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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

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it's nice to have a friend

pairing: stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. tinge of angst. longing. mutual pining. no smut but all my works are considered 18+ only regardless.

words: 1.7k

notes: loosely based off this prompt: platonic forehead kisses starting to give u the feels. LIKE ITS SOMETHING MAGICAL. i'm currently pmsing and work killed me so i was only able to get to this drabble done today. hoping to do the bucky request tomorrow! <3 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. comments and feedback are always welcome and so appreciated!

“I’m fine, Steve,” you laugh as you try to swat his hand away.

You still as he catches it in his instead, pulling it down and holding it as he runs his thumb over your hand. You watch him as he keeps his gaze down, tracking his own movements and appearing deep in thought.

It’s soft and silent in the dim light of the kitchen, a little past midnight, seemingly only you and him awake at this hour.

You’d gotten back from your mission just a few hours ago and Steve had been your shadow from the tarmac up until you were cleared by Dr. Cho and could head to living quarters.

You had a small gash on your forehead and some bruised knuckles but really you felt fine. Kate and Peter weren’t as unscathed as you and Clint but all in all, the mission was a success. And truly, there was nothing for anyone, especially not Steve, to be worried about.

You and Steve were close, close enough that you considered him to be one of your best friends here at the tower, but despite that, you still had no idea why he was so concerned about you tonight.

He’d been worrying over you since you’d stepped foot off the jet. Not outright, but you could tell he was following you because he wanted to keep an eye on you. You finally convinced him you were good, or so you’d thought, and had some time to yourself as you showered and got ready for bed. When you came out to grab something to eat before letting sleep finally take you for the night, that was when you’d found him sitting in the kitchen.

Only the dimmer was on as he sat at the counter sketching something in his notebook. He noticed your presence right away and got up from his seat to meet you at the cabinet you were at.

He’d instantly went for the mug he knew you were going to reach for and handed it to you as you watched him, having relaxed with your backside against the counter when he came over.

You’d caught yourself admiring him as he got you your mug but you tried to quickly shut those thoughts down and instead focused on just how lucky you were to call Steve a friend. His concern wasn’t necessary, but it was nice to know he cared.

You took the mug from him and when you set it down on the counter, he once again tried to fuss over the small gash that would likely leave a little physical memory of the mission. Not that you minded all that much.

You tried to brush his hand away but he caught yours and kept hold of it as you let him.

As Steve continued to stroke his thumb over your soft, sensitive skin, you couldn’t help but notice the crease in his brows and the tightness of his jaw as he rubbed gently at the bruises.

You couldn’t imagine this was all because of you, but something was obviously up.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, waiting for him to look at you once more.

His bright blue eyes met yours and the worry you found in them had you sighing.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you gently squeezed his hand. “And don’t say nothing. I think I know you well enough to know that something is, so spill.”

He smiled halfheartedly at you, an almost pained look in his eye before he shook his head.

He lifted your hand to his lips and placed a delicate kiss to your knuckles before he let go. You thought your heart might just stop beating entirely at the action as your breathing stilled unbidden.

You watched him as he took a small step back from you. The look in his eye wasn’t one you could name now but it had your stomach twisting..in a good way.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said as he took you in with his eyes.

Your brows furrowed lightly before you gave a small smile. That was far from the whole answer and you knew it, but you wouldn’t press him on it right now.

“I hadn’t realized how late it was,” he continued when he glanced over at the time on the stove. “I should probably get some sleep. And you should, too,” he said turning his head back to face you and fixing you with a look you could only laugh at.

“Will do, Captain,” you chuckled lightly with a nod. “Soon as I find something to eat.”

“I think Bucky has leftover pizza in the fridge if you want,” he offered.

You scoffed and your eyes narrowed at him, “Do you want me dead?” you asked in faux incredulity, earning a soft laugh in return.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he smirked. “Besides, if he knows it was you, I don’t think he’d mind.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as you pushed off the counter to head to the fridge.

Before you got there, though, you were stopped as Steve’s arms wrapped around you in a hug. You found yourself pressed right against his chest and though it took you a second to register what was happening, you soon returned his embrace and relaxed into him. God, he was so warm. And he smelled so nice. You had to stop yourself from nuzzling into him and making a complete fool of yourself. His hold was so comforting, you quickly found yourself lost in it.

So much so, you almost didn’t register when Steve placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Almost.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact as your arms reactively squeezed him tighter and you pressed yourself closer to him.

It wasn’t the first time he’d given you a forehead kiss but this time felt different. It made you feel different. Like you were in a dream. It was soft and comforting but it also had butterflies coming to life in your stomach and had your body alight in delight.

But it was over before you knew it and Steve pulled away from you with a soft, “Goodnight.”

His touch lingered on your arm though before he dropped his hand completely and smiled at you once more.

“Night,” you whispered back before you watched him go, grabbing his notebook on his way back to his room.

You absentmindedly wrapped your arms around yourself as you were already missing the feeling of his touch.

That was different. That was very different.

The light flicked on behind you and you spun around coming face to face with the only other person you'd really looked forward to seeing upon your return.

His boyish grin only added to the butterflies already causing ruckus in your tummy.

"There you are," he smiled, "I was looking for you."

Not another word was said before you found yourself wrapped up in Bucky's arms.

God, he was so warm. And he smelled so good.

Thankfully he pulled away before you could embarrass yourself by unleashing the purr that threatened to tumble past your lips as his hands rubbed at the knots in your back soothingly.

"You okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone as he studied your face, eyes fixating on the cut blemishing your forehead once he assured himself the rest of you was alright.

"Fine," you smiled.

He nodded, "Good."

You got lost in his gaze as you stared at one another for a long while, just your quiet breaths could be heard in the otherwise silence of the kitchen.

You didn't even realize you were holding his hands until he squeezed yours ever so slightly.

"'M glad you're back," he simpered.

"Me too," you returned.

"You hungry?" he asked. "I have some pizza in the fridge if you want," he offered.

You almost laughed remembering Steve's words earlier. "That sounds really good, actually," you nodded, smiling, "thanks."

You watched as Bucky got out the cold pizza and warmed it up for you as you admired his form. When you caught yourself, you wondered how he hadn't felt your gaze heavy on his back. You were mesmerized by his muscles as they flexed with his movements.

God, you fretted to yourself.

You didn't know what to do.. You didn't know how much longer you could keep telling yourself these feelings you were feeling for Steve and Bucky were nothing.. how much longer you could deny that with each day that passed you found yourself falling harder and harder for the two supersoldiers.

Little did you know, they were both already head over heels for you.

They promised each other they'd wait as long as they had to until you brought it up yourself, they didn't want you to feel any pressure whatsoever, even if that meant you never brought it up. They'd keep their distance, not crossing the line of friendship until they were sure you wanted to. But nights like this, when you've been gone for as long as you had been, or worse when you'd come back hurt, no matter how trivial the injury was, they couldn't stay only arm's length.

To avoid overcrowding you upon your return, they'd agreed to come to you one on one. Had Bucky seen the glint of disappointment in your eyes when Steve told you he was preoccupied upon your return, he would've been a total loss. Would've come right up to you and sworn to make his absence up to you, whatever it'd take.

Hell, they'd both been waiting impatiently all day to see you and Bucky only begrudgingly sat out from greeting you on the tarmac because Steve won the coin toss.

As he plated your pizza, the pizza he had secretly saved for you, he smiled to himself as he felt your eyes glued to him.

He liked the feeling.

Steve wasn't so sure you'd ever see them as anything more than friends to you, but Bucky thought otherwise. He knew otherwise. He felt it in your gaze, in your playful hits and nudges when you’d joke together, in the warmth of your hugs... He knew it was gonna happen. And each day that passed, he only grew more sure.

He couldn't wait until the day you were all on the same page, all your cards on the table, finally the three of you together. No more coin tosses, no more taking turns checking on you after missions, no more three second hugs (though he never really stuck to that rule all too much), no more lingering forehead kisses that he desperately wished would turn into more...

He couldn't wait. But he would. For you, they'd wait forever.

#stucky x curvy!reader #stucky x reader #stucky x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x curvy!reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky drabble #steve rogers drabble #stucky x reader drabble

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the-ace-with-spades · 7 months

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I need a fic where Ghost and Soap are on the run but like, framed and on the run.

They're on an assignment, just the two of them, to co-lead a team for the prevention of assassination for some big-name politician (dunno, I like to think this would happen either in usa or in the uk...) and it's all done and they're about to pack their shit and go back to base when Soap gets an encrypted call from Price to tell him that a video of Ghost killing the same big-name politician is on the telly

It's not Ghost, obviously, but it's someone of Ghost's posture, in Ghost's gear and Ghost's mask.

Also obviously, Soap doesn't believe it.

They get surrounded pretty fast by the local SWAT-like team and Soap makes Ghost use him as a hostage so they can escape with a minimal amount of maiming -- Soap is pretty sure Ghost could escape on his own, but it'd be a bloody mess that would follow him after he was proven to be framed.

Of course, Ghost tries to get Soap to leave once they're out of the danger zone. He does not.

Cue Ghost and Soap on the run while Price, Gaz and Lasewell try to find out who is framing him.

Simon's existence was erased so much that there are no pictures of him anywhere so instead, his APB has a sketch and a description. Problem is, the scars on his face were included, and way too characteristic to miss them (whether it's the glasgow smile or other scars, dunno, but you get my point). At first, it's really hard to move around because scars/mask + Simon being like 6'4 and built like a tank scream 'notice me'. Simon grows out a beard - it's red-ish blond colour so he ends up dying his hair red too. He absolutely doesn't care but Soap mourns because he's barely started being able to see Simon's face and hair and now it's all changed up.

Soap doesn't have an APB at first, but after a couple of days he is named as complicit (because he's seen helping Ghost run) and his photo is out. He has to shave the mohawk because it's too eye-catching (he's fucking bald and he hates it). He has to rein in his accent because he is described as glasgowian scottish. He can't call his maw so he sends her a random postcard he picked up a few towns ago and sends a short and cryptic message, hoping she believes he's not a terrorist.

Soap also finds out Ghost knows way too many shady people and knows way too easily where to look for even more shady people if he needs something the former people don't have. They steal shit out of necessity, often clothes and food, but sometimes they pickpocket cards and wallets. Some days they sleep in the car, some days they stop at questionable motels or hostels, and some days they don't sleep at all. They have burner phones but don't contact Price at all.

There would be a mandatory 'taking care of each others' wounds' scene (no bandages, please, you rarely use bandages in healthcare nowadays) after a dangerous run-in, a mandatory 'pretend to be a couple to lose the trail' and after that, an awkward 'there was only one bed' scene where things happen for the first time and they have a sloppy handjob or two.

They're probably trying to escape the country but can't do it via air because of the APBs and have to make their way to some shady port and even shadier ferry or cargo ship that won't run their fake passports in the system if they pay well enough.

Ghost is surprising Soap once again with an off-shore bank account and a knowledge of whichever country they're in's language. They move somewhere less crowded but not small enough that two Brits would be weird. Some people refer to Ghost as Soap's husband.

Weeks or months go by.

"What if they can't prove I didn't do it?"

"You faked your death once, love, I think you can do it twice."

#ghostsoap #ghoap #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #q

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yyokkki · 1 year

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Asking to Sketch Them

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle Rosehearts

Honestly a bit shocked you’d ask him

But he’s had practice from posing for family portraits, so he isn’t too nervous

Until you say you want the backdrop to be Heartslabyul’s garden

It doesn’t break any rules… but that doesn’t mean someone else won’t break any rules

He doesn’t collar people as often as he used to, but he still makes it a point to lecture rulebreakers on the importance of said rule

So imagine the strain on his face when Ace walks by with a vase full of roses and it’s Wednesday.

