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totalswag · 4 months

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nonsense — DREW STARKEY

authors note i've wanted to write a singer!reader drew fic for the longest time. i've read some singer!reader fics lately and it gave me some inspiration to write my own. i hope you guys enjoy reading. this was also requested by an anon not long ago, so if you’re reading this enjoy 🩵. the song choice is nonsense and just think to when sabrina is performing this song at coachella.

summary performing at coachella for the first time with friends and your lovely boyfriend supporting you in the crowd.

warnings none!

Coachella.

This is your first Coachella where you are performing. You will be playing live in front of millions of people. This is the last weekend for the festival.

Tens of thousands of people travel from all over the world to attend Coachella. The festival features sculptures, art installations, and other open events in addition to music.

When your manager called you about being invited to perform you couldn't believe your ears. Now, here you are about to step on stage.

Standing in a circle backstage with your crew, discussing everything you've prepared for over the last few days and having fun out there. This is what you always do before a show.

Second weekend of the festival.

Walking on stage seems like a surreal experience for you. Looking around, you can sense the intensity of the enormous crowd in front of you.

The weather was lovely, with the sun still shining and the breeze brushing over your skin.

"Hello Coachella, my name is Y/F/N, what's yours?" You smile into the microphone while waving away.

You began by introducing the crowd to yourself, your backup dancers, your music, if everyone is having a great time, etc.

Interacting with your fans is one of your favorite parts of singing on stage. You value your interactions with them since you like conversing. When you read comments on your shows, they usually mention how fascinating you are.

After singing a few songs from the set list, you took a little breather and spoke to the crowd saying a joke, making them laugh.

You begin the next song by sipping from an old-fashioned soda bottle while seated in a chair. As you take a seat, you glimpse your boyfriend, Drew, along with a couple of your friends and security.

You two make eye contact. Butterflies fill your stomach. You offer him a small wave, and he smiles and turns around, presumably blushing.

Fans up close captured the brief interaction with their phones out. We'll see it on social media later today.

Drew and you began dating in the midst of season three of Outer Banks. The first outing was Pougelandia, and fans began to speculate about your relationship because it came out of nowhere.

To be honest, Madelyn Cline and you were close friends before she began filming season one of Outer Banks. She’s the one who introduced you to Drew.

"The last song I'll be playing for you guys is nonsense, so if you know the lyrics, sing along," you cheer, lifting your free hand in the air, moving it around with excitement.

"Is it possible we get my amazing dancers out here," you turn around, pretending you have no idea where they went, "guys come out here, we could perform some sort of choreography, you know" as you gaze at your dance crew coming out the set.

Nonsense is about Drew.

It is one of your favorite songs that you have written. When you first released it, many were unsure who it was about until photos of Drew and you emerged.

Think I only want one number in phone

I might change your contact to "don't leave me alone"

You said you like my eyes and you like to make 'em role

Treat me like a queen, now you got me feelin' thrown, oh

You dance with your dancing crew, who are behind you and moving in sync. The choreography is muscle memory for you guys because you've been performing this song for a few years now.

But I can't help myself when you get close to me

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like "bleh bleh bleh"

I don't want no one else (no no) baby, I'm into deep

Here's a little song I wrote (a song I wrote) its about you and me

When you sing the last line of the pre-chorus, you gesture to Drew in the audience, who moves his head side to side while listening to you sing and blushes when you point to him. You giggle into the microphone.

Fans started cheering louder as they watched you motioning to your lover in the audience.

You continue to move around stage all throughout the song.

You go around the center of the stage as your backup dancers finish their final few dances. One of your backup dancers grabs a chair for you to sit in.

At the end of nonsense you always come up with rhymes. Started doing this after the first performance and can't stop doing it.

Told him he makes me weak to my knees

Everything about him just so dreamy

By the way he's name Drew Starkey

When you say your boyfriend's name, the crowd cheers. You saw his response as he mouthed the words "I love you," dropped his jaw, and put his hands over his heart.

"Coachella, you've been amazing to me these past two weekends. Thank you so much. Can we please give a huge around of applause for our amazing dancers, come on out guys!" Excitement in your voice when you call your dance crew out on stage.

Once you guys made it off stage, you guys began cheering with a bunch of energy. Everyone gave each other hugs.

"Water is calling my name right now" you groan with urgency.

Approaching your manager, holding a cold water bottle for you- thanking her a few times as you open the bottle. You were about jugging down the water when you heard Drew's voice approaching.

"Hi baby," you squeal, dragging the y in baby, and rush into Drew's arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Being in his arms sends relief in your body.

He smells so good.

He chuckles, "You did so well out there, so proud of you," and delicately places you on your feet.

"Thank you," blushing to the point where your cheeks were red. "Did you enjoy the outro of nonsense?" You inquire with curiosity, despite the fact that you already know his response.

He softly grins that makes your heart flutter, "Mhm yeah I did" kissing the top of your head, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"Why don't we get something to eat?" "How's that sound, baby?" Drew asks, his arm still around you.

Your ears and eyes light up from his request, “obviously yes.”

Before leaving you heard the voices of friends turning the corner. The rest of your friends, as well as Drew's cast members who are also your friends, returned to stage, thrilled to see you.

It was so good to see them.

Drew and you returned to the van to change, drove to the Airbnb to relax before returning to watch other artists perform after the sun had set with your friends.

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geotjwrs · 4 months

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boyfriend (18+)

Pairings ; Madison Beer x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; smut

The summer night was warm, and the city skyline glittered like a thousand tiny stars against the deep blue sky. The rooftop party was in full swing, with music pulsing through the air and people dancing under the twinkling fairy lights. Y/N stood near the edge of the roof, chatting with Madelyn Cline, a friend he had just met at the party. She was charming and engaging, and he found himself laughing at her witty comments.

Across the rooftop, Madison Beer was engaged in a conversation with Nick Austin. They were laughing and sharing stories, their chemistry palpable to anyone who observed them. Madison's eyes, however, kept darting towards Y/N, who was too engrossed in his conversation with Madelyn to notice.

Y/N's heart wasn't entirely in the conversation. As much as he enjoyed Madelyn's company, his mind kept wandering back to Madison. They had always had a special connection, a bond that went beyond mere friendship. Their playful banter and mutual teasing were a constant source of amusement for their friends, who often joked about the "will-they-won't-they" tension between them.

Tonight, the tension was different. Seeing Madison laugh with Nick, Y/N felt a pang of jealousy, a feeling that intensified each time Madison glanced over at him. He noticed the way Nick leaned in closer to her, how Madison playfully swatted his arm, and it made his chest tighten.

Madison felt the same way. She watched Y/N and Madelyn with a growing sense of unease. Every time Y/N laughed at something Madelyn said, Madison felt a twinge of jealousy. She hated the idea of someone else capturing his attention, even if it was just for a conversation.

As the night progressed, the intensity of the party escalated. The music grew louder, the lights brighter, and the atmosphere more electric. Y/N's jealousy reached a boiling point when he saw Nick whisper something into Madison's ear, making her giggle and blush. Without thinking, he turned to Madelyn and, in a moment of impulsive jealousy, kissed her.

Madelyn, taken by surprise, kissed him back, but the moment was fleeting. Y/N immediately regretted it, his eyes darting back to Madison. He saw the hurt and anger flash across her face, even from a distance. She excused herself from Nick and made her way through the crowd, heading towards the exit.

Y/N's heart pounded as he pushed through the throngs of people, desperate to catch up with her. He finally found her near the stairwell, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Maddie, wait!" he called out, his voice breaking with emotion.

Madison turned to face him, her eyes blazing. "What the hell, Y/N? You kissed her. Right in front of me."

Y/N ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched on his face. "I know, and I'm sorry. I was jealous. Seeing you with Nick drove me crazy. I couldn't stand the thought of losing you to someone else."

Madison crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. "Do you have any idea how it felt to see that? To watch you kiss someone else?"

Y/N took a step closer, his voice softening. "It felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest seeing you with Nick. I've been feeling this way for so long, but I was too scared to tell you."

Madison's expression softened slightly, but she still held her ground. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I was afraid," Y/N admitted. "Afraid of ruining what we have. But I can't keep these feelings bottled up anymore. I don't want to be just friends, Maddie. I want you. Only you."

Tears welled up in Madison's eyes as she took a deep breath. "I hate seeing you with other people, too. It kills me. I've been in love with you for so long, but I didn't want to risk losing you."

Y/N closed the distance between them, his hands gently cupping her face. "We've both been so stupid," he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear. "But we don't have to be anymore."

Madison looked into his eyes, her heart pounding. "Promise me you'll never do something like that again."

"I promise," Y/N said fervently. "You're the only one I want. The only one I've ever wanted."

Without another word, Madison closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his in a passionate, desperate kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words and hidden feelings they had kept buried for so long. The world seemed to melt away as they finally embraced their love, the intensity of their emotions making the moment electric.

