#or just i needed one specifically for my ~tastes~

[cherrycolored-punk]

NHTK - Chapter Two

Masterlist

pairing: brother's best friend! Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, reader is Reefer Rick’s little sister.

w/c: 6.2k

author's note: this is a repost from my previous blog @strangemagicc but somewhat re-written, some of their story has changed. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please reblog if you did, support is always appreciated!

warnings: angst, mention of cheating (technically not reader), mention of anxiety and a past car accident, brief mention of money issues for reader

Then:

“Fucking shit!” 

Eddie can hear the worry in your voice as he rounds the corner. The sound of his heavy boots against the tiled floor catches your attention.

The fear is vibrant in your eyes when you turn to him, a quiet cry for help and he can’t help but chuckle at the scene. At the state of your brows pushed together, face twisted in horror.

He looks over your shoulder, noticing that the popcorn is overfilled and smoke is billowing from behind the glass doors of the machine. Charred pieces of popcorn fall into the vat; the burnt smell wafts around you and fills the air.

“Way to go, Little Lipton,” he laughs and moves around you to turn off the machine.

“Shut up,” but the words come out like a whine.

You’re already annoyed that he caught you creating a mess and even more peeved that he’s looking at you with that cocky smirk of his.

“Alright,” he sighs heavily, “this one is going to be out of commission for a bit, so we’ll need to make sure that one is always prepped with fresh kernels,” he tilts his chin to the only other popcorn machine and leans against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Out of commission?” Your voice raises an octave, face twisting in horror as his words make alarms blare in your skull.

“Yeah,” he chuckles as though his next words are obvious.

“We have to clean this one before we use it, or all the other batches are going to taste like shit, and that’s not the easiest or fastest task.”

“He’s going to kill me,” you groan and drop your head back.

He being your manager and a major pain in your ass since the day you started working here. Mark wanted things a certain way; candies lined in a specific direction, cups displayed for the customers to see, popcorn made to perfection and not burnt until it turned to dust.

“Probably not kill, just maim,” Eddie shrugs with a crooked grin, a glint of amusement in his chestnut eyes as he stares down at you.

“You never told me what to do if I burnt the kernels,” you abruptly look up at him and swat at his arm. 

His smile grows wider at your display.

“That’s because I told you not to overfill the kettle and never thought you’d ignore that tidbit,” he sighs dramatically, “guess that’s what I get for thinking.”

Reflexively he moves out of arm’s reach before you can do any serious damage.

Eddie enjoys the way your lower lip juts out, how your forehead creases between your eyebrows when you are mad, and fuck, were you pissed.

It had been nearly two weeks since you started working at Hawk Theater, trying to save up for the new camcorder you’d been eying, and Eddie had been assigned to train you.

Or his form of training, which was a lot of “this is how they want us to do it, but this is what works.”

The problem was that you’d been distracted.

It was the way his smile lifted to the side and the way he tied his long curls into a messy ponytail. How he’d look at you when you caught onto something quick or the reassurance he’d quickly give when you didn’t. And sometimes, the sun would shine through the windows and hit his eyes just right, making them look like molten honey.

You couldn’t help the nervous flutters that sprung to life when he was near, your childhood crush resurfacing with teeth and taking hold of you.

It made it hard to listen and remember the instructions he told you, like not to fill the kernels past the very obvious line or else.

He never expounded on the or else, but negative consequences were heavily implied.

“You’re such a jerk,” you rebut, but the venom fell flat, the insult sounding endearing to Eddie’s ears.

“You already knew I was, sweetheart. Don’t know why you expected anything different now that you work with me,” he begins cleaning out the popcorn machine. Dumping the burnt kernels into the trash can before adding the cleaning solution to the kettle.

Your heart is still fluttering, replaying the single pet name over and over again.

“Guess that’s what I get for thinking,” you mimick him and begin helping him clean so the two of you would be ready for opening in thirty minutes.

Eddie watches you from the corner of his eye, the way your gaze is lit with mischief as you tease him, and he can't help but smile to himself.

“Are you two trying to set this place on fire?” Mark Huntzberger, the manager, bellows as he came down the stairs from his office. He eyes the mess you made with a stern, critical eye that shifts over the concession stand and back to you.

The air still smells of burnt kernels and puffs of smoke still swirl in the air - highlighted by the afternoon sun peeking through the windows.

You can’t help the way you shrink under his scrutiny.

“I know this may just be some summer job to you, but this is my livelihood. If you can’t get it together by the end of the week, I will make sure this one fires you.” He points a fat finger at Eddie before turning his attention to him. 

Munson’s face has gone flat, eyebrows set in a straight line. Jaw tense.

“It was an honest mistake,” Eddie interjects.

“Clean it up,” Huntzberger orders before disappearing into the ticket booth.

“Why did I think this was going to be easy or fun?” You question more to yourself than to Eddie, shoulders tense as you tie the trash bag containing the burnt kernels before pulling it from the bin.

“Because the town fuck up works here, how hard can it be?” He nudges you with a wink, wiping the inside of the soiled popcorn machine with a clean rag.

“Move over, Eddie. Someone’s about to take your place,” you giggle and walk towards the exit doors that lead to the alley behind the cinema.

Eddie drops the rag into the popcorn machine, following you outside.

The summer air is suffocating with its humidity—the sharp stench of spoiled food wafting from the dumpsters causing you to wince as you approach the dumpster.

“Don’t do that. It’s the only thing I got going for me,” his grin grows wider as he walks in step with you.

He was all self-deprecation all the time, and you begin to wonder how much of it he really believes—the thought causing a pang of sadness to twist in your gut.

You lift the bag over your head, but he stops you, taking it from your grasp and hoisting it into the metal canister.

“Y’know it’s not true, Ed’s,” you begin, brushing your hands off and looking up at him. Eyes nearly squinted closed from the intensity of the sun.

“What’s not?” He questions, leaning against a brick wall that hid the dumpsters from the rest of the alley.

You stand in front of him, toe to toe, trying to hide the way your gaze dances over his face. Tracing the freckles that line his nose and admiring the dimple pushed into his cheek as he smiles at you.

And fuck, he’s caught you staring.

“That you don’t have anything else going for you,” you clear your throat, “you have lots of talents-“

“Ah, yes, I am known for my natural ability to annoy and antagonize,” he interrupts, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re so annoying,” but the words sound more affectionate than irked.