In the end Ace sits beside you while Riddle gives a long lecture, keeping the rest of his body perfectly still so it doesn’t interfere with your work

You are sweating in fear. 6/10 a good model but it’s hard to draw when your model is half yelling at the dude sitting right next to you

Trey Clover

Might hesitate to say yes because he’s a busy guy,,

I mean they have tea parties like everyday and he’s always in charge of sweets-

You say he can go about his business and that you’re going to capture him in his natural habitat then he agrees

Raises an eyebrow cuz you make it sound like you’re on national geographic but ok

Anyways you’re drawing him while he’s baking and damnnn those biceps pop when he’s whisking

Secretly, however, he’s been holding back for a while now/

When you’re least expecting it he comes closer to you… and bam whipped cream on the side of your face

Devolves into flour tossing and chaos

6/10 you got whipped cream on your sketchbook and it was half finished but it was a fun memory

Cater Diamond

“OMS YAY of course ;DD”

Internally screaming because his makeup isn’t that good today and why him I mean there are better looking people in nrc and maybe he can get his clone to do it instead-

Overthinker fr

He’s a bit stiff at first, trying to only show his good side and checking his camera constantly to see if his smile looks good

If you’re close and you start talking to him about something he’s passionate about while you’re sketching he’ll loosen up a bit and his pose becomes a lot more natural

Eventually forgets you’re even drawing him and now it’s just him showing his true colours

Takes a pic of your finished sketch along with the both of you and posts it on magicam #muse #artistbestie

8/10 the sketch turned out well and you had a nice chat

Deuce Spade

Has never been asked this question in his life

Boy is so stiff and awkward pls baby

He smiles like Oga from Beelzebub at first

Pls pls pls get this boy to do something else while you’re drawing him to get him to relax

Might be studying across the table from you while having a nice chat

Forgets you’re drawing him eventually pt.2

Tbh moves around a lot especially if a senior enters the room cuz he makes it a point to turn around and greet them while standing up

Is a bit surprised when you say you’re done because shit I forgot and I moved so much im sorry-

Also takes a picture of the sketch

Texts his mom the pic “I made a really good friend who’s great at drawing :D”

Will ask if you can draw a portrait of him and his mom together when you get the chance (will pay for it he just doesn’t know about the concept of commissions TT)

4/10 he’s so precious but not the best model tbh id still ask him again idc

Ace Trappola

Little shit (affectionate)

Not hard to make him agree but boy will he give you shit for it “my face is just that handsome ig” “you want me to get nude?” someone kiss him and make him shut up

At first he’s making a bunch of dumb faces and exaggerated poses and once he determines that you’re sufficiently annoyed he starts actually posing normally

Might get up halfway through and start stretching or laying down cuz he got tired though

Depending on how late he slept the night before and if you’re keeping quiet so he doesn’t get the chance to tease you, he might fall asleep

His sleeping face is cute so it works out for you ehe

When you’re done he acts all non chalant and smug about it but inside he’s sooo happy damn tsundere

Asks if he can draw you next and draws a potato with three dots on it <3

2/10 its only easy when he falls asleep but he’s cute so ill give him 1 extra point

-----

Graphic design is not my passion dear lord i really need to read a guide on how to format tumblr posts TT

Also first time writing omg depending on my mood next part will either be out tomorrow or next month see yall

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #deuce spade #ace trappola #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst heartslabyul #twst headcanons

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ramblingoak · 5 months

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The Quiet Times

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 10 - Quiet Nights

Mist x Aurora

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Mist owns an antique store called The Reliquary and Aurora owns Little Sunshine Tattoos ~

Warnings: none, sfw, 740 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

This was Mist’s favorite time of the day.

It was that lovely quiet moment between dinner and when she usually went to bed. Mornings could be chaotic, especially considering sometimes Aurora was just going to bed when Mist was getting up. She would get so absorbed in designing something for a client or just sketching something on her own that she barely got up to eat let alone remember she needed sleep. Although Mist could be the same sometimes, especially if she got caught up with an interesting book.

Thank Lucifer The Den was nearby.

The little coffee shop was where they had met and Mist smiled to herself thinking about that day. She had been rushing in during her lunch break, needing a serious amount of caffeine to get her through the afternoon. Mary Goore had brought in a box of their grandma’s books to see if Mist wanted any for her antique store. One of the books had immediately caught her eye and the next thing she knew it was 3am and she was supposed to be up in four hours.

So here she was trying to hurry in for something with lots of sugar and caffeine but all her plans went to shit when she had opened the door on Aurora. The ghoulette’s iced coffee ended up all over her and the floor. Mist had been horrified, thinking about the moment even now still made her wince. She had been prepared to get yelled at because who wouldn’t yell in this scenario? But instead all that happened was Aurora had started laughing and honestly, that was all it really took.

Mist had been a goner ever since.

Aurora’s cursing brought her out of her thoughts and she looked over to see her girlfriend crumpling up a design she had been working on since dinner. She was able to catch it when it was chucked to the side, carefully smoothing it out and tucking it into her book to save. Mist did this with any bits of sketches or whatever else Aurora felt wasn’t good enough. She had an entire scrap book full of all the napkin doodles Aurora had given her. Each one was special in its own way, even if the artist didn’t feel the same.

“Please tell me you’re not keeping that.” Mist just smiled primly and looked back down at her book. Aurora groaned and crawled over to rest her hands on Mist’s knees. “You keep the ugliest ones.”

“None of them are ugly, how many times do I need to remind you?” Aurora dropped her head into Mist’s lap instead of answering but Mist caught her pleased little smile. She rescued her book and tea just in time, setting it on the side table before burying her fingers in Aurora’s hair. “They all belong on the fridge.”

Aurora snorted, turning her head to the side so she could peer up at Mist.

“We ran out of room there months ago.”

“Then I’ll buy another fridge. And another, as many as it takes.” She scratched her claws into the ghoulette’s scalp, smiling when Aurora’s chest started rumbling quietly. “So stop talking down about your work.”

“Ugh, fine.” Aurora scooted closer, wrapping her arms around Mist’s legs and settling more comfortably against her. “I’m done drawing for tonight, my head hurts.”

“Do you want some medicine? Let me at least get you some water.”

“No, no, stay here.” Mist stopped trying to get up when the arms around her legs tightened. Aurora was looking at her once more so Mist pulled a hand out of her hair and trailed a finger across the ghoulette’s forehead. As if the light touch alone could take the discomfort away. “Will you read to me?”

“Whatever you want.” She picked up her book again, gently opening it up and finding her place. “Do you want me to start from the beginning?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aurora gave her legs another squeeze but otherwise stayed still. “I just want to hear your voice.”

The quiet of the room settled over them both, only the hum of their furnace kicking on making noise. Mist took a moment to whisper a prayer to the Olde One, ever thankful for Aurora being in her life. For the chance to explore the world with the feisty ghoulette at her side.

And especially for quiet nights like this, where nothing else existed but the two of them.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More fics in the Tales From Lucifer's Hollow masterpost

#mist x aurora #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #mist ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #mushy may 2024 #tales from lucifer's hollow #oakie's writing

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yazthebookish · 1 year

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I just reread the bonus chapter and I'm just, as always, struck by how fucking obvious Gwyn and Azriel's set up is.

✨ He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him. It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running, Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.

I'm telling you those shadows are going to play wingmen for Az.

✨ His shadows peered over his wings at her. The young priestess smiled--and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows.

Does anyone ever really smile at his shadows except for Gwyn 😭

✨ "Happy Solstice," she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing. -- He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?" -- Gwyn's teal eyes flashed with alarm. "No! I mean, I don't mind sharing the ring. I just...I know you like to be alone." Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. "Is that why you came up here?"

Gwyn really indirectly said he was going to be a brooding ass so let's wish him a happy solstice and let him go and he still teased her back instead of taking the opening she gave him. Also, no one pays enough attention to this detail but SHE KNOWS he likes to be alone 👀 girl is paying close attention to him alright 👀

✨ Sort of. "I forgot something," he reminded her. -- "At two in the morning?" Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. "I can't sleep without my favorite dagger."-- "A comfort to every growing child." -- Azriel's lips twitched.

Gwyn has no filters on I love her 😂😂😂 she really indirectly called his lying ass out.

✨ "How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. -- "Fine," he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. "It was nice." Not much better. So he asked, "Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?"

For a 500+ year old immortal Az you should've been better at this game, but I'm proud of you for at least being self-aware and trying to have a normal conversation. 2/5 on the effort but still appreciated.

✨ She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. "Do you sing?” -- He blinked. It wasn't every day that people took him by surprise, but..."Why do you ask?" -- "They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?" -- “I am a shadowsinger--it's not a title that someone just made.” -- She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" -- Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle. "Yes."

1. Not many people take him by surprise but she did. -- 2. I wouldn't be surprised because it's funny as hell if she asked him because of shadowSINGER -- 3. Azriel taking offense and reaffirming he is, in fact, a SHADOWSINGER. -- 4. Sarah confirmed there will be a scene of him singing, as far as we know Gwyn is likely the only character who knows he does, also the fact that SJM created something common between the two of them and it's that they both sing? -- 5. It's sweet to think that Gwyn wanted to know something about him and asked him about something she herself loves to do, which is sing.

✨ "I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days." Azriel laughed. "I’ll give you that."

Gwyn complaining about Nessian and Az is like "I can relate " 😂

✨ Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." -- Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.

She smiled at him and both him and his shadows felt calm 🥹 like compare how aloof and depressed he was at the start of his scene with Gwyn to him feeling this just after one conversation with her 😭😭 it's so 😭😭 I love them so fucking much.

✨ Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

"That charming irreverence" Gwyn is so unapologetic about that irreverence I love her for it -- also, that's a clear, in-your-face, clue about a mating bond. I stand by that and my opinion remains unchanged since I first read the bonus chapter in 2021.

✨ Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, "I’ll give it to Gwyneth, Tell her a friend left it for her". -- He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... "Fine. Thank you."

I don't really find this alarming when people try to push into my face. It's obvious they're not in love "yet" and Azriel doesn't have any friends outside the IC, he doesn't know how to label it. It's still early to even label it. That "but..." leaves an opening there.

✨ Clotho's pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her. -- Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. -- But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. -- A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

When Clotho thanked him for the joy the gift wil bring to Gwyn that's when something sparked in him. That's when he started to picture that joy. "For whatever reason" she's likely your mate bro that's why but we'll save that for later. He was aware and conscious enough to erase his smile yet bury the image of Gwyn's joy in his chest. He had a DAMN SMILE on his face while thinking of Gwyn's joy, like, that's so precious 😭 and Clotho is 100% true, she deserves all the joy the world has to offer for her (I just wish it wasn't a necklace meant for someone else). I get the kindness behind the act but it can bite him in the ass if SJM brings it up in the main book.

That's only a teaser for what's to come and that's the purpose of the bonus chapter. I can see why Sarah was more excited for readers to read Azriel's chapter than Feysand's chapter. She knew what she was doing here and what she's setting up. I didn't want to post the earlier scenes since I don't want to deal with people showing up with pitchforks and I don't need to talk about other ships I'm happy and content to gush about my own.

Every time I reread this chapter it just reminds me of how obvious Gwyn and Azriel's set up is and you don't need a pairing to bang or make out to create a set up. We didn't even get much but they are going to be such a fun couple, I need more of funny and easy-going Azriel.

#gwynriel #acosf #I'm reminded of the first time I read it #I was not spoiled by anything so I didn't know Gwyn was in it #when she showed up I SQUEALED #how much I fucking adore her #she really brought some light into what was a dark and depressing chapter #an absolute angel #I already was picking up clues from ACOSF but the bonus chapter confirmed what's coming #and I am fucking ready

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bluginkgo · 9 months

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"Nice Corpse House My Guy" Remastered Behind Scenes!

The most glaring and obviously annoying thing that's evident in this comic- if you even wanna call it that- are the god forsaken BACKGROUNDS. There was a lot of experimentation going on for backgrounds here. Because the first couple pictures, THAT is what I used to draw backgrounds as. Trees are sticks and grass is flat. I realized that wasn't gonna cut it. I didn't like it at all. So I started experimenting and boy was it messy. It finally sorta settled on the style by the end of the comic. I'm still unhappy with it, but it'll have to do for now.