The kiss deepened, their hands exploring each other's bodies with a hunger that had been suppressed for too long. Madison's fingers tangled in Y/N's hair, pulling him closer as their tongues danced together. Y/N's hands roamed down her back, pulling her hips against his as he pressed her against the wall.

The thrill of finally being able to touch her, to feel her warmth against him, was intoxicating. Madison moaned softly into his mouth, her body arching into his touch. Y/N's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that made her shiver with desire.

"Y/N," she whispered breathlessly, her hands gripping his shoulders. "We can't do this here."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with longing. "I don't care. I need you, Maddie. Right now."

Madison glanced around the empty stairwell, her heart racing. The thrill of being caught added to the excitement, and she nodded, pulling him into a nearby storage room. As soon as the door closed behind them, their lips crashed together again, their hands feverishly removing each other's clothes.

Y/N's hands slid under Madison's dress, his fingers tracing the soft skin of her thighs before hooking into her panties and sliding them down. Madison gasped as his fingers brushed against her, her hips bucking into his touch. She reached for his belt, unbuckling it with trembling hands, eager to feel him against her.

They moved together with a desperate urgency, their bodies pressing together in a frenzied dance of passion. Y/N lifted Madison onto a nearby table, her legs wrapping around his waist as he positioned himself at her entrance. He paused for a moment, their eyes locking as they shared a moment of pure, unfiltered desire.

"I love you, Maddie," he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion.

"I love you too, Y/N," she replied, her voice trembling with need.

With that, he pushed into her, both of them gasping at the sensation. They moved together in a rhythm that was both frantic and tender, their bodies perfectly in sync. The intensity of their connection, the raw emotion and physical pleasure, was overwhelming.

Madison clung to him, her nails digging into his back as he thrust into her with increasing urgency. She felt herself nearing the edge, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Y/N's lips found hers again, their kiss deepening as they both reached their climax, their cries of pleasure muffled against each other's mouths.

As they came down from their high, they held each other close, their breaths mingling as they tried to steady themselves. Y/N gently brushed a strand of hair from Madison's face, his eyes filled with love and tenderness.

"I guess we're not just friends anymore," Madison said with a small, satisfied smile.

"Nope," Y/N agreed, his eyes shining with happiness. "We're definitely not."

They dressed quickly, sharing tender kisses and whispered words of love. As they rejoined the party, hand in hand, they couldn't help but reflect on how their journey had led them to this moment.

Throughout the rest of the night, their friends noticed the change, smiling and congratulating them on finally figuring it out. Y/N and Madison danced under the stars, their hearts full of love and joy. They knew that their friendship had laid the foundation for something truly special, and they were excited to see where their newfound romance would take them.

As the party wound down and the guests started to leave, Y/N and Madison remained on the rooftop, wrapped in each other's arms. The city lights glowed softly in the background, and the night air was filled with the promise of new beginnings.

Madison looked up at Y/N, her heart swelling with affection. "I'm so glad we finally did this," she whispered.

"Me too," Y/N replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It feels like everything has fallen into place."

Madison smiled, her fingers tracing the outline of Y/N's jaw. "I want more of you," she said softly, her eyes filled with a mix of longing and love.

Y/N's eyes darkened with desire, his breath hitching at her words. "Let's get out of here," he suggested, his voice low and husky.

They quickly made their way down the stairs and out of the building, the night air cool against their flushed skin. Y/N hailed a cab, and they climbed in, unable to keep their hands off each other. Madison's fingers traced the lines of his face, her lips finding his in a series of slow, deep kisses.

The ride to Y/N's apartment felt like an eternity, the tension between them crackling with electricity. As soon as they reached Y/N's apartment, they practically stumbled through the door, their lips locked in a heated kiss. Y/N wasted no time in pushing Madison against the wall, his hands roaming over her body with a hunger that consumed him.

Madison moaned into his mouth, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. Y/N's lips left hers, trailing kisses along her jawline and down her neck, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't contain.

They stumbled into the bedroom, their movements fueled by raw desire and longing. Y/N gently laid Madison down on the bed, his eyes dark with desire as he hovered over her, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss.

Their clothes were discarded in a frenzy of urgency, forgotten in their need to be closer, to feel every inch of each other's skin. Y/N's hands explored every curve of Madison's body, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins.

Madison arched into his touch, her nails digging into his back as he kissed his way down her body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch, every kiss, was like an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure crashing over her again and again.

As Y/N entered her, they both gasped at the overwhelming sensation of being joined together, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. It was as if they were two halves of a whole, finally coming together to create something beautiful and pure.

Their lovemaking was slow and sensual, a symphony of sighs and whispers, of skin against skin and hearts beating as one. They lost themselves in each other, in the heat of their passion and the depth of their connection.

Their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace, Y/N and Madison moved together in a dance of desire, their connection deepening with each moment. As they lost themselves in the intensity of their lovemaking, their whispers of love and longing filled the air.

"I've wanted this for so long," Y/N breathed against Madison's skin, his voice thick with desire.

Madison's fingers trailed along his back, sending shivers down his spine. "Me too," she confessed, her voice a soft, breathless sigh. "I've dreamed about this moment with you."

Their words mingled with the soft sounds of their kisses, each touch igniting a spark of passion that consumed them both. With every caress, every whispered declaration of love, they felt their connection grow stronger, their desire reaching new heights.

"I love you, Madison," Y/N murmured, his lips brushing against hers in a tender kiss.

Madison's response was a low moan of pleasure, her hands pulling him closer, urging him to deepen their embrace. "I love you too, Y/N," she gasped, her voice filled with longing. "Only you."

"I need you," Y/N whispered, his voice raw with emotion as he pressed his forehead against Madison's, their breaths mingling in the heat of the moment.

"You have me," Madison replied, her voice filled with love and devotion. "Completely."

Their bodies moved in a frenzy of passion, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through them. Y/N's lips found Madison's in a hungry kiss, their tongues dancing in a desperate tangle as they clung to each other, lost in the heat of the moment.

"Fuck, Madison," Y/N moaned against her lips, his voice thick with desire.

"Harder, baby," Madison gasped in response, her nails digging into his skin as she arched into his touch.

Their whispers of love and longing were drowned out by the sound of their moans, the room filled with the symphony of their desire. With each breath, each caress, they felt the tension building, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

"I can't take it anymore," Y/N groaned, his voice strained with need as he buried his face in the crook of Madison's neck.

Madison's response was a low, guttural moan, her body trembling with anticipation. "Me neither," she gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders as she rode the wave of pleasure that threatened to consume them both.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust pushing them closer to the edge. With each moan, each whispered declaration of love, they felt their passion reaching new heights, their connection deepening with every heartbeat.

"I'm about to cum," Y/N groaned, his voice thick with urgency as he struggled to hold on to the last shreds of control.

Madison's breath hitched at his words, her own release imminent. "Yes," she gasped, her voice a breathless plea. "Please, Y/N."

And with one final thrust, they tumbled over the edge together, their cries of ecstasy mingling in the air as they surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

As they lay tangled in each other's arms, their bodies still humming with the aftershocks of their lovemaking, Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to Madison's forehead, his heart overflowing with love for the woman in his arms.

"I love you, Madison," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

"I love you too, Y/N," she replied, her eyes shining with tears of joy. "Forever and always."

Their breaths slowed, synchronized in the intimate rhythm of lovers who had finally found solace in each other's arms. Y/N brushed his fingers through Madison's hair, the strands silky soft against his skin. Each touch, each caress, felt like a symphony of their souls intertwining.

As they lay there, Madison traced patterns on Y/N's chest, her touch feather-light against his skin. She traced the outline of his tattoo, her fingers lingering over each curve and line as if committing it to memory. Y/N closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of her touch, the warmth of her body pressed against his.

The night wore on, their whispers grew softer, their bodies growing heavy with the weight of sleep. They held each other close, unwilling to let go of the moment, unwilling to let go of each other.

#madison beer #madison beer x male reader #madison beer x reader #madison beer oneshot #madison beer imagine #madison beer fanfic #imagine #one shot #fanfic #dailywomen #Spotify

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afewproblems · 1 year

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Season 2 Halloween AU Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

A very big thank you to @strangersteddierthings for chatting with me today and being such a great sounding board for the next update!

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

***

"So…I have to ask," Eddie blurts out, cutting through the awkward silence that has fallen between them, "how were you gonna pick up your car before you ran into me?"

"I don't think it counts as running into you, if you were waiting for me Munson," Steve side steps the question expertly, flashing him a strange smirk that seems out of place. It falls after a second and twists into something pained.

"I was hoping Nance would take me," Steve says eventually, his voice soft, "which was pretty stupid in hindsight, 'specially cuz she was counting on me to drive her this morning, which--"

Steve cuts himself, snapping his mouth shut with a harsh click of teeth, he shakes his head and lifts his hand to run roughly through his hair.

"Doesn't matter anymore".

Eddie holds his breath, feeling the conversation begin to shift. It's as though he's stepped onto a tightrope and any wrong move could potentially send him over the edge.