“I’m being serious,” you begin again, “I mean, I don’t know many people who can learn a new song on the guitar half as fast as you. Didn’t you learn Master of Puppets in like a week?”

You shrug, doing your best to be nonchalant.

“And what about all the stuff you know about cars? Or the random tidbits about pop culture and music? You’re like an encyclopedia britannica,” you continue with a small laugh.

“For all things useless,” he corrects. 

You poke his side causing him to flinch away from your touch, swatting your hand in the process.

“I mean it!” You insist, gaze holding his. 

It’s the exact look you get when you’re excited about something, and Eddie chuckles, ears turning a shade of red from the attention you’re giving him.

“You’re just trying to flatter me so I don’t fire you,” he jokes, but you continue to look up at him with a dramatic bat of your eyes, inching closer.

“Is it working?” You retort, exaggerating the breathiness of your voice.

For a brief moment, you see his confident facade falter - his eyes darting between your eyes and the plush of your lips as he swallows hard. 

But in an instant, it returns.

“Flattery always works with me, sweetheart,” he winks and turns back to the building.

There it was again.

Your heart stops, skips, and starts again as you will your legs to move. You watch his retreating frame, eyes boring into the back of his head.

“You coming?” He doesn’t stop walking, and you take wide steps to catch up with him.

Before you walk back through the door, you grab his arm and turn him to face you. He’d successfully evaded your compliments before, but you needed him to know it wasn’t empty praise.

“I meant what I said, Eds.” 

He looks at you with a questioning perk of his eyebrow but doesn’t verbalize his confusion so you continue on.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you squeeze his arm softly so he can feel your sincerity.

When he doesn’t say anything, you release his appendage with an uncertain grin and pull open the door, the cold cinema air greeting you.

Eddie watches your retreating frame for a moment, a little taken aback, before following you to the concession stand.

The two of you fall into an easy silence as you work. 

You wipe the counters and finish cleaning the popcorn machine, carefully following Eddie’s instructions while he sets up the rope dividers in between each register, making sure things are organized just as Mark liked before the doors opened.

He looks at you every so often, and you try to hide the way his subtle attention affects you, keeping your head down and focused on counting your till. Having to recount when you catch him looking again.

But finally, you’re ready for the day; doors unlocked, and fresh edible popcorn ready for the masses. A small line of moviegoers already stood in front of the ticket booth.

The two of you rest your backs against the counter, waiting for the first customer to approach, when Eddie leans over to you, warm breath fanning your ear.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he said your name. Acknowledged you as something other than Little Lipton.

The first time Eddie saw you as more than just his best friend’s little sister.

—————

Now:

Eddie clamors into his trailer, heavy boots dragging across the worn carpet as he trudges to the kitchen and swings open the fridge, grabbing a six-pack that is nearly gone.

He spreads out on the couch and chugs one can before reaching for another, eyes darting around his home. Uncle Wayne had been gone for nearly a week on another cross-country drop-off, and Eddie usually enjoyed having the place to himself, but now the silence engulfed him.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly as the seconds pass, his thoughts clashing into each other.

—————

Then:

Eddie tries to keep his attention on the TV as you enter the room for the fourth time that afternoon.

Rick shakes his head, taking a quick absent look in your direction.

“Dude, I think my sister might like you,” your brother laughs as you disappear back into your room.

Eddie scoffs at his words, but the thrum of his heart would’ve given him away if Rick could hear it.

“I’d never date your sister,” Eddie nudges his arm against Rick’s, eyes still trained on the video game as he sniped an enemy target, but his mind wanders behind the wood of your door. Wondering what you’re doing and if Rick might actually be right.

“Like I’d let you,” he chuckles, breaking Munson’s train of thought.

Eddie’s brow twists in confusion, and it isn’t lost on Rick. 

He turns to his friend with a flippant roll of his eyes and a gentle nudge against the metalhead’s shoulder. Prepared to emphasize his point.

“Oh, come on. I love you, man, but there’s no way in hell I’d let my sister date a guy like you.”

Eddie chuckles along with Rick to conceal the sting of his friend’s words.

He knows all the things that people don’t like about him. His hair, his tattoos. The bad reputation he’d more than earned, but to hear it from his best friend made it sting more.

He can’t help but wonder if you see him that way, a loser with no future—just the town freak. 

And in that moment, he promises himself that he’ll never put himself out there to know.

—————

Now:

Eddie presses his palm to his eye, a headache building behind his orbital bone. 

Rick’s words reverberate off his skull as he grapples with the feelings he’s long ignored. The feelings that had sprouted and made a home of him since the summer he worked with you.

Eddie can still feel your lips against his, the electricity still humming in his veins, and fuck, he wishes it had lasted a moment longer.

He made a mistake, a huge mistake, and winces every time he thinks about the look on your face when he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

Eddie knows that if it went further, you’d only regret it once the sun rose and you’d sobered up. Once the realization hit that you’d slept with the pariah of Hawkins and he couldn’t live with you seeing him that way, with you regretting him.

Not when he already saw it in so many eyes around town.

He isn’t exactly someone you could take home, someone you could brag about or show off a picture of. He knows that much, has been told that much, and already accepts it as truth.

When girls got with Eddie, they expected fun. They expected drugs and a quick hookup.

Some of them never talked to him again, pretended they didn’t know him when they ran into him in town, and others told him that being with him made them realize they’d hit rock bottom.

God, he couldn’t handle you telling him that he was your rock bottom.

Eddie decides that it’s better to ignore it, to ignore you. Better to pretend it didn’t happen despite the way he feels. To spare himself from the regret he knew you’d eventually feel.

—————

Now:

It’s a rainy day, and fat drops bounce off the windshield as your father drives. Faster than usual. 

In a hurry but you don’t know where to.

The air conditioner is off, creating a layer of condensation on the windows. Making your legs stick to the leather seats of your family’s beat-up station wagon.

You draw butterflies on the glass, a small finger tracing against the cool pane. Grinning wide as your drawings expose the gray sky and the way the dark clouds roll quickly against its expanse.

The low hum of Strawberry Fields Forever plays over the radio, but your parent’s voices are louder.

Angrier.

Your mom sniffles, and you lean up in your seat to see if she’s crying, but the length of her hair conceals her face from view.

