come close to killing Richie once, but Eddie might actually be trying to finish him off.
Because the other perk of always letting Eddie go ahead of him was that it gave Richie a prime view of Eddie's ass. Eddie knew about this part and was okay with it. He was wearing a high-waisted pair of slacks that Richie was pretty sure came from the women's section, slightly loose in the legs but nicely filled out by his ass. Richie had been very vocal in the past about how hot they got him, which signaled that Eddie definitely wanted to have sex tonight, and that was already enough to make Richie's dick twitch in excitement. He hadn't been prepared for the finishing blow.
Richie's eyes were fixed, pendulum-like, on how Eddie's slacks were hugging his butt perfectly with every step he took, tight enough to show off the outline of his underwear. Only the folds didn't sit where Richie had expected them to. Instead, Richie realized, his mouth going dry, that in the absence of boxers, there was only a V-shaped crease running from Eddie's hips to between his asscheeks, which could only mean-
Eddie was wearing a thong.
10. * - I’ll Be Homo For Christmas by Amuly - ~15,000 words, explicit - Bill and Audra get a divorce, so Bill moves into Richie’s house with him. Eddie, watching all of this from New York, where he’s still married to Myra, is super, super ok and fine with it in every way.
Except then Richie started posting.
Just stupid shit, mostly with Bill. It wasn’t even real. Eddie knew Bill wasn’t gay and him and Richie were just fucking around ‘for the ‘gram!’ But the more posts Eddie scrolled past on Richie’s Instagram—
 Bill in the kitchen swatting at Richie with a spatula.
 Richie and Bill at the pound, Richie rating dogs on adoptability, Richie begging Bill to adopt a dog with him.
 Richie in the morning with bedhead, smiling blearily into the camera as Bill…
Well. Eddie couldn’t even remember what stupid thing Bill was supposed to be doing in the background of that photo because his eyes couldn’t get past Richie’s bedhead and shirtless torso, chest hairs creeping up towards his collarbones and the little dip at the base of his throat.
Eddie hadn’t thought he was homophobic. But he must have some unresolved issues with it, because he got a stomachache every time he looked at that photo of Richie. Eddie popped a Tums and resolved to talk about it with his therapist.
11. A High-Five is a Hug You Can Hit by Amuly - ~26,000 words, explicit - This fic shows us times throughout their friendship when Eddie and Richie would invent reasons to touch each other without even knowing why. This author feels the same bone deep conviction about Richie crying during sex that I do, and I greatly appreciate that. Plus, all of their stories are fantastic, including this one.
“You know, one of the symptoms of hypothermia is feeling like you’re warm. So like, your body gets so cold that it gets hot, and then you start taking off your clothes-”
“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Eddie?” Richie shot back at him without turning around.
“Why don’t you ask your sister how much she liked it last week!” Eddie hollered up at him. Richie just flipped him off without looking. That kinda… bugged Eddie. What the fuck did Richie think he was doing leading up the group with Bill? Why was he stuck back here with Stan? Eddie glanced over at Stan, who was trudging tiredly through the woods alongside him, breath puffing out in little clouds of smoke.
“Okay, Stan?”
Stan glanced over at him, confused. Then he shrugged. “Yeah, fine. Cold.”
“Well that’s better than feeling warm.” And now Eddie was back on track. “Because, if anyone starts feeling warm, they should tell the others immediately. That’s a sign of hypothermia. And we have to warm you up. But you have to do it gradually, you can’t just jump in like, a pot of boiling water-”
12. * - fall apart of stay intact by kaspbrak_kid - ~19,000 words, teen - A more melancholy take on the Christmas fic. This story takes Richie’s self-esteem issues and mental problems and amps them up in a way that feels entirely realistic. The gang comes together to celebrate Christmas, and everyone is walking on eggshells because last Christmas was a bad one for Richie. Also, Eddie moves into the house literally right next to Richie’s, and I find that detail endlessly charming.