He settles for nodding once, turning the key in the ignition.

Steve sighs and lets himself fall back into his seat, "I know you know already, the whole fucking school does, Billy saw to that," Steve gestures to his face, "say what you really want to ask".

Eddie's fingers tighten around the wheel as he turns them out of the parking lot, fighting the immediate urge to say, 'why did Miss Priss throw it all away?'

"You think I believe the rumours that come out of that shithole?" Eddie lies, keeping his eyes on the road this time.

He can feel Steve's unimpressed stare as they continue down mainstreet.

"Right, so you had no clue I was in detention?"

Eddie chews the inside of his cheek to fight the sly grin that begins to creep over his face, "Alright smart ass".

He hazards another glance at Steve as they begin to hit the residential area, he looks so different from the night before.

His limbs are loose, tension free, if it weren't for the heavy bags under Steve's eyes and the nervous tap of his fingers on the passenger door, Eddie would think he was finally relaxed.

"I knew a fight definitely happened, it's Hargrove," Eddie says slowly, carefully weighing his words, "but I typically prefer to hear the whole sordid story from the source before I pass any judgements, ya know?"

Steve doesn't say anything as they continue driving through residential the houses getting progressively bigger as they go.

"Did you," Steve pauses and breathes out slowly before shaking his head and lifting his face to meet Eddie's gaze, "is that offer for something stronger still open?"

Eddie smiles, "I think that can be arranged".

***

Eddie pulls over beside Tina Cline's house, wincing as the right front tire rolls over the curb and bounces the van as it lands on the street once more, startling a snort out of Steve.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Harrington," Eddie huffs as Steve shoots him a grin.

"Didn't say a word," Steve hums, unbuckling himself from the seat. Eddie watches as he opens the door and hops out. For a moment Eddie worries Steve will pull the same disappearing act from last night but he simply stops beside his car door and motions for Eddie to roll down his window.

Eddie cracks his door open instead, "window's broken, what?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "whatever Munson, you know the way? It's north on 5th and--"

"Then two more rights, yeah man," Eddie says with a laugh in his voice, "I dropped you off remember?"

"Fuck off," Steve huffs out, he's grinning though.

Steve swings the Beemer’s door open and slides in. He turns on the ignition and flinches at the loud burst of music from the stereo, the volume obviously set from the mood of the previous night.

'I want to know what love is, I want you to show me--'

Steve slams his hand against the console, cutting off the song with a harsh crack.

The van is parked just behind the Beemer so Eddie can't see Steve's face, but his head drops down onto the wheel for just the briefest moment before he slowly lifts it, turns on his signal and pulls away from the curb.

***

Steve beats him to the house.

He's getting out of the car, which is parked on the long driveway as Eddie pulls up to the street.

Eddie hops out of the van, hiking his backpack higher up on his shoulders, not bothering to lock it. Who would even want his shitty van among the BMWs and Mercedes parked down this street --hell, Eddie could have sworn he saw a Jag three houses down.

Eddie stops short of the lawn. The Harrington house is so different in the light of day, the strange emptiness that seemed to ooze out of the dark windows the night before has disappeared, leaving an ordinary house in its wake.

"Well?" Steve calls out as he pulls a pair of keys from his back pocket and spins them once on his finger, "you coming or what Munson?"

Eddie rolls his eyes and jogs to catch up to Steve who turns on his heel to stride up the walk. He stuffs the key into the deadbolt and swings one of the double doors inwards before shucking off his sneakers.

No shoes? Fucking rich people man.

Steve must notice Eddie's expression because he blushes and shrugs, "I know, I know, but my parents will be home for Thanksgiving this year so…may as well…"

He gestures around the sterile foyer with a tight smile, as though it explains everything.

If anything, Eddie has more questions.

Steve cuts off the thought by clearing his throat, "we should smoke outside, last thing I need is for you to burn a hole in the couch or something".

Eddie steps over the threshold and has to stop himself from whistling, were the ceilings always this high in this place?

He lifts his foot to unlace his left chuck, snorting at the strange little table in the middle of the foyer. A giant vase sits atop it filled with a mixture of what have to be silk flowers --no way they were real. He pulls the shoe off and tosses it to the side before lifting his right foot.

Eddie never had the greatest balance so he hops back and forth with his right foot in the air before hopping as close as he can to the wall of the foyer and leaning back against it.

He finally gets the knot in his laces undone and throws the sneaker to the floor, dropping his right foot to the hardwood.

Eddie looks up to find Steve staring with a bemused expression on his face, he ignores the wide hazel eyes and removes the backpack from his shoulders -which can't have been helping the balance issue.

Eddie unzips the top and yanks out the trusty metal lunchbox, sliding a wicked grin into place.

"You said something about outside?"

***

By the time they've settled, facing one another on a couple of pool loungers, the sun has begun to dip low, painting the patio and empty pool a warm glowing copper. It catches Steve's hair, which shines like gold in the dying sunlight, like some Autumnal Fae King--

Eddie wants to slap himself, suddenly thankful for the November wind that cuts through the backyard, forcing him to chillout.

He picks up the grinder from his lunchbox, unscrewing the cap to open it.

"You good with a joint this evening my good King?"

He pours a handful of a new strain Rick let him try the other day into the grinder and starts twisting. It's not something he would typically share with anyone other than Jeff, but Steve seemed like he could use something a little more special tonight.

Eddie looks up after a beat of silence, "yo, Major Tom, you with me?"

Steve's face is pinched, tilted towards the empty pool, "please don't call me that," he says quietly.

"Major Tom?"

Steve raises his eyes to meet Eddie's gaze, his mouth cuts a hard line across his face, the typical easy grin it usually houses is gone.

"King-Steve," he runs a hand through his hair, letting the fingers linger to grip and pull, "I just, that's not who I am anymore, I don't--"

Steve swallows harshly, "that's all anyone could talk about this morning".

He drops his voice and octave, "oh, King Steve is so pussy whipped he let his girl fuck Jonathan Byers before she dumped him".

"Is that what Hargrove said?" Eddie asks quietly as he pours out a portion of weed onto a paper.

Steve shakes his head, "that was Tommy, but that wasn't why I hit him".

Eddie nods, and lifts the joint to his mouth to run his tongue along the edge of the paper. Steve watches him from the lounger, his eyes follow the movement before he blinks and continues.

"Tommy and I had been best friends since we were five, he uh, he knows a lot about me," Steve lifts his hand to his mouth and chews the nail of his thumb briefly before dropping it back into his lap.

"Stuff I don't tell anyone, stuff he knows will hurt".

Eddie nods, twisting the joint closed, he can kind of understand that, although the only person in his life that knew him like that was Wayne.

And Wayne would never hurt him.

Did Steve really not have anyone else like that in his life, someone he could tell anything to that wouldn't look at him weird or judge him. Someone safe.

"Anyway, Hargrove started in on me after that, but he's been fucking with me for awhile so," Steve shrugs again, "he saw his big opportunity here".

"Hargrove's been messing with you?" Eddie asks sharply as he pours more weed onto another paper. He lifts it and runs his tongue along the edge of the paper before twisting it into shape. When he looks up, Steve's ears have gone slightly pink and he's sitting strangely, slightly hunched and twisted.

"Yeah," Steve says after a moment, he clears his throat and straightens his back, "yeah, it's just been at practice so far, and I thought it was just because he wanted to one up me for my spot but," he shakes his head, "it's getting worse".

"You know, I have a bit of a reputation around school," Eddie says slowly, carefully, watching as Steve freezes and looks at Eddie with wide eyes.

"The Hellfire club is more than just the game we're playing, it's also kind of a sanctuary for kids that don't have anyone to lean on, we look after each other," Eddie continues, ignoring the way Steve relaxes slightly, "you wouldn't need to play or anything but if you need somewhere to sit at lunch now…"

Steve looks at Eddie for a long time, his expression blank, guarded, "really? Just like that?"

"Yeah man, besides I get to use my 'Mean and Scary Guy' persona on these fuckers so it's a win-win for me".

Steve grins, raising one skeptical eyebrow, "mean and scary?"

Eddie bristles a little bit at the questioning tone in Steve's voice and can't quite swallow the urge to snarl, "yeah I mean you looked plenty scared of the town freak yesterday".

Steve winces and immediately starts to shake his head, inching forward in his seat so he's even closer to Eddie, their knees are almost touching.

"That's not, I wasn't," he stops and takes a deep breath, "I was upset about Nancy and it was so dark outside, the trees--"

"You afraid of the dark Harrington?" Eddie cuts him off, the lingering irritation still simmers in his voice as he coos.

Steve just looks at him, there's something strange about the haunted expression on his face that makes the hair on the back of Eddie's arms stand on end.

"Things happen in the dark, in the woods," Steve says softly, his eyes drift to the empty pool again.

Eddie opens his mouth to ask Steve what the hell he means by that, when a voice shouts across the yard.

"Steve? STEVE?!"

The sound of someone running through the grass has them both of their feet, the joints forgotten on the pool loungers.