“Mama,” you push against her seat with your sneakered foot, but she doesn’t respond.

“Jude, please pull over. I can drive.” Your mom insists, tugging at your father’s arm, but he shoves her off. 

You unbuckle your seat belt and pull at your mom’s shirt, trying to get her attention.

“Mom.”

But your voice is cut off, muffled below the volume of the radio as your dad’s hand reaches for the dial turning it until your ears ring.

You shrink back into your seat, lower lip jutted as you look between the two of them. No longer able to understand what your parents are saying, the scene in front of you a mix of gestures and twisted faces making you more confused.

Your mother pulls on your dad’s arm again, and he shoves her off, turning his head to look at her. Mouth wide as he speaks, but you still can’t understand what he’s saying.

Everything else becomes a blur of lights and pain—endless pain shooting from your leg and throughout your body.

Your cries wrack your body but are silent to your own ears. The scene around you a mix of broken glass and lifeless eyes.

Then darkness.

-

You wake up in a cold sweat, wild gaze darting around the room as sit up in bed. The fabric of your tank top clings to your sweat-slicked skin uncomfortably, and your head pounds behind your eyes. A rhythm that matches the way your heart is beating against your ribcage. 

Bile rises in your throat, the nausea that always accompanies the nightmare.

The sting of your leg a reminder of the accident, of the pain from that day.

You press a palm into the skin of your thigh, massaging the muscle marred by a thick scar that’s a shade lighter than the rest of your flesh. It aches like it just happened, like you are ten years old and trapped in that car again. 

You groan uncomfortably and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to the present. Trying to ground yourself with the distant sound of the coffee maker and the smell of burnt toast. The soft song of the birds outside of your window.

Slowly you become grounded, heart settling into a steady rhythm, and open your eyes.

Sunlight streams through your sheer curtains in brilliant rays, yellow hues creating a soft glow along your pale blue walls and highlighting the dust that dances through the air.

You throw your head back against the pillow, not ready to face the day. 

Images of the night before flooding your vision.

Simon and Rachel, her mouth pressed to his. The way she smiled up at him, held his hand.

The scene too familiar for a random drunken hook-up.

You press your palms into your eyes, rubbing until you see swirls. Until you are reminded of Eddie’s stunned face when you sat in his lap, hands pressed to his chest. The way he bucked into you.

The way he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

“Fucking idiot,” you groan with embarrassment and pull your pillow over your face, letting out a muffled scream.

You stay concealed under the pillow, contemplating jumping into the lake and disappearing altogether. Definitely not ready to face Simon and Rachel. Or Eddie.

You flail your body around as another wave of embarrassment rolls through you, causing your pillow to fall from your face.

The incessant buzz of your phone catches your attention, and you glance over at its illuminated face. The screen full of notifications that you can see without grabbing it.

Hesitantly you reach for it, eyes pouring over all the texts.

11:55PM

Simon: Guess you decided not to come tonight?

12:00AM

Simon: helloooo?

12:23AM

Simon: so you’re just going to ignore me now cos I asked you to go out?

Simon: not like we can’t do date night another time, wanted to go have some fun for once

1:03AM

Simon: so you did show up

Simon: you left with MUNSON?

2:30AM

Simon: you’re really just going to ignore me?

2:33AM

Rachel: (Y/N)?

Rachel: Simon is really worried about you

7:49AM

Simon: We need to talk

8:36AM

Rachel: Text me when you’re awake

You swallow the emotion that arose and wonder if their guilt had kept them awake, if it had eaten at them or settled into their chest. Felt whenever they breathed.

Were they even capable of that?

Slowly you push the sheets off the bed and force your legs over the edge one by one until your feet are planted firmly in the plush carpet, your back still pressed against the mattress. Phone forgotten, lost somewhere in your purple comforter.

You will yourself off the mattress and clamor out your bedroom door. Mind focused on getting a glass of water to cure your dry mouth.

The throb of your head returns as the smell of burnt toast grows stronger, and fuck, why did you drink so much last night?

You can only assume the assault on your nose is your brother’s fault.

“Is it really that hard to cook toast, Rick?” You complain loudly as you stumble into the kitchen and throw open a cabinet door, reaching for a glass on the top shelf.

You turn towards the sink, blissfully unaware that there is a set of eyes on you. Watching as you whistle and fill your glass to the brim. Foot tapping to a song that only you can hear.

Eddie watches you, a little petrified like a deer caught in the headlights.

He knew he’d see you, it was your house after all, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d see.

His eyes trace over your legs, stalling on the swell of your ass. He watches as you lean over the counter to get a better view of the lake from the window just above your sink. The angle exposing a glimpse of your butt cheeks.

It’s like you know what you’re doing, know that he’s watching and driving him just a little bit insane.

He swallows harshly, refocusing his attention back on his breakfast. Doing his best to ignore you like he’d planned.

“If it isn’t little miss sunshine,” your brother greets, his words dripping with their usual sarcasm.

You turn around to mock him but stopped in your tracks, eyes practically bulging from your skull when you notice Eddie, and you grip your cup harder.

Had he been sitting there the whole time?

He quietly nibbles on a piece of bacon. Avoiding your eye contact entirely.

The embarrassment you felt before flares awake, and god, you want to crawl into a hole and disappear entirely.

Blinking rapidly, you shift your gaze back to Rick.

He sits at the table, grabbing a plate and shoveling food onto its surface. Eggs, bacon, and the incredibly burnt toast.

“Have work today?”

“Like I do every Saturday,” you shrug, tone bored and doing your best not to glance at the metalhead out of the corner of your eye.

You sip your water, focusing on how its cool temperature slides across your tongue—trying to focus on anything else.

“I’m not going to be able to take you to work. Mrs. Wheeler needs me to take a look at her car and then I’m picking up some extra hours at the shop.”

You had yet to overcome your fear of driving, already having a hard time just being a passenger. 

“Can’t mom take me?” you question, but Rick’s head is already shaking as you get the words out.

“The transmission is acting up in her car. Need to look at it,” he states around a mouth full of food.

“Then how is she getting to work?” You set your cup onto the counter sharper than you intended and fold your arms over your chest.

“She’s not, has one of her headaches again,” he gestures to his head and shovels more food into his mouth.