Here's a small comparison

One thing that I ran into was how I was gonna show that N was in his "killer mode." I could have placed the X's over the pupils, but found it unnatural looking in my style. So instead, it was settled to a concentrated light in the pupils.

Best seen between these two. The second N snaps out of it, the X/light in his pupils disappears, and the normal light returns to his eyes, which is similar to Uzi's.

Another thing I started slowly including was Uzi's little tooth on her beak.

The jutting out portion on her beak is a personal touch. Although it doesn't really matter, I included it to separate her from the rest of the "worker drones." Seen as she's an absolute solver host and has a solver form, something was going to creep up in her crow design, hence the little teeth. Doll would have them too, given I draw her in the form I've been thinking about.

Another thing I ran into, was WHAT WAS UZI GONNA TAKE N DOWN WITH?! This is a bird vs. a dog! No way was a bird gonna decommission a whole dog! Then this scene came up in my recent rewatch of Murder Drones.

And it clicked. Loooong long time ago, I had a very specific hyperfixation: birds. One thing I learned that some pigeons do, was they're capable of doing a somersault. And in mid-air, too!

I was finally set. The SICK AS HELL RAILGUN was downgraded to a simple piece of shiny glass/pebble that attracted Uzi- and crows love shiny things. And the same pebble will be used to launch at N's sensor that made him trip over. Because I was also not going to draw N doggo losing his head. I love gorey and bloody shows and art- hence why I watched Murder Drones- but I honestly had no idea how to recreate that, and I suck at drawing gore in general, I mean, did you SEE the crow N was chewing on? That was my best try honestly.

Here are some progress shots and how the layers worked in the scene where N is bonked with a stick.

As per usual, start with a sketch, this is actually 2nd sketch. The first is much rougher, just some circles and random shapes to outline his body form.

Then, this is all outlined and rendered. Along with some additions like the stick and the little rock.

The background was the hardest, aside from some weird angles I picked to draw Uzi and N at. I suck at backgrounds, like I've mentioned many times before. So, this needed a lot of testing and experimenting. Most of this works because I found some cool brushes to use. But aside from that, I honestly still don't like how it looks. It's slightly better than my stick trees and flat grass though, I guess.

Put it all together, add a black layer to simulate nighttime, put some lights to show moonlight through trees and voila, you've got an N doggo that got bonked by a stick! I see this project/comic mostly as practice and testing. Background testing mostly, and some brushes. The background/brush testing actually spilled over into another post of the solver Uzi I made a bit back. I'd say I was pretty happy how it turned out, but brush wise, I was going to test around a little more.

NUzi comic 'Sleep' is my next project. Uhhh, don't ask me when I'm gonna have it out, I have no idea. I'm guessing sometime end of Jan and beginning of Feb. But that might be delayed seeing as Murder Drones ep7 should be out sometime soon too, so I'll need to go crazy about that for a bit and then I'll go back to my usual thing ^_^ 'Sleep' will take place still between the Pilot and Heartbeat.

P.S. I have all 26 pages story boarded... good god what happened to the 'mini' part of the comic 😭

Anyways, why are you still here?! Have a cookie ^_^ you made it! Have a nice day now, bye bye <3

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ozzgin · 3 months

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Dearest Ozzgin, do you have any tips on how you stay motivated ? Everytime I go to write something I feel majorly stumped.

(P.s I love your work!)

During the pandemic I struggled to keep up with my academic studies, and so I got myself a self-help book about excelling in science: A mind for numbers by Barbara Oakley. I'm mentioning this because it ended up offering great insight on how to stay focused, motivated, and disciplined, regardless of what you're doing, and I use the advice to this day, even for my hobby writing. This is a mix of everything: tips from the book, other advice I've found online, and what helps me in particular.

Find a schedule. I personally find it easier to start an activity once it becomes part of my routine. It's something my brain anticipates and prepares for. Now, it doesn't have to be an exact timetable. But you can have a look at your current schedule, and come up with a rough interval. For example, you might have more time in the evening, or maybe you have a burst of energy in the morning. Pick a time when you're not too tired and try to stick to it most days.

Focus on the process, not achievement. So, you've established your routine. What did you set as an achievement? Concrete goals, such as finishing up a story, or writing a given number of words? While this isn't a bad idea, it can sometimes contribute to that stumped feeling you've mentioned. I once read an article from a professor who suggested the following: pick your time window, and focus on just doing something. In that hour you've dedicated to writing, you can write as planned, or you can sketch up the characters, create visuals, build an outline, draw a timeline, collect bullet points to elaborate later on, and so on. Maybe you're not particularly inspired at the moment; don't let it stress you out, just work around it instead.

Don't force yourself. Our brain uses two different processes for thinking - the focused and diffuse modes. In order to solve a problem or task, it's ideal to be in a focused mode. Your brain is actively building connections and coming up with solutions. A neat little detail, however, is that your brain doesn't stop working once you move on from a problem. It continues fiddling with it in the background: that's the diffuse mode. It's why you sometimes have a sudden eureka moment, despite not actively thinking of said topic. If you're struggling with your story and can't come up with anything, step away. Do activities that trigger your diffuse mode, like sleeping, listening to music, walking, cycling, drawing, taking a shower or bath, meditating. Let your mind fiddle with it freely, give it some time, and try again later.

Don't worry about how you write. You don't have to sit down and write entire paragraphs. I used to have an idea for a story, then I'd struggle to come with connectors for said idea. What happens before that? How do I begin? I'd end up wasting a lot of time writing the premise instead of the actual thought I originally had. Now I just write down whatever I feel like, while I have the inspiration, and fill the rest later. Even if it's just a sentence, or a concept, scribble whatever comes to mind and patch it up afterwards. It'll be easier to continue when you have a starting point to build around.

Small steps. Lastly, it's okay to take breaks, and it's perfectly fine to have days, weeks, or even months when you're simply just not in the mood. There are other ways in which you can build your story. You can draw the characters, build world maps, watch movies related to your topics, create fitting playlists, all that jazz. Be patient with yourself and don't forget why you're (presumably) writing in the first place - because it brings you joy. :)

#personal #advice #writing motivation

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u3pxx · 3 months

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✱ frequently asked questions!

hey there, the name’s den/sun! i’m a filipino artist with too many ideas and too little sleep! i mainly post and draw ace attorney and disco elysium with the occasional dungeon meshi drawing. i also like good omens, danganronpa, tmnt 2012, undertale/deltarune, mob psycho 100, splatoon, fairly odd parents: a new wish, haikyuu, and pokemon! :^]c

rest of the faq under read more (because it's very long lol) | dividers from here! | faq will be updated every now and then

what program do you use?

old answer: i use clip studio paint ex! as of 06/24/2023: i use clip studio paint pro v3 for illustrations and clip studio paint v1 ex for animatics

what brush do you use?

old answer: i mainly use the gasa gaya line pen for sketching and the t-pen for both sketching and inking as of 09/22/2023: i use the koya pen for sketching and inking and the gasa gaya line pen for inking occasionally. as of 12/19/2023: i use the a pen that feels like a pencil (鉛筆を感じる液だまりペン) with the pen pressure opacity turned on for sketching (i also use it for inking occasionally). i don’t ink that much right now but i still also use the gasa gaya line pen for it. as of 03/07/2024: i use both the a pen that feels like a pencil (鉛筆を感じる液だまりペン) and calish ink for both sketching and inking. as of 07/08/2024: i use the dry ink brush on clip studio paint.

do you do commissions?

yes, i do! currently closed right now because i’m a student and art school is hard but feel free to take a quick look here if you would be so interested! :^] however, i do occasionally open 2 slots for sketch commissions whenever i’m in need of some money so watch out for that pftt <3

do you sell prints?

yep! i have an inprnt!

where else can we find you?

you can find me both in twitter, Instagram, and art fight! i also have a youtube where i haven’t posted in 4 years pftt

can we use your drawings?

you can use my drawings for profile pictures, banners, even your little tiktok video edits as long as i'm credited (with a link back to my art account, please!) (also if you did do little tiktok edits with my art can you please send them to me i would be so delighted to see them) just so we’re clear too, i don’t allow reposting of my art on other social media without my permission or credit. thanks!

can you draw [insert thing here]?

i don’t do requests! and usually, when i ask for things to draw, it depends if i’m feeling up to it so sorry if i don’t!

can i draw fanart of your au’s/oc’s?

YES! please, i’d be so dang honored! and please tag me too if you ever post it so i could see it and reblog it here! :^D (and also gush wail cry and scream about it forever and ever)

what does your username “u3pxx” mean?

it’s just my name den upside down, the x’s are because my old selfsona design had x’s for pupils and i wanted to incorporate that.

what does your tag “pampabait” mean?

pampabait (pam‧pa‧ba‧it) is a tagalog word that loosely means “to make [something] kind”, since the prefix “pampa-” is used to denote the causing of a state and “bait” means “kind”! the way i use it is also kind of referencing the phrase "nasisiraan ng bait" (losing one's mind/starting to feel insane). it's just a tag i use for some wholesome stuff i see that would stop me from going I HATE EVERYTHING FORVEVERRRR

have you played all the ace attorney games?

i have not! only because i got into ace attorney via let’s plays, instead. me and some friends are however trying to finish dgs though we haven’t been able to play for a long time pftt. we’re currently still on dgs2-1.

who’s your favorite ace attorney character?

look at me in the eye, boy. wheezes but it is apollo justice, trucy wright, and klavier gavin.

TAG DIRECTORY

✱ GENERAL TAGS

#sunnysidedraws - all of my polished drawings or doodles i consider high-effort #sunnysidedoodles - stuff that i wouldn’t consider polished but hey, they’re cute lmao #sunnysideanswers - all of my answered asks #sunnysiderambles - my general thoughts, rambles, or whatever #sunnysidetutorials - answered asks on how i do certain art stuff of mine #sunnysidelb - liveblogs of whatever i’m watching/reading #sunnysideplays - liveblogs of the games i play (it's just pokemon right now lol) #sunnysidepolls - whatever polls i make up #sunnysidezines - for previews and the finished pieces of all the zines i’ve been in

✱ ART TAG DIRECTORY (in case you just only wanna see the stuff i drew for a specific thing)

#sunnysideattorney - ace attorney art #sunnysideomens - good omens art (includes bad omens) #sunnysidedisco - disco elysium art #sunnysidemeshi - dungeon meshi art #sunnysidepotions - potionomics art #sunnysideprom - monster prom art #sunnysidemons - pokemon art #sunnysidefairies - fairly odd parents: a new wish art #sunnysideball - haikyuu art #den’s gavinners tag - includes all of my gavinners ocs art, rambles, asks i’ve answered about them, and other posts that reminded me of them #den’s aa roleswap au - what it says on the tin, includes my art and also art that others made for the au! :’^D i also have a sideblog specifically for it #den’s bad omens - has all my stuff and art others made for my good omens roleswap au! #disco femlysium - art of fem!harry and fem!kim (and everybody else) #den's disco swap - art of my disco elysium roleswap au #disco meshi au - art of my dungeon meshi au for disco elysium

#sunnysiderambles #i dont know if i tag this one with anything lol #bc tumblr mobile won't let me link my old faq sighs

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her-power · 9 months

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The End of All Things (Part Four: e.m. x fem reader)

TRIGGER WARNING & C/W: 18++++ MDNI!!! Sweet! Eddie, hurt/comfort, grief, talk of grief, fluff, heavy drug use, suicidal thoughts, talk of death/dying, lots of crying, lots of swearing, some smut, unprotected p+v, trauma

Part One: Denial Part Two: Anger Part Three: Bargaining

Summary: Relationships are tested, choices are made, words hurt, and you might end up kicking Eddie Munson's ass. Full plot summary is on part one of this series.

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: I also submitted an original sketch in this part. It's been years since I have drawn something so it's not great and I fucking forgot how hard it is to draw hands and draw a person lmao but I wanted to give you guys a little added bonus to this series.