"Dustin?"

A kid, he can't be more than twelve or thirteen, skids into the porchlight that has replaced the last copper rays of evening light, the sun fully set by now. The kid's blue eyes are wide underneath a mop of curly hair and hat, he's breathing hard.

"I need your help".

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson

Part Five

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads @stevesbipanic

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megantheebaddest · 8 months

Note

Reader and Drew were in a relationship for about 3 years before OBX came out. They have a 3/4 year old daughter together. However, around 2022 they split due of rumors about Drew and Odessa and it seems he did have a thing for Odessa. Drew still spends time with their daughter and whenever he picks her up Odessa always seems to be with him, it upsets Reader to see how quickly he moved on. Reader expresses her feelings to Madelyn Cline and Madison Bailey as she is still good friends with cast members despite her and Drew no longer being together.

I love your work so much and I loved this idea so much hopefully you can do this I would really appreciate it 🤍

a/n: Thank you so much for this idea. I loved writing this🥹 I hope you don’t mind that i changed a little bit and i had to give them a some what happy ending 😁 lol

warnings: none

Y/d/n = Your daughter’s name

Turn Back Time

“Daddy’s coming, daddy’s coming” Your daughter was singing while jumping on your bed, you were fixing yourself up in the mirror. You looked at her through the mirror and smiled.

“Yep he’s on his way! What do you think you and daddy will do today?”

“Everything!” She screamed and landed on her little butt.

You giggled. You loved how much she adored her dad, despite the fact that you guys are no longer together. He still made it a priority to see her multiple times a week and take her overnight some weekends. Some days and nights were harder than others, even though you both fought and argued a lot, you were both always on the same page when it came to your daughter.

“Come here baby, mommy’s gonna miss you” You say scooping her up in your arms. She cuddled into you. You both heard a car door slam shut. “He’s here!!!!!” She jumped off the bed and ran as fast as her little legs could go. You followed behind her with a smile. There were a few small knocks at the door and your daughter gladly opened it.

“Daddy!!!” She ran into his arms, he was squatting down to her level she almost knocked him over.

“Y/d/n!! Hi baby girl!” he said back, squeezing her and kissing all over her face making her giggle.

You couldn’t help but notice his car was still running, Odessa sitting in the passenger seat. You rolled your eyes subtly and shook your head, gaze falling to the floor. Drew set y/d/n down and looked at you with a small smile. Your daughter ran back in the house to collect the things she was taking for her visit.

“Hey mama” Drew said stepping foot into the entry way. Your dog that you once shared together ran up to him. “Hi buddy!” drew quietly said petting the dog.

“Hi Joseph” you said short turning your gaze elsewhere.

“What do you have planned for the day?” He asked.

“Catching up with Madison and Madelyn, we’re getting some lunch.”

“Oh so in other words a get together to talk shit on me?” He said smirking and winking playfully.

“Not everything is about you.” You say rolling your eyes.

“Relax, i’m only kidding. What’s up with you? You seem off?” He asked “Is it that time of the month?” He joked laughing a bit.

“Alright. Y/d/n!!! Come on, time to go!!” You yelled shaking your head.

“Y/n i’m just messing with you!” He said with a smile on his face. “Come on, talk to me what’s up?”

“Why do you bring her to my house.” You said motioning towards his car. You stood there with your arms crossed feeling vulnerable. “When are you gonna admit you guys are dating?”

“Why would i admit or say something that’s not true?” He asked with an annoying tone.

You just chuckled and shook your head. “Mhm”

“Come on, quit being like that y/n. What do you still care about me?” He said wiggling his eye brows, starting to mess with you again.

“Wish I didn’t.” You say quite enough for just you two to hear.

“I’m ready!” Y/d/n interrupts dragging an over flowing bag with toys and random ‘necessities’.

“You don’t mean that.” Drew said still looking in your eyes, you could sense a little hurt in them. You leaned down to kiss your daughter bye.

“Have fun girlfriend!” You say standing back up. She ran out the door and Drew just stood there looking at you with sad eyes. Once you looked at him he just turned and left. You watched your daughter run to the car. “Dessa!” you heard her scream, you watched Odessa wave at her excitedly with a huge smile on her face. Drew buckled your daughter in and usually he turns to wave bye to you, but this time he didn’t.

——

“I don’t know, sometimes i wonder what it would be like to have my family together. I do love him still, so much” Saying the last part just barley over a whisper. Madelyn looked at you with understanding eyes. Madison just pouted her lips.

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t just admit they are together.” You say defeated.

“Oh Y/n.. They aren’t together! They really are just good friends.” Madelyn says. “I hang out with her sometimes and she’s always hooking up with someone different.” she says giggling.

“Oh” You say, thinking back to how you’ve been treating Drew. “Well fuck, i’m such an asshole i should’ve took his word for it. I’m so stupid.” You say putting your head in your hands.

“No, you just aren’t over him, and that’s totally okay!! You both need to have a serious conversation about it. Madison said. You shook your head agreeing.

“Okay enough talk about that, what have you girls been up to?” You ask, thinking about how you said not everything was about Drew but here you are doing just what he’d said.

———

Folding your daughter’s laundry in the living room getting some chores done with an extra big glass of wine before your daughter gets home, you find yourself zoning out thinking about how this conversation could go. You’d hoped he’d want to have one with you. You heard faint quiet knocks at your door, letting you know she was home. You stood up, all the wine you’d consumed hit you and you were feeling a little dizzy. You weren’t drunk just feeling tipsy, you silently admit to yourself that maybe you shouldn’t have had that extra glass. You make your way to the door and swing it open expecting to see a happy energetic girl, but instead she was sleeping, clinging to her daddy for dear life. He was rubbing small circles on her back and swaying back and forth. You smiled at him but he brushed it off and whispered to you. “I’m gonna lay her in her bed. Is that okay?” He asked looking to the ground. You shook your head yes, following him to her room.

He carefully laid her in her bed and tucked her in extra comfy, you were glad he’d already put her pajamas on. You thought to yourself how amazing he was with her, it came so natural to him. He stood up and naturally backed up so you could kiss her. You leaned down kissing her and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Drew couldn’t help thinking the same of you. His favorite thing about you was that you are the mother to his child. He wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I’m gonna head out y/n..” Drew turned to leave.

“Wait!” you whisper yelled, losing your balance a little from the wine.

Drew raised an eyebrow. You grabbed his arm and led him out to the hallway. “I wanna talk to you about things.” You said looking up into his eyes.

“Y/n I already told you, it’s not like that with her” He said already getting annoyed.

“Nooo not about that, we’ll kind of but not.”

Drew’s eyes flickered between yours, the corner of his lip slowly turning up. “Are you drunk?” He laughs.

“What? No. Absolutely not. I just had a glass of wine.”

“One glass?” He said smiling.

“Fine 2… big ones. Come on, will you please talk to me?”

“Of course, you know i’ll always talk with you” he said following you to the living room. He took a seat next to you immediately grabbing a piece of y/d/n’s laundry to fold. You just watched him for a few moments while you gathered your thoughts.

“I’m sorry Drew. I’m sorry for how i’ve been treating you recently i-i just can’t help but think how different everything would be if..”

“If we never broke up?” He finished your sentence.

A sigh escaped your lips as you reached for your wine glass. “I think about it all the time. I wish I could go back and change things. Change my feelings, my insecurities within the relationship, everything.” You say fiddling with your glass.

Drew continued folding the rest of the clothes. He just listened and shook his head in an understanding way.

“Every time I see you I think about how much I miss you.. I miss you so much.” You whispered the last part.

“Y/n.” Drew sighed putting a shirt down. “Come here” He patted his lap.

You looked at him and then back to your drink. You set it down and carefully straddled his lap. You watched as his eyes scanned every inch of your face, your eyes closing at the feeling of him pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“There isn’t a day where i don’t sit and wonder those exact things. I love you, I always have and I always will. You and Y/d/n are my life. Nothing will ever compare nor will anything ever change that. I hate what happened and knowing how you felt but we can’t change the past. Everything happens for a reason honey.”

You sat on his lap listening with tears streaming down your face. Drew brought both of his hands up to your face to wipe the tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. He brought your head towards him and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I mean it Y/n, I love you to death”

“I love you” you whispered.

You leaned against his chest, his hands naturally rubbing all over your back to soothe you.

“Mmm” you hummed in comfort. The sound of his heart beat, the smell of his cologne, his embrace all made you feel so safe and content. You have missed this feeling so much.

“Drew?”

“hmm?” He said looking down at you running his hand through your hair.

“I need you.. Like really bad”

He grinned from ear to ear crashing his lips into yours.

#Drew Starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fic #drew starkey imagine #dad!drew starkey #drew starkey x female reader #send requests #anon request

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andy-15-07 · 7 months

Text

Family love

masterlist ! pairing: Rudy Pankow x reader

SUMMARY : The nights are the most beautiful with the family

Genre: fluff, lovee

I remember heartbeat in the doctors office, she had him wrapped around her little finger. Rudy is the most excited for his little princess, regardless of the moment he talks to the baby in my belly, when she hears him, her little feet hit where my husband is holding his hand.