“Five minutes ago. I called you, and you didn’t answer. Because you were outside, apparently, fucking...stargazing in December! With no hat on!”
“It’s about the Vitamin D!” Richie says. Now that he’s moved a little, he can really feel the cold—his ears are aching, and his face is numb. “Reflecting off the moon, or something. I have seasonal depression, you know!”
“You have seasonal stupidity,” Eddie mutters, audibly rubbing his hands together. “Just get inside.”
“Yours or mine?” Richie jokes.
Eddie doesn’t get the memo. “Mine, obviously. I’ll make you hot chocolate.”
“Oh,” Richie says, and sits up. “Um. Okay, be right there.”
“Oh, thank god,” Eddie says, and hightails it to his back door, cursing about the cold.
13. evidence of a happier future by lagaudiere - 23,000 words, mature - I am here, leading the Jealous!Eddie revolution. Why aren’t there more fics about this. Have you SEEN Eddie Kaspbrak, can you IMAGINE him jealous? Make this happen, fandom. Anyway, in this one, Richie has a boyfriend back in LA. Eddie has trouble dealing with that as he tries to figure himself out and pick up the pieces of his life post-Derry.
“It’s not gonna be like Mike’s announcement, don’t worry,” Richie says hastily. “And it’s not like, a huge thing, so don’t make it a huge thing. But you guys are like, my best friends, and I just wanted you to know that I’m, uh. Gay.”
He turns up his palms and raises his eyebrows in a gesture that suggests a magician presenting his audience with an empty hat after making the rabbit disappear, and Eddie says, “Are you joking?”
“What? Jesus, no, Eddie.” Richie’s face falls, and Eddie instantly feels guilty. “I’m trying to be sincere here.”
“Sorry,” Eddie says immediately, feeling all of their friends looking at him with reproach. “I was just — if you weren’t, I wouldn’t think you should… joke about it.”
“Well, I am,” Richie says. He sounds slightly put out — and who wouldn’t be, Eddie scolds himself, by that ridiculous response. “I have all the gay credientials. I have a boyfriend, partner, whatever people say. I don’t really tell people because of the whole, stage persona, thing. But yeah.”
“Richie!” Bev’s voice breaks through the awkwardness, and she reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for telling us. Really.”
And the others all join in, a chorus of voices telling Richie they love him and they’re proud of him, and Ben is saying, “I wanna see a picture of the guy!” and Eddie’s throat feels like it’s closing up.
14. The ‘Do Not Fucking Touch Me’ Tour by MellytheHun - ~23,000 words, explicit - It’s Richie’s comeback special, and he makes it a big one. This...isn’t really a comedy show, but the author lampshades that. It’s an excuse to have Richie talk about how much he loves each of his friends individually, and it’s extremely entertaining. Richie doesn’t know that Eddie is in the audience watching it all.
“Hey, uhm… Eddie… he couldn’t reschedule his thing? He - I mean... it… it was really that important?”
She feels awful for him immediately, but not wanting to spoil what would ultimately be a lovely surprise, she tells him, “I’m sorry, Rich. He said it was urgent. He was really sorry about it.”
Her phone buzzes with a text from Eddie right as Richie curses under his breath, missing the noise. She clutches her phone more tightly in her fist, knowing Eddie is wondering where his seat is going to be; she bought him a separate ticket, elsewhere in the theatre, so Richie wouldn’t catch him sitting among them, as he will absolutely, inevitably look over to the Losers for most of the show.
“Okay,” Richie surrenders sadly, “Uh - I guess he’ll see it eventually, right?”
Smiling forlornly at him, she pats his arm, and tells him, “don’t worry, Richie. Your genius will inevitably be forced upon us all.”
He smiles at her, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and when Bill jokingly asks why he didn’t get one, Richie flips him off, and reminds them to treat themselves to the bar in the lobby.