A/N #2: This part was a bit rough for me to write, but also super healing in a way. I felt like I was looking into the eyes of all of my friends as I was writing this and just remembering things after so many years since losing my mom. Part Five will be released after the holidays, I need a bit of a break to be with my family and be prepared for the griefy feels. I love you all, thank you for giving me a platform to be creative and to heal. <3

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eddie was pacing in the break room of the record store; inhaling deeply on his cigarette as he tried to gather his thoughts. The trip back home was uneventful, you had stayed at the Inn in Philadelphia for a night again. He had noticed a change in you after the cemetery. It was subtle changes; you would be unusually quiet, but then you would snap out of it and that big, beautiful smile he loved so much would appear. You were tired a lot; Eddie had noticed the bags under your eyes as the weeks went by. He knew you weren’t sleeping. Even when he would stay in the same bed as you, he knew you only pretended to be asleep. When you thought he was asleep, he would hear you rummage around in the kitchen, or go sit out on the porch, smoking a joint.

Then it hit the two-month mark, and you were starting to terrify him. Summer was almost over, you had lost interest in things you loved to do, like painting, singing, reading. You would go to work, come home, stay awake, sleep, and then go to work again.

Eddie would try to get you to talk to him, but you would shut down, blocking out anything and everything around you.

He plops on the chair, his leg bobbing nervously, cigarette dangling out of his mouth. He stood up and started pacing again, he couldn’t sit.

Eddie had called the realtor two weeks ago; she had a kind voice and gave him useful information and advice when it came to potentially buying a house. He was also curious why there weren’t any hits on the house, it had been on the market for a while and parts of it had been redone but no one was interested in buying it. She told him it was a mystery to her as well, there was nothing aesthetically wrong with the house, the foundation was perfect, the roof was brand new, but no one seemed to care for it. The owners had lowered their price five thousand dollars under the asking price, and there was still no jump.

He had been saving money here and there for a couple years; he would call it his emergency fund. But when he had saw how you looked at your childhood home, how your eyes lit up with nostalgia and joy, he knew what he had to do.

He was doing everything in his power to get enough money for the down payment on the house; he had mentioned the plan to your father. Eddie had thought he would think he was crazy, that neither one of you could afford to live in a house, let alone a mortgage. Instead, he asked Eddie how much he needed. Eddie didn’t want anything, he told him, just support. Your father then said something to him that he will never forget.

“I have two loves in my life: my wife, and my daughter. Some people aren’t lucky enough to have that happen to them. Some dad’s leave, some do stupid shit and some die. I love my daughter with all my heart, but I don’t want her to feel stuck here. I don’t want her to worry about me or worry about what my future holds. I don’t want her to stop her life because her mother died. I’m gonna be okay. I’m going through it, and I’m always going to, but I’m okay. I’m practically an old man, I lived my life, and it was beautiful. It’s still beautiful, but I’m not gonna fully rest until I know that my daughter will be okay. And if she stays here, she won’t be.” He swallows, taking off his glasses to clean the lenses. “Now, I’m asking you how much you need not as a charity. But as a man, looking at a kid I watched grow up to become a man and fall in love with my daughter, who has been by her side through all of this. Wiped her tears, fed her, laugh with her. My daughter loved that house, and the fact that you didn’t even hesitate to call the realtor speaks volumes just what kind of man you are. You want to see her happy, and you are a big part of her happiness. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to love my daughter. I know her mother would agree. So, you’re gonna tell me a number, and I’m gonna do my best to give it to you. Don’t fight me on this.”

Eddie had almost sobbed right there; it was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to him. He told him a number, and your father said to give him two weeks. Part of him still didn’t want to take it, but he knew if he didn’t, your father would give the whole thing to the realtor.

He had lit up another cigarette and blew his bangs out of his face. He had called you a few hours ago; you had the day off and planned on taking a nap. Eddie had told you he had found this certain type of acrylic paint you had needed and asked if he wanted to pick it up for you. You had thanked him but said no, and the rest of the phone call was uncomfortable silence.

“Munson!” Sully’s booming voice comes echoing into the break room.

Eddie sighs. “What?”

Sully peeks his head in, his large frame would intimidate most people, especially since he had an enormous throat tattoo, but Sully was a big teddy bear. He was a businessman second, and a father to two beautiful little girls first. “You good, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He inhales on his cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray.

“Any word from her?” Sully was asking about you, and Eddie had told him he spoke to you a while ago. “How’s the money saving going?”

Eddie had told Sully about his plans, and he was more than onboard with it. He said he was close to the owner of the record store on Newbury St in Boston, that he had put in a good word for him, and the owner was more than happy to welcome him into the store when he was ready. The record store in Boston was two floors, both floors had rows of records, and the bottom floor had a little sound stage where locals would perform for a monthly open mic night.

Eddie had gone back on the floor with a tote of jazz vinyls, he sat in the aisle and organized the records by artist. Robin had come to visit, had sat on the floor with him, passing him each artist he asked for.

“I’m worried about her.” Robin says suddenly, looking up to meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie glances at her and goes back to moving around the vinyls, swallowing hard.

“Me too.” Eddie says softly.

“Has she said anything? When I saw her at the Hideout last week, she looked like a walking zombie for Pete’s sake.” Robin looks up at him, he shook his head, staring at his hands, the skull ring on his middle finger. He fingers it gently. “Are you alright, man?”

“Not really.” He laughs tiredly and looks at her. “She won’t talk to me about how she’s feeling. She’ll talk to me about everything else but that.”

“What happened at the cemetery?” She asked gently.

Eddie shakes his head, running his hands over his face. “A breaking point, I think.”

“Jesus.” She mutters. “What do we do? Intervention? Get a priest? I don’t know how this shit works; I’ve never had someone close to me die before. Is there a rule book? Do we just not say anything and let her be stubborn and just slowly disappear until she’s whittled down to nothing, and we just glue her back together and tell her we love her but what if at that point it’s too late and we can’t—"

Eddie kneels in front of Robin, gently holding her face. “Hey, breathe, dude. Deep breaths.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to her.” Robin tells him quietly, her eyes filling with tears as she looks at her friend. “Why did this have to happen?”

Eddie caresses her head, gently patting her and pulls her in for a hug. “I don’t know.” He mutters. He was so tired of saying it, tired of saying he didn’t know, because it sounded so fucking simple, but it wasn’t.

“Why doesn’t she want to talk to us? We’re her friends, she shouldn’t have to suffer alone.” Robin looks up at him and he sighs, gently knocking her chin.

“I’m going over there after work. I don’t care if she hates me, I need to at least get an idea of what’s going on.” He leans back against the shelves, leaning his arms on his bent knees and Robin wipes her face.

“How are you holding up?” Eddie looks at her. “With all of this? Losing her too?”

Eddie gives her a sad smile. “Would you believe if I told you I was fine?”

“No.” She smirks at him.

“It’s a surreal feeling honestly.” He realizes he hasn’t spoken about this with anyone, even you. “The only time I ever experienced some sort of loss was when my dad went to prison, but fuck him, he can rot there for all I care. But he’s still alive, she’s not. I’m still trying to process how someone can be here one minute, living, breathing, and then just be…dead.” He shrugs, realizing he’s crying and quickly wipes his tears away, he almost laughs. “See? I don’t even notice I’m crying, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Robin says, reaching over to squeeze his knee. “You’re going through it too.”

“Yeah, but I feel like I shouldn’t.” He sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “She wasn’t my mother.”

Robin gives him a sweet smile. “No, but she was the next best thing to you.”

He sighs, shaking his head, another tear falls down his cheek. “There’s just so much pain in her. I can feel it.”

He points to his heart, “I see how much pain she’s in and I want to take all of it, so she doesn’t have to, I’d rather suffer with it for the rest of my life, then watch someone like her go through that when she didn’t deserve it. Her mother didn’t deserve to die. I guess no one does, even the shitty ones.”

“Nah, the shitty ones deserve it.” Robin laughs and Eddie chuckles. “You really love her, huh?”

Eddie nods and he sighs, looking into her eyes. “I have to tell you something.”

Eddie tells her his entire plan, about the house, about your father helping him with some of the down payment. He told her about going to see your childhood home, how it’s been on the market since June, and no one is interested. He told her that if his plan works, he’s gonna ask you to marry him the first night you sleep in the house, and that was the first time he has said it out loud. Robin cried happy tears, followed by punching him in the arm.

“You guys are leaving me!”

“Ow!” Eddie laughs, rubbing his arm. “It’s not even set in stone yet.”

“Dude, you know it’s gonna be!” Robin smiles, pulling him in for a hug. “I’m happy for you, but I’m gonna fucking miss you, man.”

Eddie kisses the top of her head, rubbing her shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll miss you too.”

“Steve is gonna be devastated.”

“Nah he’ll be fine.” Eddie jokes. “Yeah, I know. His little boy is growing up.”

“That sounds so gross when you say it like that.”

***

Eddie had driven to your house after closing the store; your car was still in the driveway and the outside lights were on. Your father had gone to Jimmy’s for the weekend, and he had called Eddie at the store to make sure he planned on going over there. Your father didn’t say it, but he was worried about you too.

Eddie walks into the house, hearing the television playing in the living room. He peeks his head into the living and sees your form curled up on the couch, a knitted blanket over you with your hood over your head. It was freezing in the house, Eddie had saw you set the air conditioner to 60 degrees. The only source of light was from the television, it was nick at nite and I Love Lucy was playing. Eddie notices the three empty beer bottles on the coffee table, a half smoked joint, and a bottle of aspirin. He quietly clears the table, dumping out the remaining beer from the bottles in the sink and tossing them in the recycling. He washes his hands and heads back to the living room; he squats on the side of the couch where you were laying, leaning forward to kiss your cheeks softly and caress your head. You stir, opening your eyes, meeting Eddie’s and you smile softly.

“Hey baby.” Eddie says sweetly to you, rubbing your cheek.

“Hey.” Your voice is groggy, and you sit up a little, stretching. “What time is it?” You pull your hood down, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“A little after ten. Go back to sleep, I just wanted you to know I was here.” He kisses the top of your hand, and you lean into him to kiss his lips.

“No, it’s okay, I feel like I haven’t seen you.” You lay back on the couch pillow, reaching out your hand to cup his cheek. Eddie put his hand over yours, and scans your face, he hated how tired you looked. Your hair was in a messy braid over your shoulder, you looked like you had been crying for hours before he got there.

And your eyes.

Eddie inhales a shaky breath as he looks in your eyes and sees that the light that was once there, was gone. You notice his staring.

“What?” You ask with a smile.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, getting up and sitting next to you, lifting your legs to drape them over his lap. “I just missed you today.”

You smile, reaching over to entwine your fingers. Eddie leans his head back on the couch, gently rubbing massaging circles around your thighs as you both stare at the television.

Eddie feels you shudder under his touch, so he stops.

Apparently, you didn’t want him to stop, because the next thing that happens is you straddling him, pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss. He holds your waist tightly and groans when you grind yourself against his jeans. You pull off your hoodie, wearing only a lace bra and you deepen the kiss again.

Talk to her, idiot! Eddie is saying to himself, and he moans in response when your teeth graze his throat. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she’s avoiding, she knows how she looks, stop kissing her and talk to her!

Eddie’s conscious screams at him but he continues to kiss you, continues to touch your skin. His skin prickles with goosebumps when your hand touches his stomach above his jeans. Your hand slides down into his pants, grasping his hard length in your hand and Eddie moans loudly.

You’re a stupid fuck! Snap out of it, dummy!

“Wait, wait, wait.” Eddie finally says breathlessly against your lips. “Stop, stop.”

You pull away from him, removing your hand as if it burned. You stare at him with confusion and concern that you may have hurt him. Eddie runs his hands over his face, leaning forward on his knees. “We need to talk.”

“Don’t like that.” You say softly, laughing a little, your heart was racing.

“No, it’s not that kind of talk.” Eddie gives you a sad smile, taking your hand in his and rubbing his thumb over your skin. “You’re starting to scare me.”

You pause, staring at his face. “What? What do you mean?”

Eddie looks at you, really looks at you. “You know what I mean.”

You pull your hand away from his and he sighs, he can already feel you pulling away, he can see it in your eyes too. “Eddie, I’m fine.”