And our son was ecstatic, too. Our two year old, Andrew . He loved to put his little hands on either side of my belly, and wait to feel his baby sister kick and he loved to put his head on my belly when we stay on the couch while watching tv.

Nights have become our favorite times when Rudy and I are in bed. Rudy leaning against the headboard, and me between his legs, with my back against his chest, one of his hands on my stomach.

We giggled as we looked at our baby girl's ultrasound, wondering who she would look more like.

I want our daughter to have my eyes and lips and Rudy's nose and hair. While our son has Rudy's eyes, lips and nose, but his hair color is mine. The most beautiful combination of us.

Rudy and I have decided on what to name our daughter, Madelyn Lisa Pankow. We wanted it as our daughter. Same situation as our daughter, our son's name is Andrew Chase Pankow.

Before becoming parents for the first time, we decided to name our children after the people who have always been with us and we can consider them as members of our family. Our children's godparents are Chase Stokes and Madelyn Cline and they always came to help Andrew and me.

It was almost 11 at night and our little princess had other plans instead of sleeping, Rudy was facing me and his hand was on my belly where the baby had hit. I heard the small steps coming from the hall.

"Daddy?" He spoke from the door , rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, baby?” Rudy asked him, as he looked back to find him.

“Can I come sleep with you? ”

“Sure, baby. Come lay with me and mommy.” Rudy told him, as he lifted the bedsheets up to greet our exhausted toddler. He sped over to our bed, and climbed up from his little steps, and rolled over Rudy's legs to land right in between us and my dear husband lift him up to cuddle.

"I was talking to your sister, do you want to talk to her too?"

He nodded his little head, and Rudy took his hand and put it where he had it a few minutes ago.

"What do you say if you start talking to her, maybe you will feel it too, what do you say my boy?"

“I’m Andrew . I'm your big brother and I will protect you . We will play together and I will read you books and stories . I love you baby sis .” He said, and the second he finished, she stuck her little feet out and gave him a tiny kick, and his excitement was so pure, he looked up at me and squealed .

"Mom, dad, you saw, my sister hit, it means she likes me." Andrew says and gets closer between us.

After a few minutes I notice that our beautiful boy has fallen asleep. I raise my head and look at my dear Rudy, the man I fell in love with from a young age, as he was looking at me smiling.

"Maybe now you will sleep peacefully my dear." It boosts my Rudy.

"Maybe. Good night, I love you Rudy!"

"Good night my love, I love you all" I hear him say and I fall asleep.

Rudy didn't sleep, he was looking at his beautiful family, he can be considered the happiest man on earth.

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matttgirlies · 5 months

Text

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

heavy warnings - SA!!, vague mention of drug use - if any of these topics make you uncomfortable the scene involving SA will be outlined and please don’t feel the need to read it, please take care of yourself🩷

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused

Chapter 3

Time had become my enemy. Matt was due to return to the States on March 1, 1960. I had only a few months left to spend as much time with him as I could.

Every minute I wasn’t with him, I thought of him. My life was now dominated by him and yet there were times when I would be disappointed by him. One evening he told me he would call and didn’t. When I finally heard from him the next day, he said, “Hi, Baby. Do you think you can come over tonight?”

“What happened last night? You were supposed to call.”

“I was? Oh shit.” He had been concentrating on his karate lesson and had forgotten.

I had to learn not to take his words to heart. It was disappointing, but it was just his way.

Matt’s calls usually came after seven to let me know that I’d be picked up around eight. I had to dress quickly, trying to find some way to appear older than my age. His father was concerned about Matt being with a minor. My clothes were all young and unsophisticated skirts and sweaters. At times I’d borrow my mother’s clothes and hope everyone would assume that I was at least sixteen.

As I got to know Matt, I learned that when he wasn’t at the base, he stayed at home all of the time. He had little choice. The moment he stepped out of the door there was a giant mob scene around him. Even going to see a local movie required elaborate planning. Someone would drive Matt’s car in front of the house. He would then run out, hurdle the fence, and duck into the car before any of his fans could start begging him for autographs. There were always crowds after him, calling, standing outside the house, literally charging at him when he entered any public place. Many evenings when Matt had early morning calls it was either David Jones, a friend who Matt had brought over from the States, or James Sturniolo who drove me to and from 18 Hauptstrasse.

One particular evening when neither David nor James was able to drive me home, Matt had a “friend” who was called Pete take me.

THIS SCENE INCLUDES SA!!

if this topic makes you uncomfortable please skip.

Pete was driving me from Matt’s home back to Wiesbaden. I was tired and dozing off. All of a sudden, I felt the road get bumpy. I opened my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’ll find out,” he said, turning his head away.

We had driven off the highway onto a dirt road. I could see the lights of one distant house, and the rest was all blackness. I began to get frightened. “What’s going on?” I inquired, confused. By then Pete had stopped the car and shut off the ignition.

I repeated my question, but Pete didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and grabbed me, trying to kiss me. I pushed him away, struggling. He threw me down on the seat.

Panicked, I begged, “Don’t! Leave me alone!” I started fighting. I kicked one door open and opened the driver’s door with my hand while simultaneously banging the horn, hitting the lights, and scratching at his face. Out of frustration and fear of being caught, he finally gave up.

The rest of the way home, he never said a word. I just sat there sobbing, disbelieving, praying that I would get home safely.

END OF SCENE

Three days passed from that night before I heard from Matt. My parents knew something was wrong; however, I couldn’t tell them Pete tried to attack me because I would never be allowed to ride with him again. If I didn’t, how would I get to and from Matt’s if David and James weren’t available? My imagination ran wild. I was afraid to tell Matt because I thought Pete was his friend. I began to think that perhaps Matt knew what Pete had attempted. Maybe I was just a plaything to Matt, someone to pass around to Pete, or anyone else who wanted me. I was tortured by my thoughts.

Finally, Pete called and said Matt wanted to see me. I had no choice but to go with him.

During the drive to Bad Nauheim, Pete made no mention of what had transpired between us, and neither did I. I said nothing. I was very apprehensive being with him. I didn’t know, when he removed his hand from the steering wheel, if he was going to try to touch me, or just what was on his mind. I had no choice but to tell Matt.

That evening, when we were alone in his room, Matt asked me if anything was wrong.

My voice was trembling. I could hardly get the words out.

When I finally did tell him, Matt went crazy. “I’m going to kill him,” he shouted. He paced the floor, cursing Pete. I was his little girl, Matt said, and he had never gone all the way with me. Now this other guy, this so-called friend of his, had tried to rape me. I listened as he shouted, secretly relieved at his response. How could I ever have doubted Matt?

Matt was so angry, it took me the whole evening to calm him down. I finally convinced him that we had to keep Pete’s attack secret from my parents, or I’d never be allowed to come back. Matt held me tightly, as if trying to take the painful memory away. He felt guilty for having put me in such a dangerous position.

From that time on, Pete was fully excluded from Matt’s life. I don’t think Matt ever told him why, but Pete must have known. He rarely came around after that.

I began to realize that Matt expected total loyalty from his friends. If he was betrayed, he would just cut that person out of his life.

James was now sporting a neatly trimmed mustache that, according to Matt, Angela Stanley had encouraged him to grow. Mine and James’s conversations in the car were somewhat boring, and I always sensed he’d just as soon be doing something else, like spending the time with Angela, who sometimes accompanied him.

These days when I arrived at 18 Hauptstrasse I’d often find Matt upstairs studying the ancient art of karate with his instructor or downstairs in the living room proudly demonstrating new moves to his entourage, who stood about interested at his mastery of this newly popularized art form.

Matt also spent hours with a half-mad German masseur who had him convinced he could rejuvenate facial skin with his secret treatments, Matt having always been self conscious about some large pores on his face started to see him. Nate Doe ribbed Matt, saying, “What the hell’s he doing that’s so special? You look the same to me.” Defensively, Matt shot back, “Well damn! He says it’ll take some time before you see the results.” James interjected: “Time? Yeah, probably enough time to bankrupt us all by what he’s charging. I wouldn’t trust him farther than I could throw him.”

Always a center of activity at the house was Matt’s grandmother, who he nicknamed Dodger. Matt had come up with the name when he was a small boy of five and, during a temper tantrum, had thrown a baseball, missing her head by inches. Matt jokingly said, “She dodged out of the way so fast.” He started calling her Dodger from that moment.

Grandma took care of the household, did the cooking, kept everyone and everything under control. She had the air of a person with a firm purpose in life, which, in Matt’s case, was to make sure he was very well cared for. When I sought quiet while Matt practiced karate, Dodger’s room was a place to escape to. We’d sit for hours and she would tell me about the old days, about Mary Lou and her boundless love for Matt, about the grim struggle the Sturniolos had waged for survival. She had been with James and Mary Lou from the time of Matt’s birth, helping out when Mary Lou took jobs to contribute to the family’s support. A strong woman, Grandma had prevailed when her husband had walked out on her, leaving her with five children. She wanted you to believe she held a grudge against J. D. Sturniolo, but Dodger was a forgiving heart and I believe she still cared for him.