“That’s why I need the overtime and for you to go to work, we need the cash. Next deal isn’t coming in before the light bill is due.”

Your shoulders sag—the constant stress of bills weighing heavy on you.

“I can just walk or get an uber,” you suggest with a tight smile, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon. 

The walk isn’t that long.

“Your uber is already here,” he points his head towards Eddie, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at his suggestion.

Not happening.

“I can just walk,” you reaffirm quickly, causing Eddie’s eyebrow to quirk.

“Why are you acting like such a brat?” 

You roll your eyes.

“I’m not, just don’t want to make Eddie go out of his way for me.” You unfold your arms and gestured absently towards him.

It was mostly true anyway, you didn’t like the idea of returning to the scene of the crime or spending the twenty minutes it would take for him to drive you to work in awkward silence.

“He’s not, stop being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” you scoff, voice rising slightly and definitely being weird.

“Besides, I can just ask Simon to give me a ride,” you shrug nonchalantly, taking another bite of bacon. 

Rick doesn’t need to know that you aren’t talking to Simon and definitely wouldn’t be getting a ride from him.

Eddie’s elbow settles against the wooden dining table as he watches you and the way you so easily lie to your brother.

“Jesus, fine, whatever.” Your brother holds out a hand to get you to shut up and chugs his orange juice. 

You reach for another piece of bacon but this time off his plate. Rick grabs your hand, shaking the piece out of your grasp, and turns to you—his face twists in disgust when he notices what you’re wearing for the first time.

“Go put some clothes on before Eddie gauges his fucking eyes out.” He wipes his mouth and waves a dismissive hand at you, chuckling at his own lame joke before biting into the bacon that you tried to steal.

Eddie chuckles along with your brother, his pale cheeks blossoming pink. His faux laugh disappears when he notices you sneering in his direction.

“Oh, I’d really hate for him to do that,” your voice drips with sarcasm as you roll your eyes, taking quick steps back down the hall and to your room.

You press your back against the wooden door, a mix of anger and annoyance filling your chest. Overtaking any embarrassment you previously felt.

No, Simon wouldn’t be giving you a ride but neither would Eddie. You’d rather risk showing up a sweaty mess than sit in a car alone with him.

—————

What you didn’t plan on was for it to start raining ten minutes in. 

Large drops had fallen from the sky in quick succession, dark clouds covering the warmth of the sun and creating a chill in the fall air. One of Indiana’s infamous sporadic showers.

The maple leaves are already starting to turn yellow, their brightness a contrast against the gray sky. The air smells of the evergreens, the sharpness of their leaves mixing with the sweetness of the maple trees.

Your feet trudge through the mud, splashing dirt onto the cuffs of your jeans. The road feels longer in the bad weather.

The white of your assistant manager shirt clings to your skin, revealing the pink of your bra, and you cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to conceal it.

There’s a small part of you that wishes you had just taken the ride from Eddie, but there’s a bigger part, the more prideful one, that is glad you hadn’t.

Not after the way he’d laughed at you, chuckled at the thought of even being attracted to you. When you’d just mauled him the night before and this would be the perfect time for lightning to strike you down.

To end your misery, the embarrassment clinging to you once again like the fabric of your shirt.

In the distance, you can hear a car approaching, and you move further into the dirt to avoid being hit. 

Hoping it isn’t a creep or a new serial killer looking for his next victim.

But it’s worse.

It’s Eddie.

Smiling at you from his rolled-down window, van driving slowly on the road's edge.

“Are you that fucking stubborn?” He questions, although he already knows the answer.

“Go away, Munson.”

You don’t look at him, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Simon a no-show, huh?”

You click your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. Like the words didn’t dig at you.

“Looks like it.”

His shoulders drop as you continue to ignore him, and he decides to appeal to your sensible side instead.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“So?”

And why did he think you could be sensible?

He groans and speeds up a little, parking the car just before you to block your path. You stop in your tracks, listening as he climbs out of the driver’s seat and rounds the car.

“Are we really going to do this again?,” he questions as he trudges toward you. Boots slamming into the mud. Curls a little wild and starting to cling to his face when he looks at you.

“Do what?” You give him an innocent smile, eyelashes batting dramatically. 

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Just get in the fucking car,” he states through gritted teeth, his annoyance only making your grin widen.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather gauge your eyes out?” Your voice drops low, mocking Rick’s tone. 

You drop your smile, gaze a little cold as it meets his, and push past him to continue your walk to work.

He throws his head back, face to the sky. Of course, you were pissed about that.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He turns to you, watching as you get a little further way from him.

“For driving me home last night and making out with me or for laughing at me this morning?” You turn around and begin to walk backward, arms lifting from your side. 

A little tired, a little defeated, and you stop beside his van waiting for his answer - concealed from the rest of the road.

“Laughing at you,” his voice is earnest, “I didn’t mean it.”

You nod, his words a salve to that wound but still, there was the mortifying way he’d pushed you away from him.

Eddie began to walk towards you, drawing closer. The scent of his cologne invading your senses.

“Sure you aren’t sorry about the making out part?” You question, eyes trained on his amber gaze as he approaches.

He swallows roughly and debates whether he should be honest. 

“I’m,” he pauses and sighs heavily, “I’m not sorry about that.”

You shrug your shoulders in an attempt to appear flippant, to seem as though his reassurance doesn’t affect you the way that it did. Heart hammering wildly, legs a little wobbly because Eddie Munson didn’t regret kissing you.

“Well that’s good, I’m glad neither of us regretted it,” you turn back around, missing the way his gaze lit up at your words. The reassurance that he needed.

“Now you can go on your merry way and pretend that you gave me a ride. I promise I won’t tell my brother that you didn’t.”

His hand is warm against your arm as he spins you around to look at him.

Your shoes slide against the wet earth from the force, and it is for a brief moment that you see him before you crash into the soft mud.

“Fuck-“ your curses are synchronized as you fall and pull him atop you, his weight causing you to groan from the sudden impact.

Eddie’s knee is slotted between your legs as he lifts his weight onto his forearms, brown gaze boring into your eyes. An apology on his lips when you begin to laugh. Giggles filling the air around you.

You looked at the evidence of your fall, your white shirt now painted brown. Ruined, and marred from the mud. Your hair is a mess of dirt that clings to your face.