Frustration rose in his chest, and he wants to laugh but he doesn’t, he scoffs instead. “Is that a lie you’re telling me or telling yourself? Do you really think you’re fine?”

She blinks, her eyes already widening with tears. “I’m not lying, Eddie.”

“When was the last time you ate? When was the last time you did something you actually enjoyed? Because for two months, you have been disappearing in front of my eyes.” His own tears were filling his eyes, and he blinks them away. “You need to talk to me.”

“And say what? What do you want me to say, Eddie?” You raise your voice.

“Fucking anything!” He gets up from the couch and paces. You watch him with sad eyes. “Jesus Christ; I know you’re hurting; I know you’re in pain, I can clearly see that but all I’m asking is for you to talk to me. I told you I’m here for you, but instead you’re pushing me away!”

“Okay. You want me to talk? Let’s talk.” Your bottom lip trembles as you look up at him and toss your hoodie back over your body. “Every single damn day I am praying that I don’t wake up in this life, and I wake up in the next because I am tired. I am so tired, Eddie. When I sleep, I don’t feel this fucking throbbing pain in my chest like I feel right now. When I sleep, I have dreams instead of nightmares now and I see her. I see her and she’s alive and I want to stay there. I physically cannot stand to look at myself in the mirror because of how fucked up I look. I don’t tell you these things because it’s not your fucking job to heal me, it’s no one’s job.”

Eddie stands there stunned, his fingers clench around his chest, a lump forms in his throat, and a breath escapes him. “You’re telling me, that every day you pray you don’t wake up? How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?!”

“You wanted to talk!” You snap at him. “You wanted the truth so I’m telling you!”

Tears form in his eyes as he stares at you. “Do you have any idea what that would do to me if I lost you? I mean, fuck, I feel like I’m almost there just by how you’ve been lately. It would destroy me if something happened to you. It would kill me. And you pray for that every day?”

You stand up from the couch, grabbing the joint from the table and lighting it quickly; you inhale and let the smoke billow from your nostrils. “I don’t want to die Eddie.”

“Then what the fuck are you saying to me?!” He yells, tears spilling from his eyes.

“I’m saying I don’t want to feel this pain anymore! If I could cut it out of me without bleeding out I would do it! If I could swallow a bunch of pills just to get rid of it and be okay, I would do it! I don’t want to die; I want to kill this part of me that feels all this pain and guilt and fucking grief and just be done with it!” You yell at him, hot tears stream down your face. “So yeah, I pray for it.”

Eddie runs his hands over his mouth, a small sob escaping him as he stares at you. “Why haven’t you told me this?” His voice is so full of pain, it kills you.

“Because it’s not your job to heal me.”

“It is if I want to spend the rest of my life with you!” He cries and your breath hitches. “Fuck! I want it all with you. I want you; I want the marriage, I want those babies with you, I want a fucking house in the suburbs with a damn dog! Hell, maybe even a cat. But I meant it when I said that when I look to the future, you’re in it. And right now; I feel like you’re telling me you don’t want any of that.”

“Of course, I do.” You say quietly, averting your eyes, wiping away your tears.

“I don’t think you do.” Eddie’s hand goes over his heart again, feeling it slowly break.

“You’re not inside my head, okay?” You snap at him and point to your temple. “It’s a fucking mess in here. Why would you want to be with someone for the rest of your life who can’t even take a shower? Who has a devil and angel on her shoulder, one telling her it’s okay to feel all this pain and the other telling her, grab those drugs from a few months ago! You won’t feel a goddamn thing!”

“Hold on a minute, you told me you didn’t have any left.” He was big mad; you could see it in his eyes.

“I lied.” You meet his eyes, and he lets out a laugh.

“I know exactly what you’re trying to do and hate to break it to you, sweetheart. It’s not gonna work.” He wipes his eyes and his nose. “Did you do it?”

“No.” You whisper.

“Go get it then.” Eddie sneers and you look at him like he slapped you. “If you want to do it, numb your pain that way, fucking doit. I’ll do it with you. It will be a Kodak fucking moment.”

“No. Eddie what the fu—"

“Why? You want to kill that part of yourself, right? Why don’t you kill it slowly with the drugs? Better yet, I’ll go find the guy that supplied the shit that I had, and I’ll go on a fucking ride.” He heads towards the door, tears still running down his face, his eyes wild. You follow him and grab his arm.

“Eddie, stop it! That could fucking kill you!”

“Just a small part of me.” Eddie says, his tone cold.

You let go of his arm, eyes narrowing. “Oh, fuck you!”

“Stings, doesn’t it?”

“What are you doing!? Why are you acting like this?!” You yell through your tears.

“Because you’re not the only one who lost her!” It’s out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Your eyes are wide, glistening with tears. He stares at you, rubbing his palm over his lips. “I cannot imagine the pain you feel right now. But I look at you and I can feel it radiate it from you, every single day. The light in your eyes is gone. And it’s because you choose to suffer with this grief alone.”

You step back from him, shaking your head as you stare at him. “You know what? You need to go. Get out.”

“You think I’m gonna leave after what you just told me? You’re out of your mind.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“You are a fucking asshole!” Your eyes are wide, wild. You open the front door. “I don’t care if you sleep outside in your van, you need to get away from me!” Tears are pouring down your cheeks as you throw open the front door, you look up at him. “You promised me you wouldn’t push. You promised.”

“I guess we’re both liars then.” His big brown eyes match your same wild ones, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Please. Just go. Go away.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Eddie says through his gritted teeth.

“I want you to! I don’t want to see you! I don’t want to be in the same room as you! Get the fuck out of my house! Get out or I’m calling the fucking cops!”

He stares at you hard. “You wouldn’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t? I’ll just say the magic words, town freak, right?”

His breath hitches and he felt his heart snap in two. Those words have haunted him for five years, and you used it as ammunition, you aimed, and fired. He looks out to his van and then back at you, his face turns from sadness to full on anger. “Fine. Go ahead and suffer alone.”

He walks away from you, you slam the door shut, and slide down to the floor. Your breathing accelerates and you sob into your hands. You did it, you actually did it. You just took the last ten years, wrapped it up in a ball and threw it in the dumpster.

Eddie hops into his van, not even bothering to put his seat belt on and peels out of your driveway. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, he just drives. His heart was pounding, behind his eyes stung, he felt like he had his entire body was vibrating. He passes the Leaving Hawkins sign and keeps driving until he’s on a dark stretch of road; he pulls over to the side and turns the car off. He leans his forehead against the steering wheel, his breathing picking up, his hands grip the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. He leans back, punching his dashboard not once, not twice, but three times, and he screams, the sound so guttural, so full of pain, full of anger. “Fuuuuuuck!!!!!!!”

He sobs, hard. His body trembling as every single emotion that he had bottled up these last few months finally made its way to the surface. He shouldn’t have pushed, he knows that, but he’s glad he did. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have known how bad you were hurting, but it didn’t matter now. You told him to go, so he did. He takes a cigarette out, lights it and inhales, his breath trembling as the smoke comes out. He didn’t want to feel like this anymore, he needed to feel something else other than this pain, and he felt like a goddamn hypocrite when he turns on the van, driving to Indianapolis to a spot where he knew he’d be able to get rid of his pain. It didn’t matter now, none of it mattered, he was just pulling the strings to his own destruction.

He completely disassociated on the ride to the city; he doesn’t even remember putting on music. He goes down a side street, trying to remember if he’s in the right spot, and when he sees the neon BEER sign, he knew he reached his destination. He only knew about this place because of his dad, he had brought him here when he was last out of prison. In every corner of the bar, someone was snorting something, drinking something, smoking something. He parks the van and gets out; as soon as he opens the door to the bar he is hit with aromas of weed, cigarette smoke, and stale beer. It wasn’t that crowded, and Eddie was glad. He sits on the stool at the bar, the bartender was an older woman, maybe in her late fifties, with kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“What can I get you, honey?” She asks sweetly, placing a napkin in front of him.

“Whiskey, please, straight.” He hands her a twenty-dollar bill, which she hesitates to take, but does anyway.

She places the glass in front of him, and he brings the rim of the glass to his lips, knocking the whole thing back. He winces at the bitter taste and twirls his finger around asking for another. She refills his glass, and he nurses this one.

“You look like you’ve been trekking through a war zone there, sweetheart.” She tells him gently, leaning against the bar, shining a glass.

Eddie meets her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not gonna pry, I’m just not sure if you’ve come to the wrong place or the right place.” She gently pats his hand and goes down to the other side of the bar to talk to the other patrons. Eddie glances around the bar, and his eyes fix on a booth in the corner. There’s a man speaking to a woman with their heads bowed, she couldn’t have been much younger than Eddie, she was strikingly beautiful, but had very sad eyes, he notices the exchange. The man had put something in her hand, and she walks away from him, leaving the bar. The man notices Eddie staring and nods at him with a smile, Eddie nods back, looking away from him. He stares at his glass, twirling it in his fingers, the brown liquid moves side to side as he stares at the glass. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, the man was still there, quietly sipping his beer, looking up at the television that had some sort of sports game on.

Eddie knocks the rest of his second drink back and gets up from the stool. He feels the hair prickle on the back of his neck as he walks towards the man. The man looks at him and smiles, leaning back in his seat. He looked like a washed-up version of Robert DeNiro, a little intimidating, otherwise he seemed nice.

Eddie takes out his hand and the man takes it. “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

“Leon.” He sounded southern, Eddie thought. “What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know, what do you got?” Eddie asks, already feeling the effects of the drugs that he didn’t even take yet. That’s how much he loved it the first time he tried it, and that was by accident. Again, it didn’t matter anymore.

Puppet.

“Uppers, downers, china white—"

Pulling the strings.

“How much for the China white?”

Destruction.

Eddie had driven back to the county line outside of Hawkins and had parked in an abandoned fishing spot. The only source of light was from the moon reflecting off the pond, and he opens the square. Leon had told him that if he wasn’t going to shoot it, he’d have to go slow, a small bump. Eddie hated needles, despite having all his tattoos, he couldn’t understand how someone could willingly stick a needle in their arm.

You’re about to snort it, you stupid fuck. What’s the difference? It’s still heroin.

Eddie takes a cassette from under his seat, he didn’t even bother to look at who the artist was, he was gonna throw it out anyway. He sprinkles a little bit of powder on it, no bigger than his fingernail and takes a rolled-up dollar bill. With no hesitation, he’s snorting it into his air ways. He grunts, his nostrils stinging, and a wave of nausea hits him. The cassette tape falls out of his hands, and he feels the vomit hit the back of his throat. He pushes his door open with his shoulder, vomiting all over the ground. He leans his body onto the door panel, wiping his mouth, coughing a little and that’s when he feels it. His eyes flutter close, and he feels a smile grace his lips.

“Oh shit.” He whispers, feeling the euphoria coursing through his blood stream, his nervous system, everywhere. He tries to think of something, think of you, think of her, and he felt nothing. Puppet. Strings. Destruction. He practically drags himself into his driver seat and slams his door. He reaches for the bag of powder, blindly finds the dollar bill and snorts again. He laughs when he lifts his head up, it falls back onto the headrest. Before he knew it, it was all gone and he was smoking a cigarette, his eyes half lidded, his head nodding to the side. He would jump awake, inhale on the cigarette and nod out again. He was just resting his eyes, he told himself.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in your driveway. He sits up straighter, seeing that it was still dark outside. How the fuck did I get here? He pushes the front door open and practically falls out. He holds his head, the sudden pressure from getting up too fast making him dizzy as he stumbles onto your front porch, pushing your door open. He calls your name, but you don’t answer. He notices the stillness as he stood there, noticing all the lights were off, there was no sound. He suddenly felt sober, and his feet take him to the center of your living room. The light from the bathroom came through the door that was ajar, and all he hears is the sound of his own breathing and his footfalls.

He pushes the door open slowly with his palm, the hinges squeaking, and he sees you lying there. You’re on your back, your head tilted to one side, arms splayed out, unmoving.