She helped raise Matt as if he were her own son, somewhat spoiling him as grandmothers do. She always rushed to his defence when she felt Mary Lou was too stern. Dodger said to me, “Mary Lou always called me Mrs. Sturniolo from the time I first met her until she breathed her last breath. One day Matt came running in and said, ‘Hi, Minnie!’ I felt so sorry for that young’un. Mary Lou rose up, took her hand to that boy, and said, ‘Don’t you ever call her by her first name. That’s disrespectful. She’s your grandma.’ He cried for an hour. I went in and said, ‘Son, it’ll be all right. She was just doing what she thought was right. Now you go in and apologize to her.’ Poor little boy looked at me with those blue eyes. So pitiful. Oh, she could be hard on him. He was a good boy, though. Never really got into any trouble, always came right home from school and did his chores. Yes, and Mary Lou would watch over him like a hawk, so scared he’d be hurt. He wanted so bad to play football at school.”

Grandma rocked back and forth in her chair, seeing something in the past that made her start picking at the bobby pins in her hair. She reached for her little box of snuff, took a dip, situated it just right, and then continued to reminisce. “Yes, he loved sports.”

“Then why didn’t he go out for any, Grandma?”

“Oh no. Mary Lou wouldn’t have that. She’d tell me, ‘Oh, Mrs. Sturniolo, I couldn’t stand it if Matt got hurt. It would kill me. I’ve watched how they play out there in those fields. They get real rough. I think they enjoy hurtin’ each other. Matt isn’t like that. He’d get out there and he’d be like a wounded bird in a pack of wild dogs. Not my young’un.’” Mary Lou’s constant effort to protect Matt, I learned, was the result of her anguish over the death of Matt’s twin brother Joseph Aaron Sturniolo.

I came to love Dodger and what she represented, compassion and total devotion to her family.

My biggest problem in those days was that Matt and I never seemed to have enough time alone. People were always dropping by, standing around the living room talking and laughing, until Matt came down from his room. As soon as he appeared, the room would become silent until he revealed his mood. No one, including myself, dared joke around unless he laughed and then we all laughed.

Because I had to share the little time I had with Matt with so many others, I began to feel jealous and possessive. It was only late in the evening, when we were in his bedroom, that I was truly happy.

We had a nightly ritual. At about ten or eleven, Matt would glance at me and look toward the stairs. Then, naively assuming that nobody knew where I was headed, I’d casually proceed to his bedroom, where I’d lie on his bed, impatiently waiting for him to appear. When he joined me, he’d lie as close to me as he could. “I love you,” I whispered. “Shhh,” he said as he put his fingers to my lips. “I don’t really understand what it is I’m feeling. I’ve grown to love you, y/nn. Dad keeps reminding me of your age and that it can’t be possible . . . When I go home . . . Only time will tell.”

Each night that I was with him he entrusted a little more of himself—his doubts, his secrets, and his frustrations. It was a lot to expect an impressionable fourteen year old to understand, but I tried. I felt his pain over his mother’s death. I ached over his desire to become a great actor like his idols Marlon Brando, James Dean, Karl Malden, and Rod Steiger. I was concerned about his fears that he might not regain the popularity he felt he’d lost by serving in the Army. And I reveled in his laughter when he asked, “What if one day I end up back driving a Crown Electric truck? Wouldn’t that be something?”

I was there for him, to listen, to hold his hand, or to make a funny face that would turn his frown into a smile.

Sometimes Matt would enter his bedroom in high spirits. I longed for those nights when he’d shut off the lights and lie close beside me.

“Sweetness,” he would say, putting his arms around me. “You’re so pretty, Honey.” And then we’d kiss long, deep, passionate kisses, and his caresses would leave me weak with desire.

Nights when his mood was calm and peaceful, he would describe his ideal woman and tell me how perfectly I fit this image.

He liked soft-spoken y/hc with y/ec eyes. He wanted to mold me to his opinions and preferences. Despite his reputation for being a rebel, he held the traditional view of relationships. A woman had her place, and it was the man who took the initiative.

Loyalty was very important to him, especially on the woman’s part. He constantly reminded me that his girl had to be completely constant. He admitted that he was concerned about Nicole. She was a Boston beauty queen and television personality. Matt said that lately her letters had become very impersonal, and he suspected she had been with another man.

Despite his moralizing, I feared Matt wasn’t always faithful to me. His bantering with some of the other girls at his house made me think that he might be intimately familiar with them.

One evening he was playing the piano for the regular group, plus a couple of English girls. When he picked up his guitar, he looked around, but couldn’t seem to find his pick.

“Anybody seen my guitar pick?” he asked.

One of the English girls looked up and smiled. “It’s upstairs on the night table next to your bed. I’ll get it.”

All eyes, including mine, zeroed in on her as she made her way up the stairs, aware that she was now the center of attention.

Furious at his obvious betrayal, I turned to him, but he was avoiding my gaze by looking down at his guitar, plucking it as if it needed tuning. Then he burst into “Lawdy, Miss Clawdy.”

Without a pick, his fingers must have hurt badly, but no matter what, he wasn’t about to put that guitar down. He knew he was in trouble.

After he’d finished a medley of songs, Matt excused himself and retreated into the kitchen, with me right behind him.

“Have you been with her?” I demanded.

“No,” Matt insisted.

“Then how did she know where your guitar pick and room were?”

“She was over one night, and I mentioned how dirty the place was,” he answered, a boyish grin on his face. “She offered to clean it, simple as that.”

Despite his declaration of innocence, I was not reassured. He was the sexual idol of millions and could choose whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I quickly learned, for my own survival, not to ask too many questions.

As the weeks passed, school became an unbearable chore. After getting to bed so late, I found it difficult to rise at seven and almost impossible to concentrate. But I knew that if I ever complained about being too tired, or was late for school, my parents would use the fact to put a stop to my seeing Matt.

My study habits became worse. I was failing algebra and German, and barely passing history and English. At the end of the fall semester, I altered the D-minus grade on my report card to a B-plus, praying my father would never consult the teacher. I kept telling myself that I would do better, that I’d catch up, but my concentration was totally on Matt.

One night when I went to see him, I fell asleep while waiting for him to finish his karate class. When he came downstairs and saw how exhausted I was, he asked, “y/n, how many hours of sleep are you getting?”

After a second, I said, “About four or five hours a night. But I’ll be fine,” I added quickly. “I’m just a little extra tired tonight because we had some tests at school today.”

Matt looked thoughtful, and then said, “Come upstairs a minute. I have something for you.” He led me up to his room, where he placed a handful of small white pills in the palm of my hand. “I want you to take these; they’ll help you stay awake during the day. Just take one when you feel a little drowsy, no more than one, though, or you’ll be doing handstands down the hallway.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“You don’t need to know what they are; they give them to us when we go on maneuvers. If I didn’t have them, I’d never make it through the day myself. But it’s okay, they’re safe,” he told me. “Put them away and don’t tell anyone you have them, and don’t take them every day. Just when you need a little more energy.”

Matt honestly thought he was doing me a favor by giving me the pills, and I’m sure the thought never entered his mind that they could be harmful to him or me.

I didn’t take the pills. I put them in a small box with various items I had started to collect, such as cigar holders and little personal notes he had given me, and hid the box in a drawer.

Later I learned that the pills were Dexedrine, which Matt had first discovered in the Army. A sergeant had given several men pills to help them stay awake while on guard duty. Matt, who was accustomed to living the life of an entertainer and who despised rising at dawn, began taking the pills to get him through the long dreary hours of Army life. He told me he’d begun taking sleeping pills shortly before he’d been drafted. He dreaded insomnia and feared sleepwalking, which had plagued him periodically since childhood.

In fact, as a boy, he’d once sleepwalked straight out of his apartment, dressed only in his underwear. A neighbor woke him, and, embarrassed, he ran back into the house. Another time, he nearly fell out of a window. Consequently, to avoid accidents, he slept with his parents until he was grown, and he feared his sleepwalking habit for the rest of his life. It was one of the reasons he usually had someone sleeping with him.

Years later, I learned that someone had been employed in Germany to watch over him throughout the night.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - i know this was a deeper chapter so for anyone who skipped it i promise its not very important to the story however Priscilla included this in her book so i thought i should share that too. 🎀

#chris sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #Spotify

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marvelshifter111 · 2 months

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Introducing my Marvel DR

+ master list

General info:

Name: E__ Luna Z______

Age: 19

Job: Avengers

Code name: Nyx

Face claim: Madelyn Cline

About this DR:

Loki is one of the Avengers, after the events of the Attack on New York, Odin sent Loki to Earth as a punishment.

Frigga doesn't die in 'Thor: dark world'.

Bucky didn't kill Tony's parents and he becomes a part of the Avengers in 2016.