Eddie is nearly devoid of any filth. The only evidence he’d fallen is the mud that soaks through the pants of his jeans. 

And it’s a little bit annoying how he isn’t as muddy as you.

Slowly you reach your finger up and slide it across his pale skin with a wide mischievous smile. Chuckling at the way his eyebrows marry at your actions, the way his jaw juts to this side and he shakes his head.

“You brat,” he lifts a hand and attempts to copy your actions as you try to wiggle away. His free hand stills you, holding you by the waist, as he drags the other across your cheek.

His playful smile mirrors yours.

“You jerk, I have to get to work!” But your tone doesn’t match the light in your eyes.

“I don’t think Huntzberger wants you hovering over the popcorn, let alone walking into the building, like this.”

His eyes roam your body, noticing the way your nipples are pebbled against the pink lace of your bra, easy to see through the sheer fabric of your shirt. The way your jeans hug the flare of your hips as you squirm beneath him.

Your breath hitches as you watch the way his gaze dances over your frame, chest rising and falling at a quick pace that isn’t lost on Eddie.

“How much time do you have before work?” His voice is a little gruff, affected, and it takes a moment for you to form a coherent thought.

You blink rapidly, hands resting on his chest absently, and clear your throat.

He lifts off of you and reaches a hand to help you up, but you pull him down into the mud beside you.

“You little shit!” Eddie looks at himself, the mud that clings to his jacket and jeans.

“Oops,” you shrug and lean out of his way as he throws mud at you.

“I have like two hours,” you laugh, looking at him completely amused.

“How long did you think it was going to take you to walk?” He lays there defeated, chuckle matching yours.

“I don’t know, it was just in case-“

“In case what? You had to fight a pack of wood rats to get through?”

“Shut up,” you shove his face from yours, mud caking his cheek.

Eddie gasps at the same time you do, realization dawning as he tackles you back into the mud.

It was like the whole world fell around you, ceasing to exist except for you and Eddie. His muddied face hovering above yours, long fingers digging into your sides as you try to wiggle away from him.

Your giggles fill the air, and you push at his chest.

“Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears spring in your eyes as you push against his chest once more, dirt seeping further into your clothes as you lay there at his mercy.

“Say please,” he insists, and you shake your head, hands gripping his shirt.

For a moment, he stops, fingers stilling at your sides and he smiles at you mischievously. Face moving half an inch closer, and your smile falters briefly, gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. Their deep brown staring back at you, a light in them you hadn’t seen.

“You don’t regret it?” He questions, needing to hear it again. His breath fanning against your face.

You shake your head, already knowing the “it” that he thought you regretted. 

Eddie leans closer, his lips a whisper above your own. Shaky breaths mixing with yours.

Your heart skips as you anticipate the first touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie pulls away, slowly. Hesitantly.

“Think we should get you back home,” he looks down at your dirtied clothes and chuckles, face hovering above yours. You try to hide your disappointment as you nod in agreement.

He pushes himself off of you wiping his hands along his jeans before stretching out his hand to help you up.

Your palm slides against his, caked dirt pressing against his warm hand, and he pulls you against him. Sliding his hands down until they settle on your waist.

His nose traces yours as his fingers dig into your hips, and he swallows hard.

The composure he’d always managed to maintain quickly slipping away.

You tilt your face and run a hand against his jaw, cupping his chin. Thumb lazing against his stubbled flesh drawing circles in his skin.

“Fuck it,” Eddie breathes, and his lips push against yours.

The press of them makes you gasp, they’re just as soft as you remembered but more fervent than before.

His tongue presses at the seam of your lips, swiping against yours when you open for him.

He tastes sweet like spearmint, and you hum.

Exhilaration thrums through you, and you pull him closer, arms wrapping around his neck.

Chest to chest.

Hearts synchronized, each beating at a rapid pace, and you want the moment to stretch on.

For the kiss to never end.

Thunder cracks in the air and the two of you pull apart, looking up at the darkened sky just as the rain begins to fall again.

Eddie looks back at you, his dimpled grin wide as the first drop hits his cheek, and you yelp as another drop cascades down your face.

He presses a quick kiss to your lips, enjoying your surprised gasp. The way you instantly melt into his touch.

“Will you please get in the fucking car now?” 

You nod rapidly, your hand slipping into Eddie’s warm palm. Allowing him to pull you towards his van and into the passenger seat.

-

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[boozeforbrains]

You say you’re sober, but a lot of your posts are about disregarding limits or POS friends who enable drinking or talking sober people into drinking. Is it a fantasy of yours for your sobriety to be broken? Or do you see yourself as the enabler pushing the sober person in these kinds of scenarios?

Warning very serious and not so serious approach to this topic

Hmm yeah difficult psychosexual situation for me.

I do fantasize about being like bullied or forced into having my sobriety broken and it turns me on like very few other things, i always had the fantasy of forced intoxication/accidental intoxication/pushed/tricked/etc, ranging from being subtly manipulated to being literally tied up/kidnapped/whatever and for all intents and purposes forced, mentally and physically.

It became sort of more specific after i decided to be sober. I think if i genuinely had this happen to me, specifically if the other person got off on it as well and was very focused on getting me drunk id probably get off on it forever, literally a wet dream come true.

Sometimes i wonder if its a way out of being responsible for my own sobriety, or for drinking „just one more time“ im thinking its probably many things including this but also a life long fantasy.

Im always torn on the „do it or dont“ i genuinely do not believe there is truly a way to decide between right and wrong here. Only the time i have on this earth and what i decide to do with it. And again, ive had this fantasy since before puberty, at this point i wonder if its more of a need than a wish.

On the other hand i am an extremely responsible and health conscious person, i have a very full schedule, not a lot of time off and high expectations for myself in regards to my physical, (inter)personal, academic and work performance, all of which are pretty big contraindications to indulging myself as much as id like. (And presumably also the reason i tend to drink so heavily cause i cant get my brain to stop pushing myself to doing better and better and more and more)

Im also not a casual drinker at all. I dont drink often, i dont drink just one glass and i dont enjoy the taste of alcohol tbh, i never was a one beer/glass of wine to unwind type guy. I usually go for pretty long periods of time not even caring about alcohol at all and then drink very hard for a shorter period of time (it has to be worth it style) which is also why it took me a while to realize that my behaviour is not healthy regardlng alcohol tho again, Alcohol is just not healthy, no not even one glass, this has been proven by multiple studies at this point. its a neurotoxin that very much kills and cripples people, if were looking at it from a very sober (haha) perspective. (And since i work in healthcare i have seen the very real consequences of consistent, heavy alcohol abuse)

I dont know that i would feel comfortable pushing someone else into breaking sobriety, it would be a very individual decision for sure, mainly depending on how informed the other person was, how much they were consenting etc. i definitely wouldnt dare do it on a whim for purely my own pleasure, tho i could see myself indulging someone who was giving me a clear „go“ and enjoying it.