A groan escapes him, a sound that started from the very depths of his soul. His body falls against the door, and he falls to his knees. His body felt stiff as he crawled to you, hot, angry tears were pooling from his eyes.

“Nooo…” He groans, his hand shaking as he turns your face, your eyes in a fixed stare. He inhales deeply, cupping your face. You just have to kiss her, and she’ll wake up. That’s all, like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.

Eddie kisses your lips gently, his tears falling to your cheeks, and he lifts his head. You still lay there unmoving, no breath from your lips. His mouth falls open in a gasp as he looks at you, and his body shakes with sobs. He stares at your face, he couldn’t understand what was happening, why this was happening.

“Please come back to me, please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said, please.” He cups your face, smoothing back your hair; you were so cold. “Just wake up now, and we can start over, that’s all. Just wake up…please!!!” He cries and cradles your limp body to him, trying to figure out something, anything that will get you to wake up. He kisses your cheeks, your hair, your forehead.

His head falls back, and a loud, guttural wail escapes his lungs. “Nooooooo!!!”

“Nooooo!” Eddie screams himself awake. The sun was beating down on him in the van as he catches his breath, looking around, panic and fright in his wide brown eyes. He was still parked at the pond. He feels bile rise in his throat and barely gets the door open before he’s violently vomiting on the ground. His vomit from the night before inches from where he stood. He wipes his mouth, his skin sweaty, damp. He squints in the sunlight and holds his stomach. He was still high, but functional, his logical part of his brain working faster than it did last night.

“Fucking idiot, Munson.” He says to himself, and then he remembers his dream. A breath is caught in his throat, and he scrambles himself back in the van, he starts it up, throwing it into reverse and speeds out of there. He was dry heaving on the way to your house, having to stop only once to pull over and vomit again.

He almost forgets to put the van into park when he screeches into your driveway. He almost falls out and scrambles up the steps, your door was unlocked. He doesn’t bother closing it when he runs in and shouts your name. His blood ran cold when he didn’t get a response from you, and he screams your name again. He runs into the living room, his breath caught when he sees that the bathroom door is ajar like in his dream. His heart pounded and he felt his hands shake: it was just a dream, it wasn’t real. Just a dream.

The door squeaks open, and you walk out, towel drying your hair from taking a long hot shower. A whimper escapes his lungs, and he startles you.

The towel falls from your hands as you stare at him and he stares at you, he’s looking at you like he’s seeing a ghost. You immediately notice his features, his pale face, his eyes wide with panic, almost black. He was sweaty, and your hand goes to your mouth to hold back your cry, you knew immediately what he had done and part of you felt responsible.

There was desperation on both of your faces, and the two of you crash into each other, sobbing and holding each other. Eddie holds your face in his hands, kissing you over and over, his tears mixing with yours.

“You’re here.” He kept saying and you weren’t sure why. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He cries holding your face and you shake your head, sputtering, you can feel your face flush as you caress his face, his hair, staring into his eyes.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have had you leave. I didn’t do the rest of the drugs, I got rid of them, I flushed them. I didn’t do them, I swear.” Panic is in your voice, and he holds onto your waist tightly as you keep touching him, keeping him upright.

Eddie feels his heart split in two and feels the guilt bubbling up in his chest as his head falls to your shoulder and he sobs. You hold him there, rubbing the back of his head as you both sobbed. “I fucked up last night, I’m so sorry. But I needed to not feel anything. I thought it didn’t matter, I thought I lost you forever and I couldn’t…couldn’t handle losing another person, I couldn’t handle that pain. There’s so much of it and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

You pull away and hold his face, shaking your head as you give him a small smile. “We have to feel it, I realized that after you left last night. That’s one of the only ways that lets us know that she was real, that the pain is real; that our love is real.”

“How do you not hate me?” His lip trembles. “After everything I said, after what I did.”

“Because I love you. No matter what and that’s a hard fucking pill to swallow when you realize how much you love a person, even when you’re so fucking angry at them.”

You run your thumb along his lips, and he smiles softly. “When you left last night, I wanted to die. I was awful to you, I pushed you away because I thought your life would be a lot less chaotic without me in it. And then…” You inhale deeply, your voice shaking. “Then I felt her. I felt this warmth, this blanket of pure comfort and I just let it consume me. Everything poured out, I thought my guts were gonna shut down and I would be stuck in a loop of constant tears forever, but I let her in, and she stayed awhile.”

Eddie laughs a little as tears continue to fall from his eyes, he caresses your face, your hair and kisses you softly. “I love you.” He whispers to you.

“I know.” You smirk up at him, wiping away his tears.

He kisses you again, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, letting out a sigh of relief. You hold him tight, rubbing his back and arms.

He takes a shower soon afterwards; scrubbing the last night away until his skin felt raw, and he swore he rubbed off most of his chest tattoos. He finds you in your room, and he walks in with no shirt, and just his jeans. His wet curly hair stuck to his chest. You’re sitting upright, sketching in what looks like your mother's sketch pad.

He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing down at the book. “You’re sketching?”

You look up at him and smile; you were just doodling. Some wildflowers, eye shapes, your hands. You didn’t feel ready to paint yet, and you forgot how much you loved to sketch. You couldn’t force yourself to be happy, but you could try to be a bit more human.

You feel his eyes on you and look up again. He’s smiling that sweet smile, his dimples large. He still looked a little high, but he was less sweaty, less jumpy. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to feel once it was completely out of his system. Would it hurt? He wondered. But he realized he didn’t care if it did, he deserved to feel that pain.

You close the sketch pad and put it on your nightstand, you scoot closer to him, you drape your legs on either side of him while he kneeled. His hand reaches up to caress your face, your lips, and you pull his mouth towards yours in a sweet kiss. You lay back, taking him with you, he cups your face, his other hand going to your leg to hook around his waist, the kiss deepening. His lips travel to your throat, leaving a soft trail of kisses there and to the center of your chest. You sigh lovingly at his touch, and he lifts up your shirt, leaving soft kisses on your tummy, around your navel and ribs. He feels you shudder at his touch, and he pulls you up, peeling your shirt over your head. You were naked underneath, and he kisses you again. The tips of his fingers glide up your arm, leaving goosebumps to prickle on your skin. You grip his forearm, and gently move your fingers up and down as he kisses your neck, slowly moving down, leaving soft kisses around your breasts, and taking your nipple into his mouth, gently sucking. Your back arches and you moan; he goes to your other breast, gently kissing and sucking. His hand travels down your belly while he teases your nipples, and he snaps the button of your jeans. He meets your lips passionately again, grunting softly as his hand slides down over your sex and fingers your clit generously. You arch your hips, and he pulls off your jeans and underwear. He hovers above you after taking off his own jeans and rubs your face. He leans down to kiss you, his lips soft. You let out a moan and he grunts when you feel him push himself inside you, your back arches at the feeling, a loving sigh escaping your lips. His mouth stays hovered above yours as he thrusts, and you look into his eyes. His fingertips dig gently into your thighs and a throaty moan escapes his lips. He caresses your face, kissing your lips softly, burying his face in your chest, licking around your nipple again. You grip his shoulders, moaning loud, the sensation of his gentleness, the grinding of his hips, was enough to get you to scream. Your orgasm was building in your lower belly, but you didn’t want this feeling to end. You held onto it, and flipped him onto his back, riding him gently, your palms on his chest. Your clit rubs against his pelvis, and your head falls back in a whimper. He holds your hips, his head arching back against the pillow. He sits up, holding him to you in the butterfly position, his arms tightly around your middle, his lips against your breast. The tingles in your belly grow, and you clench around him, your head falls back as you cry out in pleasure, your orgasm causing every part of your body to tremble, and tears spring to your eyes. He groans against you as he orgasms soon after you, he holds you to him, still catching up on your breathing and you look into his eyes. His hand caresses your cheek, and he kisses you gently. You push yourself off him so you’re sitting more in his lap, pressing your forehead against his and he hugs your waist.

Staring into his big brown eyes, you give him a soft smile, gently petting his face. “From now on, we need to be honest with each other. No more secrets.”

He shakes his head, smiling at you. “No more secrets.”

“I’m not okay, Eddie.” You tell him quietly, your eyes filling up with tears, he tightens his hold. “And I won’t be for a long time. When she died…I think, I think a part of me did too. That’s where that pain is.” You press your hand over your heart, and he gently kisses the center of your chest. “They say there’s stages of this grief, but I think they’re full of shit. I think you go through each stage, over and over and over again. It’s constant, like a running stream. And I know you’re not okay, either. You were right when you said that I’m not the only one who lost her—”

“Sweetheart, that was—”

“Let me finish.” You smile at him, kissing his nose and he stares into your eyes. “I’m not the only one that lost her. Yeah, I lost the bond that we formed as soon as I was born, I lost the late-night talks and getting my tears wiped away because she was my mother. You lost someone very special to you, someone who showed you love and comfort and a bond that can be so rare to find. I will never take that away from you. Your grief is your grief, not mine. But we can heal together. It's not gonna be easy, it’s gonna be really fucking hard but I plan on doing this with you for the rest of my life. I plan on feeling every single emotion that God or whoever the fuck throws at me, at us. I plan on you being by my side until we’re old, watching our grandchildren grow up, yelling at each other on how to figure out technology because let’s face it, this world is going to be run by machines soon. You are the best thing, the craziest thing, that has ever happened to me, and I’m gonna hold onto that until I can’t anymore.”

His eyes are filled with tears, and he smiles large, kissing you passionately. You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek before getting off his lap. He lights up a cigarette, inhaling it deeply and stretches. He looks at you with his arm draped over his shoulder, just watching you. He stands up to get dressed but you stop him.

“Wait.” You tell him, grabbing your sketch book. “Stay like that."

"What? Why?” He laughs.

“Shut up, don’t move.”

He smiles at you and stays still, and you begin to sketch out his form. Eddie suddenly felt shy as he hears your pencil hit the paper, this was such an intimate moment, and he didn’t want to mess it up. You concentrated so hard on what you were doing, and he felt his heart skip a few beats as he watches you, both nude, just the sounds of the creativity coming out of your brain.

You smiled when you were finished, and Eddie was able to move his limbs, feeling stiff all over. You wipe off the pencil dust and hand it to him. He smiles large, you had captured him so beautifully and he realizes it was true, you saw him for who he truly was.

Just Eddie.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Autumn had come out of nowhere, and you wrap your sweater tighter around you as another wave of nausea hits you. You had left work early; it seemed like every twenty minutes you were running to the bathroom to puke your guts out. You tried to think about what you had eaten the night before; was it the chicken? Was it the leftover meatloaf you had made for your father’s birthday? Eddie had been very cryptic lately, and it was starting to piss you off. He would ask you questions about what color paint you’d use to paint a kitchen, hardwood or carpet; you would overhear him talking to your father about stuff that had to do with finances, and your father had a glint in his eyes, and you tried to think of anything that could possibly make sense. The nausea hits you again and you run to the bathroom and vomit hard. You swore there was nothing left in your system to vomit but your body had other plans. You lean against the tub, the coolness of the porcelain an odd comfort against your skin.

Your eyes land on an unopened box of tampons, and a sudden thought occurred to you. Closing your eyes, you think back to when you last had your period; trying to figure out the math was like trying to figure out a formula with Einstein. Your eyes snap open; it had been over a month since your last period.

A month.

Nausea hits you again and you grip the porcelain, preparing for the worst but nothing comes. “There’s no way.” You say to yourself and lift yourself up on shaky legs.

Grabbing your keys, you rush out the door to your car, and go into a local pharmacy. You take the first test you see, and don’t make eye contact with the cashier as she rings you up. When you arrived home, you were grateful Eddie was still at work, and your father was finishing up a construction job in Ohio. You rip open the test, reading the directions.

“Pee on it? How the fuck…” Your eyes squint as you look at the small diagram drawing of how to get coat the test in urine. Groaning, you pull down your pants, and do your business, yelling comedically as you get urine all over your hand trying to match the test up with the stream. The directions said you had to wait three minutes for the results, and you sit on the toilet lid, your leg bopping up and down anxiously as you wait.