Bucky and Natasha are dating.

Pietro didn't die in Sokovia in 2015.

Antonija, Marija, Tom, Mattheo and i became recruits of the Avengers in 2016. We trained for the first two years and did night patrol, we started with mission's when all of us turned 18, and even then we do them just if needed (I don't wanna get traumatized).

Tony doesn't sell the Avengers tower.

Natasha takes the Red Room down in 2018 and Yelena becomes and Avenger the same year.

The Avengers start working with TF 141 in 2019.

The events from 'Thor: Ragnarok' last for 2 weeks.

Thanos attacks Earth in 2021.

Vision doesn't die in infinity war.

The Avengers bring back everyone that got blipped 5 months after the snap.

My powers:

entering dreams

‌inflicting nightmares/terrors

‌manipulating dreams

‌incarnation of dreams

‌exploring dreams

‌mind reading

‌flight

‌putting people to sleep

‌empathy

‌telepathy

‌mind manipulation

‌telekinesis

‌adaption

‌adaptive muscle memory

‌magic manipulation

‌healing

‌conjuration

‌transmutation

‌absorption

‌teleportation

My backstory:

Maybe a bit dramatic, don't judge me

I was born in Eastern Europe in October 2000.

My father is a millionaire (not Tony), my mother is a lawyer. I have a older brother and a younger sister. At some point my father cheated on my mother so they go divorced. He got married again, and that's how i got a step brother.

My friends and I got our powers in 2015 when we were on vacation together in the forest. There was a explosion in a Hydra base close to where we were staying and that's how i got my powers.

My siblings:

I just don't wanna talk about the parents

Brother - Vuk Rafael Z______

Sister - Andrea Elena Z______

Step brother - John J. "JJ" Maybank

My pet:

Mika

Father figure:

Bodyguard - Jason Smith

Scripted in friends:

Marija Aloui - plant related powers, pink powers, 18, FC - Dina Denoire

Antonija Özdemir - eldritch magic, green powers, 18, FC - Derya Pinar Ak

Mattheo Riddle - force fields generation, light blue powers, 18 (turning 19 soon)

Tom Riddle - manipulation related powers, dark green powers, 19

Marija and Mattheo are dating and Antonija and Tom are dating

My S/O:

Loki Laufeyson 💚

I love him so much aaaaaaaa

Master list

Incorrect qoutes

My day

Young Avengers

"the blonde - their brunette problem"

Dunno if this is interesting to anyone, maybe I'll for it for my other DRs too

#shiftblr #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting community #reality shift #shifting #shifting realities #dr ideas #marvel dr

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stardrewkey · 5 days

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𐙚- Soft!Shy! Pogue reader mood board!

Okay so u imagine her yapping in rafes ear, making him turn to mush whenever she compliments him, She’s definitely a baker. She loves ballet

Rafe definitely was possessive of her, after all.. she was his naive little pogue

𐙚- she was a huge Lana Del Rey and Jeff buckley fan

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #fanfic #smut #rafe outer banks #madelyn cline #daddy's good girl #rudy pankow #outer banks #step bro rafe #bambi #doe eyes #soft!shy!pogue

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queenofpurgatoryq · 5 months

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@elysiankitty said: I've always wanted someone to write what might've happened if it had been Asi who found Alaz that first night, with no Ruya or Yaman. I thought about doing it myself, but I'm not much of a writer.

thank you for this idea!!

feel free to send me head canons/requests/anything aslaz related

It was one of these nights where Asi simply needed to be out in the open.

It was strange considering she had spent a considerable time in her life dreaming of a roof over their heads to keep them secure, a warm bed and a door for a privacy. She had it now and she was content with her squeky bed and a room that smelled a little of mold and humidity yet some nights she just wished to breathe out in the open.

Maybe you could never get rid of the street kid you had inside of yourself, she had to wait and see.

Yaman was working that night and Cesur was having an early night in. Asi was feeling restless. She went out in her pijamas which were her old joggers and a band t-shirt Yaman had bought years ago, with her leather jacket on top. She was feeling chilly but the cold was a welcalmed addition to calm her mind in this restless night.

Her thoughts (that were all over the place to begin with) were interrupted with a loud engine sound and a distant club music blasting from the speakers.

She rolled her eyes at the audacity, at this hour of the night and at this neighbourhood it had guts to drive around like that.

She turned around to see the car and was blinded by the headlight and well, the car was moving towards her too fast and she barely threw herself of road.

The car stopped with tires screaming with the force of it, the music was still blasting as she heard someone getting out of the car.

She groaned a little as she rolled on to her back, her arm was hurting a little.

"Hey, sorry I didn-"

"Are you fucking crazy?" She yelled as she sat up, she was fuming. "You entiled rich bastard, almost fucking killed me!"

She got up and tried to get rid of the dust on herself.

"Well, you were the one on the road," the guy muttered which made Asi even angrier. She looked up with a frown on her face.

"DOES THAT MEAN YOU CAN KILL ME, YOU FUCKING IDIOT?"

She moved forward and the guy took a step back with his hands above the air in surrender. His hair was ruffled and he was swaying a little bit, barely standing still. "Wow, easy there girl. You are the one with a possible murder charge here, with that murderous look in your eyes."

The guy laughed, he looked young and hadsome when he did. With that Asi punched him across the face.

"FUCK!" The guy yelled as he stepped back and fall down on his back like a rag doll. Asi could smell the booze off of him now, could see his white shirt clining on to his chest with sweat. She stared at him as he laid down with an arm drapped over his eyes, and his face squmished with pain.

Of course the rich asshole was drunk or high or both, and she had knocked him down.

Asi started to feel a little anxious, she did not want an actual murder charge on her hands on a random Friday. She moved closer and nudged him with her shoe, she could see his chest raising and falling which was a relief but there was no response. "Hey, asshole. Wake up," she said.

Oh god, was he brain dead or something?

She crouched next to him, his lip was bleeding from her punch and in her opinion it was well deserved. Such a pity that the bastard had a pretty face and she had to mess it up a litile.

"Come on, wake up," she said again. The music was blasting and the car screaming a techno song still and Asi felt like throwing up. "Hey! Are you ok-"

As she grabbed him by his shoulders and shook a little, he grabbed her by the wrist and smiled. "I think you deserved this scare," he opened his eyes with a mischievous glint in them. Asi yanked her hand and sat down as she stumbled back.

"You are such an asshole. Goodbye," she spat out as she got up.

The guy chuckled, and then subsequently started coughing in pain. "Don't go! My head hurts, you broke me, you fix me," he demanded but it felt childlike instead of commanding to Asi. He tried to sit up on the pavement and groanad in pain a little. He touched the back of his head and there was a little blood on her finger tips.

Great, fucking great.

"The weather is so nice. Should we go dancing?" He barely got up on his feet swaying from side to side and Asi had to hold him by the shoulder to prevent him from falling again.

"You are about to die you idiot, you might have concussion! Stay still," she said.

"But its so hot! I wanna swim."

Asi groaned as the guy ckumsily tried to unbutton his shirt, while she struglled to keep him still. He managed to get one open, she could see a silver chain dangling on his neck, some chest hair and smooth looking skin.

"You're gonna freeze, stop it!" She hissed ande grabbed him by his wrist. His hands were beautiful, fingers long and lean, decorated by several stylish rings.

The guy finally stopped moving and stared at her as if it was the first time. He was breathing heavy with his lips slightly parted, they were standing close now. His pupils were dialeted and eyes were unfocused but Asi could feel he was coming down off of what ever was running in his blood stream.

"You are so fucking pretty," he stated, there were no hint of any game, just observation.

Just when Asi was about to push him away the guy grimaced dropping his head on her shoulder. Their hands were trapped between thier chests and Asi heard a low groan. "I think I'm gonna puke."

Asi pushed him just in time and let him hold her arms as he moved forward and threw up on the ground.

"Its Alaz by the way," he said after coughing for almost a minute.

It was gonna be a long night.

bayramınız kutlu olsun 💕 eid mubarak to ones who are celebrating. i wish everyone a good time with your loved ones

#aslaz #yabani #my writing #alaz soysalan #bertan asllani #rojbin erden

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chthonic-cassandra · 6 months

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Recent books, fiction -

Emma Cline, The Girls - a teenage girl in the late 1960's ends up on the outer edges of a Manson-like (very closely Manson-like) cult. This was okay, but not great, falling too often into cliches about teenage girlhood and lacking a sharp understanding of cult dynamics. By basing the fictional cult in the novel so closely on Charles Manson's Cline gets to handwave a bunch of things about how and why it works, but the seams in the construction show through anyway; Cline's understanding about what leads people to join and stay in these kinds of groups, and how the internal dynamics function, seemed to me persistently surface-level. The strongest part of the novel is the protagonist's potent desire for one of the closest inner circle girls in the cult, which is the reason she becomes entangled much more than any draw from the cult leader himself. There was something interesting there, if Cline had focused on it, and something interesting too in the hints about our protagonist's solitary experiences of lesbian masochistic desire, but this thread was resolved in a way that felt to me disappointingly simplistic. The hints about our protagonist's adulthood following her experience of the cult are also flat, without the messiness of what it can mean to survive that experience. Worth reading as an example of a fictional depiction of organized abuse, but not a great one.