Once he’s backstage, Beverly takes her phone out, and emails Eddie his ticket, explains that she’s already convinced Richie he’s not coming, and to make sure he doesn’t show up too early, or Richie will notice.
15. The List by cissues - ~7000 words, teen - Eddie finds a list he wrote as a teenager. Richie tries his best to fulfill them all. This is very sweet.
‘ All the things I want. Everything I’m not allowed to have. A perfect summer. ”
The words hit gentler than he thought they would, but they still hit and he finds himself blinking away at a wetness at the corner of his eye. He wipes at it and sniffles and Richie peers sidelong at him to make sure he’s okay. He is, he’s fine, and Richie never dotes on him when things are, generally, okay. Only when he needs it, which is one of the many things he loves about what they have now.
“This is… this is like a fucking  bucket list  for the most repressed child in the world.” Richie says, breathless.
Eddie rolls his eyes to hide the sting. “You’re looking at him,” he says, bitter. Richie frowns at him but turns back to the paper. Another thing Eddie loves, Richie never takes his trauma-induced bait. His knee-jerk reactions developed over years of what he’s now comfortable enough to call abuse.
16. Richie Tozier Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions by DeadpanMage - ~2000 words, teen - This is a short one, but the transcript of this popular YT video format with Richie felt spot on in terms of characterization and Richie’s voice.
[Back to the text screen: “So WIRED asked Richie Tozier some of the internet’s burning questions.” Cut back to Richie, now holding a poster board with several Google autocomplete searches half covered.]
Richie: I’ve undergone something of a rebranding in the past year, so I wonder how many of these questions are going to be super irrelevant-slash-embarrassing. Probably all of them. Let’s get started! [He tears the covering off of the first question.] Alright, that’s not bad. “How to pronounce Richie Tozier?” Well, we’re only on question one and I’ve already said it like a hundred times so there you go. And that’s “Richie Tozier” spelled J-O-H-N M-U-L-A-N-E-Y, so if you’ve got any complaints be sure to send them that way. Next question!
You can check out a larger list of stories I’ve enjoyed in my AO3 bookmarks. And finally, if you’re interested, here are the two fics I’ve written:
1. Waiting For a Sign - ~6000 words, explicit - Eddie meets Richie again and comes to the startling realization that he totally wants to hit that.
Maybe if Richie wasn’t famous, Eddie could have found a way to let it go. A couple furtive jerk off sessions in the shower after he got back to New York and the image of Richie’s big hands and wide smile and improbably flattering stubble would fade from his mind.
But Richie was famous, and the internet never forgot.
Eddie lasted three days before giving in and typing ‘Richie Tozier’ into the YouTube search bar. Just seeing Richie in the thumbnails was enough to make Eddie’s heart thud, what the fuck. He had to scroll past a bunch of news videos about Richie's supposed mental breakdown, but after that he landed on some old stand-up.
Before he clicked on the first video, he got up and made sure that the door of his study was locked. Then he turned off the lights and put on a pair of earbuds.
Fake It ‘Til You Make It - ~21,000 words, explicit - It’s that totally relatable situation where the man you’re secretly in love with is a celebrity who just came out and now needs a fake boyfriend to keep himself in the spotlight. Eddie offers to help out of the goodness of his heart and not because he’s insanely fucking jealous.
Eddie froze, breath catching in his throat.
Richie looked...really good.
Bev’s influence was obvious. His hair, which had been unkempt and shaggy, a perfect match for his stoner permakid schtick, was cut much shorter and neater. His formerly unruly stubble somehow now emphasized the sharp cut of his jaw instead of obscuring it.
He wore new glasses, Eddie noticed. Slim silver metal frames instead of his giant, clunky plastic ones. The fitted black sweater and dark blue jeans were simple, but made his shoulders look impossibly broad and his legs miles long.
Fuck everything and Beverly Marsh in particular.
LINK TO MY FIRST SET OF REDDIE RECS 30+ FICS
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