Once the three minutes was up, you don’t look right away. Your arm reaches the sink counter, and you take it, looking down at the tiny window. There were two lines, and you suddenly forgot what that meant. You scramble to dig the directions out of the trash, scanning the black ink until you reach the result section.

One line meant it was negative.

Two lines meant…

Your hands shake as you stare at the test in your hand, like it was a rare piece of art, and you were trying desperately to see if the picture would move.

No matter how you look at it, the result is gonna stay the same.

A smile creeps up on your lips, tears well in your eyes and you cover your mouth with your hand.

Something happens to you just now; it felt like the Earth shifted right at your feet. Before there was a constant tilt for so many months, now suddenly it was upright. Everything seemed brighter, you felt a dull ache in your chest, but it wasn’t pain, no, it was something different.

Something warm.

There was a human being growing inside you. Yours and Eddie’s baby. Your father’s grandchild, your mother’s grandchild. Yours. A being that had a part of you and a part of the man you loved. Your best friend, your lover, your confidant.

You were going to be parents.

You were going to be a mother.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fem!reader

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annymation · 6 months

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The au about the transformation of Aster into a black hole sounds like a horror au now I'm going to have nightmares((( Write something else about the Star!Asha and the Human!Aster, please, I really like this au as well as the Kingdom of Wishes

Well thank you! I've always wanted to write darker stuff heheheh

But yeah I do owe you all some wholesome scenes don't I? So let's explore the Role Swaps Au a lil bit!

So how about we go with the scene Star!Asha and Human!Aster are at Aster's old home and they start getting to know each other better? Well, Aster isn't an artist in this AU, he's a musician, so unlike the original rewrite, Star!Asha wouldn't get in a sketch book, she'd get in a music sheet.

Here's how that'd play out:

Aster and Asha were now inside Aster's old home, it was quite tidy up despite being abandoned for years. Aster was humming to himself the song Asha sang earlier, "I'm A Star" while trying to play it on his grandfather's mandolin

"Shouldn't you be going to sleep?" Asked the star girl while exploring each and every thing inside the house, she had a radiant smile that only grew bigger and bigger with every new thing she found "I've seen that humans do that a lot at night, must be important"

"How can I possibly sleep? After I just wished upon a star and somehow that brought down a magical princess from the sky?" They asked, still astounded that this is all really happening and it's not just a dream

"Hihihi I'm not a princess silly, I just chose to look like one cause... Well, you seemed like you could use some inspiration to figure out what to do, and princesses often inspire people in fairytales" She explained while floating above Aster

"I guess so, but what does that make me though? Your knight or something? Heheheh" He said more so jokingly, referring to how he'll have to hide her and keep her safe from the royals

"I don't see why not, you're already handsome like one after all" Asha smiled innocently, stating that as if it was simply something obvious

Aster's eyes widened and his cheeks turned bright red. Did the most beautiful and literally etherial girl he has ever seen really think they were "handsome"???... Nah, that's probably how she treats anyone, Aster is just an average guy.

He stutters trying to think of something to change the subject, still blushing as red as a tomato "Hah-a umm Thanks??? UH- You- you sang just like a-a princess too heh heh" Aster feels himself growing even redder

"Awwn thanks!" Asha didn't seem to notice how flustered he was at all "I'm sure you have a beautiful singing voice too! Can you play for me? Pleeeeeaaaseee" the star adorably asked, her eyes sparkled with what seemed to be little stars twinkling inside her pupils

"... Maybe later, I get rather shy when playing in front of people I've just met" He said, looking at his grandfather's mandolin with downcast eyes

"Oh... That's alright!" Asha was sad for a second but her smile quickly returned as she got an idea "I can play your songs instead!"

And with that, Asha jumped inside Aster's note book, where he composes and writes his music sheets. She turns herself into a black and white drawing, dancing through the pages, stepping on each note, magically making music come from the book. Aster gazes in awe and laughs as she uses the notes to make funny sounds and melodies while the two continue chatting through the night.

........

And that's it, hope you liked this little piece of Star! Asha and Human! Aster!

#wish reimagined #wish rewrite #kingdom of wishes #ask #Kingdom of wishes AU

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hannahssimblr · 8 months

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note: you don't need to know how to pronounce Garda Síochána - just know it's what we call our police force in Ireland. Any mention of garda/guards is in reference to the cops. Jude is saying the Síochána bit (the full name) to be funny and emphasise the fact that they are entirely unarmed. If you do want to know how to pronounce it then here is someone saying it right.

We are greeted at the doctor’s waiting room by two familiar faces. Shane and Joe look up when we enter, and the biggest, dopiest smile I’ve ever seen spreads over Joe’s face. “What’s up guys! You got ticks too?”

“Um, yeah.”

He fist bumps me, then Jen, “Hell yeah! Tick friends. Four thicks with ticks. We should get that tattooed.”

“Good idea,” I slump into a creaky seat and immediately start fidgeting with a ballpoint pen on the table. While the others chat to one another I begin to draw random shapes onto the corner of a magazine.

“So we lose four tents,” Shane is saying, “And we all get ticks. Would ye say that’s the biggest failure of all time?”

“We can go back and get the tents though, lad,” Joe says, “Sure I can remember where we were and all.”

“They’re in the dump by now for sure,” Jen says, “So annoying because I actually really liked that tent, and the sleeping bags too. Like, we lost a bloody fortune worth of stuff that we could have used to go to a music festival or something.”

A fat pigeon lands on the windowsill and I quickly sketch it out, not realistically, but a stupid cartoon version who is trying to swallow an entire loaf of white sliced pan in one gulp. I cock my head. It’s actually a bit grotesque. Maybe I should scribble it out.

“Man, I’m just glad that Jude made it out of there alive,” Joe says, “We didn’t know if you were going to make it.”

“What, like, do you think I was going to get shot to death by the Garda Síochána?”

“No, I dunno, like.”

“Thanks for abandoning me, by the way.”

“Oh stop it Jude,” Jen punches my arm, which throws my line off, “He’s in a huff because we saved ourselves instead of coming to find him, but anyone would have done the same.”

“Well you were fairly busy!” Joe protests, “Off with Clóda.” I’m not looking at him, but I can practically hear the exotic wiggle of his eyebrows, “C’mere, man, did you ride her?”

I glance quickly at Shane who is staring at the floor, “Nah, I didn’t.”

“What? You had the chance and you didn’t take it? You’re crazy, Jude. If that’d been me I’d have-”

I zone out as Joe, the chronic virgin, starts describing what he would have done and not done, while dimly aware that Jen is giving out to him for being disrespectful. The pigeon drawing is coming along. Maybe I’ll make this guy into a new character and put him in different scenarios. I draw a newer version of him on the next page with eyes looking in two different directions and I chuckle to myself at how stupid it looks.

“That’s a cool drawing,” Jen murmurs, peering over my shoulder, “you should bring it home and glue it into your sketchbook.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“-Oh yeah, and that reminds me,” Joe goes on, moving fluidly from his thoughts about Clóda to the next topic without so much as a pause for breath. He’s like a tap that never stops dripping. “I’ve been thinking of getting a tattoo, like an actual tattoo, you know I was joking about the Thicks with Ticks thing before, but now that I’m sixteen I’ve been like, maybe I should get one if my ma or da lets me, and like, I was thinking that Jude is really good at art and all, so it’d be cool if I got him to draw something for me that I could get tattooed on me, you know?”

I sit up wielding my biro, “Where, man?”

“Huh?”

“Where’d you want your tattoo? I’ll do a sketch for you now.”

“Oh cool, yeah, like maybe my neck, like here?” He runs a finger from his ear to his shoulder, “Like something cool, a dragon or whatever, breathing fire, and maybe with its tail curling around like that.”

“A dragon, yeah?” I lean across Jen and push his head to the side to stretch out the skin and I start drawing.

He glances at Jen after several minutes, “How’s it look?”

She keeps a straight face, “Yeah, unreal. It’s a dragon alright.”

I finish it off with a few flourishes and then Joe shows it off to Shane, “Well?”

Shane splutters.

“Is it cool?”

“C’mere give me a proper look,” he turns him all the way around and stares intently at the drawing. “Man, that is the most detailed penis I’ve ever seen.”

Jen and I cling to one another cackling.

“Even the spurts of cum, fuck sake, you’re sick,” Shane starts shaking with laughter too while Joe panics and tries to wipe it away with his hand. “Aw, are you serious? Is it just a dick?”

Shane looks again and shrieks “The veins!”

“No, you’re going to have me go into the doctor with a cumming dick on my neck?”

“You don’t like it?” I pretend to be offended and clutch my heart, “That wounds me, really.”

Jen joins in, “Yeah, he worked hard on it, how could you be so cold?”

The doctor comes to the door, “Joseph Roche?”

He stands up and gives us all the most aggressive middle fingers he can muster. “Fuckers,” he says, and follows the doctor out while we all collapse in fits of hysterical laughter.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy #someone explain to me why teenage boys (and actually adult men too) are obsessed with drawing dicks on everything #i agree it's hilarious #but please ya'll are so weird #tw:sex mention

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kouhsuu · 9 months

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EMO TREAT AU MASTERPOST

SPOILERS FOR ALTERNATE ENDING

Essentially... What if Treat was EMO?

Specifically, what if she had stayed with her pack instead of leaving?

That's pretty much what this AU is about! Me and some friends came up with it for fun and it just kept growing lol

It takes a couple of liberties to make some things work though so it can be a bit silly!! xP

How it goes

Rather than Tundra, Timber is the current pack leader and they are both much older. Treat's parents failed to seperate from their pack, Glaze, and Treat suffered the repercussions by Timber using her as an example to her parents.

Treat eventually grows up under Timber, as he teaches her his way of acquiring food for their pack, good food. She struggles, but is forced to swallow it down for the sake of the pack. She distances herself from most everyone, aside from Timber as he is her mentor, and only really bothers with others out of necessity. Lacking empathy and becoming emotionally stunted due to her childhood makes her a near 180 to regular Treat.

Here's how she looks like!!

The way I see it, she dyes her hair with charcoal from fires to represent her deep turmoil!!!! or something like that, I can't think of a reason why outside of "my heart is a deep and vast void"

How are other characters/the world affected?

Starting from the pack members...

Cotton & Candy: There's not much to say, but after getting caught trying to leave the pack they haven't had much to do with everyone. Treat only really comes over to sleep and avoids them, because she somewhat blames them for what happened to her.

Timber: Pack leader and mentor of Treat. He didn't want to have to hurt Treat, but her parents took it too far trying not only to take their daughter with her, but Powder & Fennel too. He took her under his wing so she wouldn't get influenced by her parents anymore and decided to take the opportunity to teach her to be the next generation pack leader... Though no one but his mother knows that yet.

Fennel: She still has a giant crush on Treat, and is the only one that actively goes out of her way to hang out with her! Treat thinks she's a nuisance, but slowly entertains Fennel as she grows curious as to why she keeps trying to get close to her.

Other characters such as Powder and Tundra aren't really all that developed, so feel free to think up something for them!!!

The pack members don't just end there either...

I made up some characters for the AU aswell!! woohoo!!!!

They're in a small little fic I made on Mochi meeting Treat in this AU, but I want to do more with them!! The descriptions will be short though since there's not much with them yet.

Cocoa: The oldest, and the only one in his human form. He's playful, carefree, loves poking fun whenever he can.

Mallow: The middle child. His fur is dark gray and he's the strongest out of the three. He's boisterous, a bit stubborn, and competitive.

Creme: The youngest child. Her fur is white and is sarcastic, confident, a bit self-absorbed. She's also very prissy which annoys her older brothers.

Stuff they all have in common are also sharing admiration for Treat, despite always getting caught causing trouble by her, and the three of them are very close knit.