Even working the bar ive felt uncomfortable serving someone who after a couple drinks let drop to someone they were chatting with that theyd been sober for the last seven months. It made me sad because i know how much genuinely hard work it is.

On the other hand awooga drunk hot and sexy. That part is very implemented in my brain as well.

Not sure if this is the answer you were looking for, its definitely a complex topic for me, i hope i could sort of explain my feelings and thoughts on it to your statisfaction.

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: Heyyy :) this is my first time writing anything so I hope it's not too bad. english is not my first language so please tell me if there are any mistakes. i just saw an edit and this kind of popped into my head. there´s no physical description of the reader, no y/n. the ter trashy pop is used, but in a good way, i love trashy pop

this is not the whole thing, just a little taste to take the edge off of uploading the whole fic. hope you like it <3

pd: i bet you can tell i´ve never smoked lol

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 1994

You heard her before you saw her, your head buried in paperwork, 

¨No one told me in college that nurses had to do this much paperwork¨ Hazel laughed. 

She was new in Charming, looking for a quieter life than the one she had in San Francisco. You had almost laughed at the irony when she first told you, the Sons present in your mind. One Son specifically. How you managed to avoid him considering the amount of hospital visits they made was almost a miracle. 

You had to change your mechanic, that's true, a minor inconvenience. 

Hazel knew about the guy you had just broken up with when she started working with you, but you had, of course, not told her he was none other than the VP of the motorcycle club. There were parts of that story that raised difficult questions. So the official version was that you had a relationship and that it ended because he was kind of a mama's boy, which was not a lie. The truth? Gemma didn't like you and she did everything she could to get rid of you. She succeeded of course.

As you looked up from the files, your greeting was her mischievous smile. ¨Oh no, what is it?¨. 

Hazel leaned in on the table, looking over her shoulder ¨Sooo, you wanted to go dancing on Halloween, but all the good parties are sold out right?¨

You hummed as you got closer to her, ¨Sure, been sold out weeks¨

¨What if I told you I got us invited to a private party?¨ She looked so proud of herself, smiling like she just won the lottery. 

The head nurse approached you, shaking her head but not mad, ¨Last time I checked your, job description said nothing about gossiping, ladies¨

With that, Hazel got back to her rounds, and you got back to your paperwork; the party still on the back of your mind. 

When it was finally time to clock out, Hazel and you decided you´d get ready at her place that Friday before going to the party; and you got in your car and drove to a costume shop. You'd thought of just buying fake blood and splashing it on some scrubs you didn't use anymore, but as you entered a beautiful mannequin dressed as a vampire gave you another idea. You had a dress that you hadn't had a chance to wear yet, well, this was it. 

The cashier joked as you paid for a gothic looking choker and fake fangs ¨Last minute buy huh?¨; you nodded, laughing along with her.

On Friday morning, you packed a bag with the outfit and makeup you would need to get ready and left for the hospital. The hours seemed to tick by specially slow: making your rounds, filling up paperwork, changing dressings, administering medication, over and over.  During lunchtime one of your friends wanted to know which party you were going to, and that's when you realized you didn't know. 

¨I´ve been so excited with the idea of going I did not even wonder…and Hazel´s been so busy, we have barely talked¨ 

At last you got to Hazel's place, opened up a couple of beers and started getting ready, trashy pop blasting from the radio. While the glue in the fake fangs dried off, a question escaped your lips ¨So, what's the story with this party?¨. 

The image of your fingers stuck in your mouth, holding the fangs in place was guilty for a fit of laughter being all you got for an answer. Hazel´s cackles were very contagious, even more so after a couple of beers. 

She sat down to do her makeup, ready to answer your question ¨My car broke down right? Anette from the pediatric wing said she knew the best mechanics in town¨ Your face went white at that, fearing the worst ¨so I went there, and the hottest guy comes up to me and starts asking about the car¨ she turned to face you ¨when I say hot I don't think you understand, I mean very hot¨ a sick feeling to your stomach made you think that was probably Jax, charming a beautiful girl into a party, and then his bed, Hazel was too deep in the story to notice your change in demeanor ¨he was funny as hell and he had these tats in his head, you should have seen him¨. 

You finally felt like you could breathe a little better, so you interrupted ¨So you got us invited to SAMCRO´s party?¨ That was when Hazel noticed you were sitting on her bed, your face serious, and she assumed she knew why ¨Listen honey, I know they're supposed to be dangerous or whatever, but it's just a party, nothing bad will happen¨. 

As she sat down next to you, you grabbed her hand ¨Remember my ex?¨ she blinked at that, not the answer she was expecting ¨Yeah, the one you never talk about¨. You breathed in deeply  ¨I never talk about him because he's the VP of the Sons, and there are many things I can't tell you¨. 

A heavy silence fell between you two, and you could see disappointment in her eyes. 

You knew you shouldn't, you had been avoiding him for a reason, but you couldn't help yourself, Hazel had been looking forward to the party, and so had you, if you were being honest. 

You got up and grabbed the dark red lipstick ¨So, now that we both have all the information, let's finish here¨, before Hazel even finished opening her mouth you continued ¨We're already half dressed, Juice will be waiting for you. I have to see Jax again eventually, I can't avoid him forever¨. 

With that, you sat down and finished doing your makeup ¨Come on Hazel, we don't have the whole night¨. She gave you a grateful smile.

A little after, you admired the both of you in the mirror: Hazel had a beautiful purple witch costume, and you were wearing a garnet minidress, fishnets, black platform heels and the choker and fangs. ¨We look hot, he's gonna die when he sees you¨ Hazel kissed your cheek lovingly, and with that you left.

Memories flooded your brain as Hazel parked in front of the clubhouse and were quickly interrupted by her voice ¨I really am sorry-¨, a reassuring smile and a wink shut her up, then you got out of the car. 