Characters outside the pack

Moxie: Unlike in the canon, she has lost her confidence due to being forced back to be with her mother in ginseng, following the loss of the Foxy Den. She eventually ran away from her and now hopes to learn how to survive in the wilderness by stalking the wolves around, including Treat.

here's a little concept sketch of her!!

she's pretty dinged up :(

Mochi: Due to Treat never having left Glaze, she never arrived in Frosting to live in the cabin and save Mochi from Moxie. She ends up fearing predators a bit more due to this, and is usually escorted by Juju outside. However, she still wishes to slowly start being more independent again. Overall though, there isn't much changed with her! (including her design)

Trick: Treat's parents never got to form the other pack near their Master's house because they never got to leave. Due to being unable to find any wolf pack settlement nearby, their Master reluctantly brought Trick together into hiding with him. Even if it would cause problems along the way, he didn't want them out fending for themselves. Trick would slowly start the learn the truth behind their Master's identity.

Will Treat, Mochi, and Moxie still get together?

Yes!!!!!!! However, with the way it's going, Fennel will be included too!! I have it somewhat outlined how I want it to go, but you'll have to read my friend's fic on it!!!

Speaking of fics...

Here are ALL the current fics and side stories so far!!

MAIN FIC (collab between me and @blobsicle): LINK

Short Stories:

(these are by me :3)

Fennel x Treat

Treat and Mochi Meeting

HOW TO TAG THE AU

Use either '#Shifted Story' or just '#Emo Treat AU'!!!

that's all for the AU!!! I hope you guys like it so far :3>!! Feel free to add onto any of this, or add a spin!! i'd love to see any of it so feel free to tag me!!

I'll be scheduling some posts with art i've made :)

#lonely wolf treat #lwt #Shifted Story #Emo Treat AU

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sleptwithinthesun · 2 months

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a personal (and very extremely late) fill for the🤞and 🥰 prompts on the spring prompts list, written for t/im d/rake from d/c c/omics. yes, i'm aware it's summer. however, i started this fic over two years ago and it needs to be done.

2K words, next part of the t/imber college au. hope you like it!!

"Look at me for a second?" Bernard asks, tapping the eraser end of his pencil against his notebook a couple of times, just to ensure that he has Tim's attention. It lands just to the right of his half-finished sketch of his roommate, who's typing a lab report up on his laptop on the other side of the library table.

Tim complies, glancing up and making brief eye contact to show Bernard the slowly-emerging freckles scattered over his cheeks and the ever-present, bruise-like bags under his eyes. They've been getting worse lately, probably due to the arrival of the spring season and its various allergens, even though Tim started taking Benadryl towards the beginning of March. They're now a week into April, with allergy season in full swing.

Bernard's gaze sweeps over Tim's face, and then he squints down at his drawing. After a moment of deliberation, he goes back over Tim's lash line and carefully shades a touch lower and darker than he was previously. "Thanks."

"No problem," Tim replies, coughing quietly into a fist a second later. It sounds chesty, same as it has been for the past few weeks, and Tim just keeps going, like someone's scratching at his lungs. Which, to be fair, is probably how he feels about the whole thing. He's been getting worse at night recently, waking both himself and Bernard up at early hours in the morning with coughing fits.

There's not much either of them can do about it, though, and Bernard's not been sleeping well, anyway. Not to any fault of Tim; he's just been… wondering. About some things. Regarding Tim, sure, but not because of him. Nevertheless, he's been staying up with him until his roommate manages to fall back asleep congested snores emanating from his side of the dorm.

Not for the first time since they'd arrived at the library, Tim suddenly drops his chin towards his chest, eyes pinching shut tightly before his shoulders give a minuscule jerk forwards. He barely manages a shallow inhale before the motion repeats twice more, and then blinks a few times, sniffling quietly into his sweatshirt sleeve. Also not for the first time, Bernard murmurs, "Bless you."

"Ugh, sorry, I don't think I'm dohh—" He cuts himself off with another silent double, and then a third pair for good measure. "Oh, fuck me," Tim mutters, a bit breathless.

"Christ, bless you times... how many even was that, seven total? They're so quiet; it's hard to tell." Tim nods to confirm the number, his eyes bleary from sneezing as he rubs a knuckle against the side of his nose to quell the remaining itch instead of responding verbally. "Bless you times seven. Why do you sneeze like that, anyway?"

Tim blinks at him, clearly confused. "Like what?"

"Like… you're completely stifling to the point where they're silent." Bernard fumbles to explain, trying to find the right words without sounding insane. "I don't know anyone who can do that without using their hands or something. It's kind of... uh, impressive, to be honest, but can I ask, why do you sneeze that way? Is there a reason, or is it just...?"

"I don't know," Tim says, then shrugs. "I never really thought about it. It's polite, I guess, to make them quieter. Doesn't bother anyone else."

And Bernard-of-several-months-ago would have simply been content to have even gotten an answer out of Tim in the first place, would have accepted his word without a second thought. But Bernard-of-now can see the little flicker in Tim's eye, the one that means he's lying to him, which makes no sense, because what does Tim have to lie about?

It's a sneeze. There's no backstory to it, as far as Bernard is aware of. It's simple, it's thoughtless, it's inherent. Sure, he knows that people can hold back their sneezes if needed, but at it's base, it's a reaction, and one that's hard to control. The level to which Tim can manipulate his own, though, speaks to something far more complicated than Bernard can even begin to form connotations to.

For now, he has to let it go. Everything about Tim is a mystery, and the code to deciphering him is written between the lines of Dick's offering of his and Jason's phone numbers. So, unless Bernard texts one of them to ask why Tim sneezes weirdly, which is quite possibly the most bizarre question he could even raise, he's on his own.

Don't let it be said that Bernard Dowd doesn't love a challenge.

Over the remainder of the week, Bernard keeps an eye on Tim as if he's a sentry assigned to stand guard over him. He does feel weird about it—almost stalkerish, which, honestly and a bit embarrassingly, isn't exactly new to him—but it's not like Bernard's trying to learn anything he didn't already know about Tim's personal life. He lives in the same room as Tim, for crying out loud. Objectively, he's not doing anything wrong. At least, that's how Bernard justifies it to himself.

He's aware that he's being all Bernard about it, looking too deeply into it when, in reality, it's probably nothing more than Tim preferring not to draw attention to himself. At the same time, Bernard can't help but feel as if there's something more to it. After all, Tim decided to hide the fact that he was missing a whole-ass organ for a semester; he truly wouldn't put it past Tim to somehow have a buried trauma about sneezing. It would only make sense for him.

To be perfectly honest, though, Tim is boring.

Bernard didn't notice it in their fall semester, when Tim was being avoidant for the most part and didn't trust Bernard enough to reveal anything about his personal life. Apparently, he wasn't missing out. Tim studies more than anything, and even when he's not studying, he's doing homework or reading or something equally uninteresting. It makes his observation of his roommate very dry.

Until the moment where he invites Tim to sit outside.

They're moving through the quad together, Tim having just attended his linguistics class and heading into a free period while Bernard's done with classes for the day. The April weather is gorgeous, with a nice breeze cutting through the heat of the day. It's so nice, in fact, that Bernard asks—

"Want to stay outside for a bit?"

Tim's steps pause for a moment, hesitating. "Why?"

Bernard can barely stop himself from staring in shock at him. Sure, he grew up in the city, but he spent every moment that he could in the park. "it's... nice?" he ventures. "Plus, you could use more sun."

"First, rude. Second, if you insist." Tim sighs, glancing around for a place to sit. "As long as we're not directly in the sunlight."

Bernard rolls his eyes. "Sure, whatever. Vampire."

Tim scoffs at him, following Bernard as they move to take a seat in the shade underneath a tree. He only seems vaguely annoyed, meaning that he does actually care, at least a little bit. They're not at the point yet where Tim's comfortable being jokingly annoyed or mad with Bernard, since Bernard did it to Tim once and ended up sending Tim into a spiral for the next day over whether he was actually upset.

So. His annoyance here is at least vaguely interesting.

"hn'x! ngt! hnk'tt!"

"Bless you," Bernard murmurs. Tim shakes his head and immediately goes to sneeze again, sitting up with his head tipped back slightly, eyes half-shut, mouth partly open as his breath hitches quietly.

"hh...hi'h? hHhh—" He's trying to hold it back and is failing miserably. "—hk't! hxxt! hn'gt! h'hHn'gt-sh!"

"Bless you."

"Why'd you want to be out here?" Tim asks, voice nasal. His head immediately bobs down toward his chest again, nose pressed into the crook between his thumb and pointer finger to at least give himself a semblance of modesty. This set is even more numerous than the first, each sneeze coming in rapid succession.

Bernard sits up straighter in alarm. "Uh... exactly how allergic are you to pollen?"

Tim's response is another rapid set of sneezes.

"You need to get better at putting your foot down," exclaims Bernard, grabbing Tim by his free wrist and hauling him upward as Tim sneezes again and again, each perfectly stifled and barely making any sound. The only reason, Bernard reflects, that he can hear them is because Tim's sneezing too much to fully have control.

"You're—gxt'sh!—telling me," Tim gasps out. Mockingly, he attempts to add, "You could use more su'h'nxt! hxt'ch!"

"Okay, Sneezy, let's get back to the very climate-controlled indoors," says Bernard, hastily dragging him toward the building.

Tim's lying down on his bed when Bernard walks into their dorm, three days after the incident, absently staring up at the ceiling. There's nothing taped up there—Bernard checked.

"You okay?"

"Fine," replies Tim. "Just... thinking."

Bernard sets his backpack down next to his bed, placing the binder in his hands down on top of his comforter to ensure he doesn't forget about the homework in it. "Anything in particular?"

Tim shrugs, which is his way of saying Yes, but I don't want to talk about it. Bernard had given up on trying to interpret all of Tim's nonverbal signals on his own and reached out to Dick the day after Tim's allergy attack; Dick had informed him that reading Tim was like learning a new language. He wasn't very communicative at best, even with members of his own family, and it took Dick years to figure everything out. Jason is still struggling, apparently, which Dick attributes to Jason being in college while Tim was adjusting to living with the Waynes. He's gradually been passing tips onto Bernard, trying to make his living experience a tad easier.

Uncertainly, he walks over to Tim's side of the room, stopping just short of sitting on the bed with his roommate. Looming over him feels like an equally terrible option, and Bernard just stands there for an awkward moment.

"This is a little creepy."

"You're one to talk," Bernard says before having the chance to properly filter himself. He's trying to get Tim to open up, here.

Tim huffs out a laugh, then sniffles quietly. "Just sit down."

Bernard does. Neither of them say anything for a long minute, with the silence frequently broken by Tim's soft sniffles as he continues fighting off the pollen in the air.

"You know you can sneeze, right?" he blurts out. Tim doesn't blink. "Like, around me. I don't mind, I promise."

When Tim doesn't respond, Bernard keeps rambling. "It's just that, every single time I've seen you sneeze you're stifling. No matter what. Even if you're alone in the room, you don't make any noise, and, like, it's worrying me. It's not, um, normal. Not that you're not normal, obviously, but—"

"Bernard."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Bernard rolls his head to look at Tim. His roommate is still looking at the ceiling instead of at him, but he's talking.

"I was..." He pauses, starts over. "My parents very much believed in the adage of children being seen and not heard. To them, my silence wasn't an expectation, it was a strict necessity for me."

"Tim..."

"For whatever reason, they included normal bodily functions in that." Tim scoffs, but it's devoid of any feeling, as if he's making the noise only because he's expected to show disapproval toward his parents. "Coughing, sneezing, anything like that was taboo. So, I learned to keep quiet."

"You know that's not okay, right?"

"I've heard that nearly a thousand times from Dick and Jason." Now, he turns to face Bernard. "I'm aware."

Bernard sighs. "Do you believe it?"

A moment of silence. Three different emotions pass over Tim's face, too quickly for Bernard to parse through them all, but something sad is certainly there. "I'm working on that," he says eventually.

"That's good," replies Bernard, and they fall back into silence before Tim sneezes adorably, much like a baby kitten.

"hk'sh'iew!"

"Oh my God."

"Shut up!"

#d/c snzfic #snzfic #d/c #t/im d/rake #b/ernard d/owd #t/imber college au #swts fic

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