A dull throb came from the closed door, the beat of the music. It got louder as some girls you didn't know opened the door and got out, laughing and clearly drunk. 

¨Looks like a fun party Hazel, let's go get your guy¨, with that you started walking, putting as much fake confidence as you could into every step. What you were not expecting was her disappearing as soon as the door closed behind you.

By yourself, as you had so many nights before, you approached the bar, spotting Chibs. He smiled at you as a wave of recognition flashed in his face 

¨Look what the cat dragged in¨, leaning on the countertop. Chibs eyed you up and down and you twirled, chuckling ¨What can I get ya? It's on the house¨.

Jax´s breath caught in his throat as he saw you walking into the party, what the hell were you doing there. He couldn't believe how good you looked, the dress clinging to your body in all the right places, the fishnets, the dark makeup...

It might be the sexier you had ever looked. He had to play it cool so he leaned against the wall, beer in hand, yet his eyes followed your every movement. 

You were talking to Chibs, laughing and joking, and he felt a pang in his chest. That should be him.

Now that your vodka tonic was half empty, being in the clubhouse was way less stressful, still you had to make an effort not to look at him. You could feel his gaze on you, but you had not dared do the same. A blonde head of head on the periphery was more than enough. 

So you leaned in the bar next to Chibs. ¨Can you believe my friend ditched me the second she stepped in here?¨, a light chuckle escaping your lips at the absurdity of it. 

He laughed with you, looking around ¨Can´t blame her, not with hot bikers everywhere¨. 

¨Oh my god i cant believe youre on her side¨, you jokingly hit his arm. 

Chibs kept on joking about how hot the Sons were while you both looked around the room, your eyes suddenly falling on Jax.

 He looked fucking great . 

You had to make a bit of an effort to look away, taking a sip of your drink. This did not go unnoticed to Chibs, who smirked, knowing his brother too well. 

Jax had been peeking at you too, even if he pretended to focus on the conversation he was having. 

You noticed Chibs leaning closer, his voice dropping ¨You know he hasn't stopped looking at you since you walked in, don't ya?¨. 

You bit the inside of your cheek ¨Didn't even notice¨.

¨So you didn't notice him almost spilling his beer when he first saw you?¨ He chuckled ¨Or the way he keeps stealing glances every time he thinks no one's gonna notice?¨.

You could tell Chibs was enjoying your effect on Jax a little more than a brother should, but you were more worried about the way his presence was affecting you. 

¨I haven't got a clue what you´re talking about¨, you just hoped your innocent facade was good enough.

Chibs shook his head, so it wasn't. ¨You´re a terrible liar, but I´ll play along. Keep acting like he's not here and let's see how long he can keep his cool¨. A wink punctuated the ending of his challenge. 

Not loving the route the conversation was heading in, you finished your drink with one BIG gulp and left. 

¨Thanks for the drink, it was great¨. Before you could quite leave he chuckled, amused by your stubbornness.

¨Uh huh, whatever. Don't pretend to be surprised when he starts pestering you, you know he will. That boy can't resist a challenge¨

That did strike a nerve, and your mouth was working before you could register what you were saying, ¨I´m not a challenge, I´m his ex¨ 

Chibs chuckled and leaned in closer ¨You ignoring him is a challenge, being his ex only adds to it¨ He took a swing of his beer before continuing, ¨Trust me, you're getting under his skin more than you realize¨

For whatever reason, that angered you. You were not a challenge, and ignoring him was the sane choice. The alcohol in your system just fueled that anger, so still in hushed voices you retorted, ¨Am I getting under his skin? Or is he just horny and knows I´m a good fuck?¨

He just laughed, this was the you he remembered, running your mouth in a tiny dress, having a good time but not letting anyone put you down. Well, not anyone, the fight against Gemma was the one he'd seen you lose.

¨Oh believe me it's both, he sees you and all he can think about is getting you into bed. But there's more to it, ain't there?¨ This time when he smirked he was looking at Jax, who was talking to Tig, his eyes trained on you. 

You started walking to the dancefloor, and you offered a shrug as an answer to his question. The words that followed, not even you believed, ¨I don´t know, and I don´t care¨

Chibs watched you leave, talking to himself, ¨Yeah, you keep telling yourself that¨. He then looked at Jax, who was following your every movement from his spot leaning on the wall. Chibs just shook his head and went over, ready to stir the pot.

[jitterbugjive]

Want a super unique commission with a fun flavor experience to have forever? I'm extremely passionate about tea, and have been testing custom blends on Adagio Teas for years. Having just recently released a set of My Magic Grandpa inspired blends with more to come, I figured people might be interested in having custom loose leaf blends made for their characters, preferences, or topic of choice.

Please note, you are buying a custom recipe from me. You will have to make an account on Adagio to create the blend for yourself to order as a $6 sample or more if you like. The $6 samples come in customizable collectable tins, and you must make a label for them to order the tea. I can offer to make a label as well, just note they are small and need to be JPG so they won't cost much. These tins are great for storing other small things whenever you're done with your tea. Tin Label art will be given priority.

PRICING:

Blend: $5 - Will be customized until customer satisfaction no extra charge (Max of 6 adjustments before extra fee of $1 per change)

Tin Label: $3-$25 (Added to Blend cost)

Just text and basic colors: $3

Text+Graphic of Tea Ingredients: $5

Character Head+Text: $10

Char Head+Text+Ingredients: $15

Char Torso+Text: $20

Char Torso+Text+Ingredients: $25

Taste Test: $9 - If you want me to do a taste test of your blend you would need to pay for the sample and shipping for me to order.

With a taste test I will give tips on the best additives to bring out specific flavors, and I can make any adjustments that might need to be made to the tea. I can do up to 3 taste tests, but each one would need to be paid for. It might be better for you to get a sample of the blend for yourself and ask for suggestions for adjustments if it's not to your liking. I will not charge extra to make adjustments after you taste test your tea unless you've already maxed out on 6 adjustments.

Research Fee: Starts at $5 - If you want me to more thoroughly acquaint myself with the theme you chose for your tea, such as reading a good chunk of a comic or story in order to better understand what you want, there would have to be an extra fee depending on how much research is needed.

Commission Form:

Flavor Preferences: (Type of tea, fruits, herbs, floral, spices, etc)

Flavors to Avoid: (Things you would not want in your tea)

Caffeine Level: (None/Low/Medium/High)

Inspiration: (Choose a theme, your flavor preferences, or a character to base the tea on. Please describe these as best as you can, things like character personalities and references help)

Tin Label?: (Yes/No, if Yes, give instructions and references if needed)

Send an email to jitterbugcommissions@gmail.com to order a blend recipe!

[verytrustworthytrapdoor]

that durge in all of us

my brain went to "he got that dog in him" but durge idk man just go with it

[bigfatbreak]

Hello I love your art!!! I was reading through your changeling au and Felix mentions that fae are creatures of mirth. They literally need attention to survive. But what kind of attention? I guess I'm wondering because Adrien has been in the public eye for a while now, but has been personally neglected for even longer. What does that mean for him? Is he starving? Is he in danger of dying? Does he even know it? (I assume not given he doesn't even know he's Fae).

If he is starving / in danger of starving who is the first to realize this?

it depends on the mirth, on the attention, on what it is they seek. Without making things too complicated - I don't like to define everything into neat little boxes after all, there's fun in nuance - Felix is just explaining from his experience, the Fae he was with tended to be "entertained" by certain aspects of their playing, which was the mirth that kept them relevant. Relevancy more than anything is really what keeps their wheels greased.

In Adrien's case though, the reason he's cloying for so many names and to have so many thralls and attendants is because he SHOULD be a more social creature and has been kept woefully alone. He is kinda starving in the way a fae starves - he's relevant, but only in an image his father constructs OF him, which means it isn't REALLY him - and he has no one to play with. No friends, no lovers, and no rivals, makes a very sad fae

[stbot]

Lydia + Walk Walk Fashion Baby (featuring an increasingly unhinged number of pins)

[tealfruit]

anytime I try to listen to rap/hip-hop that matches my tastes, Spotify serves me up white people so I'm trying to go out of my way to find black artists I enjoy (cuz tbh I'm not big into the genre as a whole, a lot of it isn't to my taste, but ik there's some stuff out there I DO rly like and I KNOW it ain't all by white people) and like. my algorithm is so skewed that Spotify is unironically trying to throw Fall Out Boy into the queue between Lil Nas X and Kendrick Lamar

[articskele]

Some screenshots of truffula fruits because I just think they're neat

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have a big google doc thing where I keep track of media and stuff (putting everything in loosely ranked categories), which is mostly just for my own reference so I know what tv shows I've already seen before, etc. and I never really look back through it, typically just a quick "okay, watched two movie in the past 8 months, need to quickly slap them somewhere in the lists. okay. done. save document. exit". But today I was actually reading through some of the old notes and there are like... MULTIPLE places where my comment is basically "It would have been good if it were about elves" or "I wish there was a fantasy show made in this same style" or "It's well made, but I just keep thinking about how I would like it more if everyone was an elf or was in old 1700s costumes" or etc like...... lol.... Most biased media ranking system on earth blatantly made by someone with an extremely hyperspecific range of narrow interests. It'd be like if a food reviewer only had 5 foods they actually liked, so they'd just go to a pizza place and be like "eh, the pizza was okay, but I just think it would be better if it was cereal instead. :/ ...2 out of 10"

[pastelaspirations]

hello! first i just wanna say ur stories r really neat n have have inspired me a lot! soo I remember when reading perseverance u mentioned a couple of times in the notes bout some of the songs u listened to while writing the chapters so would it be alr if u dropped all the songs u think goes w the story? (u don have to ofc I jus think it's interesting how u might perceive them as songs) much love to u n ur creative mind 💞

Awwww, thank you!! <3 <3 I'm glad I could inspire you! That's what I want to do with my stories! :D

Okay, so. U m. This is uh. A very interesting question. First off, I am. Very surprised people actually pay attention to those, I didn't know if people did or not- XD

Second. Um. Are you s u r e you want me to drop all the songs that I think goes with the story-

There might... be way more than you think.

And that's not including the 3 unlisted ones that I can't remember what they were/don't have the heart to remove from the list. Also, it's a playlist that... includes any song that inspired me ever. For any fic that I made. Not just Perseverance.

I don't think you actually want me to drop all of these on you, man-

[dudeslut]

Writing any long nsfw scenario always makes me more and more horny as I go along until I have to stop because I realize I've devolved into writing a wall of text that's just dialogue from the dom of things I wish were being said to me right then.

[mokeonn]

if you dont mind sharing, what are some of your favorite ska songs/bands?

I will admit I am not a huge band person I tend to be more of a "pick whatever random songs sound good" person, so I can't recommend any good bands. I also listen to Ska Punk, which is a subgenre of Ska... and Punk. So I am not a good authority on Ska songs to listen to I am just someone who is banned from being passed the aux cord...

But some of my favorite songs include:

No Children - Ska (cover)

Quinto Patio Ska

Everything Went Numb

S F D D

And songs by Reel Big Fish tbh. I know I just said I don't listen to specific bands but Reel Big Fish has some pretty good songs like...

Sell Out

And their Take on Me cover

Here's my disclaimer, though: I am not into music subcultures I just listen to whatever sounds good (and jazzy punk with horns sounds good), so I could be giving absolutely awful music recommendations that anyone who is especially into Ska (and more specifically Ska Punk) might find egregious. I personally just grab whatever song sounds good and add them to my forever long playlist.

Also the Jabberjaw (Running Underwater) song from Pain used for the Cartoon Network Boomerang Groovies is probably the reason I enjoy Ska punk so much, and it has been in my playlist for years now:

If nothing else in this list interests you, I require everyone by law to listen to Jabberjaw Running Under Water by pain and watch the Cartoon Network Boomerang Groovie video of it. I used to watch Boomerang a million times, and this was probably the only Groovie I really enjoyed watching and didn't go to the bathroom during.

[recapitulation]

made a playlist of my fav recordings of every mahler symphony if anyone is interested (doesn't include erde bc I'm not familiar enough w it to have a fav recording)

[the-lark-ascending69]

Lumity is very cute but it seems like the kind of ship that would have a fandom so toxic it'd make you dislike the ship in time and I think that's sad.

[b4kuch1n]

gonna start subjecting u lot to my rambling abt classic viet authors