Mona Simpson, Commitment - family saga novel following three siblings as they make lives for themselves following their mother's depressive breakdown and institutionalization in the early 1970's. This had some flashes of clarity and insight, but fizzled out quickly into banality. There were some things that Simpson wanted to say about pragmatism vs making art, and about living in fear of mental illness, but it all got sanded down. The depiction of 'mental illness' is also two dimensional at best. This suffered especially for me in proximity to a recent read-through of The Frederica Quartet, which deals with some similar themes with an incomparably greater level of complexity and beauty. While this novel wasn't terrible, the fact of how lauded it has been made me feel cynical about the state of contemporary literary fiction.

Dion Fortune, Moon Magic - a hilarious but less than successful chapter in my weird journey of reading Fortune's fiction work. Like The Sea Priestess, to which it is a loose sequel, this novel centers around a blatant Dion Fortune self-insert initiating a repressed professional man into sexualized spiritual enlightenment. Unlike The Sea Priestess, Moon Magic is told largely from the point of view of said Dion Fortune self-insert, which brings the narcissism levels up to the nearly intolerable. Left unfinished at Fortune's death, the final chapter was written by her friends which was also not a great choice.

Melody Razak, Moth - a left-leaning, intellectual family in Delhi struggles to cope with the cataclysmic violence of partition. Stepping back from this book there are elements of it, and of the way each character was drawn, which I appreciate, but I felt consistently uneasy reading it, so much that I put it aside for a week in the middle, which is unusual for me. There was something about Razak's narrative gaze which felt exoticizing in its hazy simplicity; this maybe has to do with her conviction to "tell the untold stories" of women who experienced violence during partition, which I don't think is ever a great way to go into a fiction project for reasons I have written about elsewhere. However, the intensely brutal violence of the final section of the book somehow landed for me more as a reader; I don't actually know how I feel about the representational ethics of it, but something about the extremity brought it to a narratively more effective place. I'm still trying to sort through why.

Stacey D'Erasmo, The Complicities - after her husband's conviction for fraudulent business practices, a woman moves to a town in New England, opens a massage practice, and gets emotionally involved with a beached whale. Ugh. This was very bad, and I don't know how it ended up on my to-read list. Flat, simplistic prose style, irritating narrative voice, unlikable characters. Whatever.

Kikuo Tsumura, There's No Such Thing As an Easy Job (trans. Polly Barton) - genuinely hilarious satire on Japanese capitalist culture. A young woman, burnt out on her previous job (the nature of which isn't revealed until the end, which was an effective choice for me and so I'm not spoiling it), seeks to find a form of employment that will require the least possible from her intellectually and emotionally, ending up in increasing surreal work situations. This kind of book often doesn't work for me (I'm not a big humor person), but this was sharp and understated and very good. The section at the cracker factory in particular had me trying ineffectively to explain its hilarity to people around me. Recommended.

Catherine Lacey, Biography of X - in an AU United States where the southern states seceded in the mid-twentieth century, a newly widowed woman attempts to find out the truth about her wife, a notoriously secretive and manipulative artist. This was ambitious in its metafictional conceit and had a premise that intrigued but ultimately didn't live up to its promise. The world-building of Lacey's AU felt implausible and insufficiently developed; there were so many aspects of it that didn't land, like the distracting use of real-life figures or the total lack of critical analysis around race and gender. If the AU premise had been removed and the focus kept tighter on the central relationship it might have worked, but there too we just didn't have enough to go off of. This mostly just made me wish I was rereading Siri Hutvedt's The Blazing World, a much, much stronger metafictional depiction of a female artist, which maybe I should do.

Mariana Enríquez, Our Share of the Night - in Argentina during the period of military dictatorship, a young father attempts to save his son from the abusive group of which he has been a part since childhood. I loved this book so so very much. As a horror novel, as a depiction of organized abuse and intergenerational trauma, as a representation of the ways that state and interpersonal violence repeat and mirror. It's not a perfect book - I think that the last third could be tightened and shifted in certain ways - but what it's doing is so strong and specific that I don't mind. I sort of want to buy a copy and reread it right away. Strongly recommended, with the content note that it is a very emotionally plausible and unsparing depiction of its subject material.

#books #trauma frameworks

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blueeyedheizer · 2 years

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✯ QUIET

pairing: Cassie Howard x Reader

summary: Cassie is not as quiet as she thinks she is.

content warning: oral sex, semi-public sex?? idk, porn without plot

a/n: I haven't written smut since forever so,, hopefully this isn't too bad. Also, I am violently gay for Cassie Howard. That's quite literally all I have to say in my defense

gif : madelyn-cline

The party downstairs is in full swing, the loud music muffled behind the closed door.

Your hands are resting around Cassie's waist, tugging her closer as she pulls on the hair at the back of your neck; her lips are hungry against yours, fast and urgent.

The two of you have been dating for a couple months now, having mutually decided to keep the relationship a secret so as to not give people at school anything to taunt you with. The only person who knows about it is Lexi, and you both trust her enough to know she won't tell a soul. The last thing all three of you want is for yours and Cassie's relationship to become the next topic of yet another high school scandal.

It does help that you have been best friends well before you started dating. It wasn't unusual to see you together all the time, therefore the two of you could easily leave a room full of people you knew without it looking suspicious.

The only thing that could — and probably will, one of these days, give the two of you away, is Cassie's loudness. As flattering as it is in the intimacy of your room when you're alone, it's a lot more inconvenient in moments like these.

"I'm not that loud, stop exaggerating." Cassie pouts, kiss-swollen lips quickly seeking yours again. Laughing, you take her lower lip between your teeth, giving it a firm tug before releasing it.

“All i'm saying is, you’re not as quiet as you think you are.” You murmur, getting down on your knees in front of her. You smile up at her, your hands starting to rub up and down her bare legs, a slight pressure applied to keep her pinned against the door. Then you reach underneath her dress to hook your fingers into the hem of her panties, pressing a kiss to her covered stomach. "And you know i'm right." You don't break eye contact as you pull her panties down to her ankles and off her entirely.

"I can be quiet." she insists. You can't help but chuckle upon noticing the way her chest starts to rise with heavier breaths of anticipation.

"Wanna bet? You think you can keep your pretty moans down while I take care of you?"

Cassie nods, a soft spoken 'yes' passing her lips you as inch closer, your hands rubbing up and down the back of her thighs and squeezing her ass before giving her dress a slight tug. “Take this off."

Obediently, Cassie reaches behind her back to unzip her dress, slowly pushing the whole thing down the length of her body with ease and stepping out of it, leaving her in nothing but her white lace bra.

Immediately, you help her lift her leg to place it over your shoulder, slowly kissing up the length of it starting from her ankle, going past her knee, all the way up to her inner thigh and the little patch of trimmed pubic hair between her legs.

"I've missed this. Missed you."

And just like that, you're flattening your tongue to take a slow lick up her slit, your eyes fluttering shut in delight. You moan at the taste and take another lick, and then another, a thin line of spit mixed with her arousal connecting your tongue to her pussy.

Cassie's head hits the door with a thud as one of her hands tangles in your hair, the other sliding up her flushed body to grasp her breast and tug on a nipple underneath the cup of her bra. A flow of whimpers and small uh uh sounds escape her slightly parted lips as you move your tongue around and graze her clit.

"Shh. I know, baby. I've got you." you mumble, your mouth leaving her core so you can run your finger along her folds, gathering her arousal and smearing it around. "But you've gotta be quiet, remember?"

"You tease too much." Cassie pouts, her hips bucking to try and meet your mouth again. You chuckle.

"You know you like it." you say, the words murmured lowly as you skim your palms over her thighs. Cassie whines, her hips bucking slightly as you tease her entrance, dipping a finger in just slightly before pushing in, thrusting it in slow, steady movements. Cassie gasps, her eyes screwing shut as a hand flies to cover her mouth.

"That's it. Such a good girl for me." you praise before diving back in, sealing your lips around her clit and sucking, only letting go to stimulate her with quick soothing flicks of your tongue.

Unsurprisingly, the room quickly fills with increasingly loud moans and whimpers. Cassie can't stop writhing under your mouth; her hands sliding up and down her body, scraping against whatever bare skin she can find while her back arches off the door.

"Cassie." you warn. Cassie feels the vibration of your voice directly on her clit, which sends her into small spasms.

"Don't stop—" She bites down on her lip, ignoring your warning and frowning deeply as her hand fists in your hair. It's clear that she's lost herself in the feeling, her hips lifting, begging for more of your touch.

"Quiet."

"I am being quiet!” Cassie suddenly hisses, raising her voice slightly. Your tongue and finger still. You laugh. And you get back on your feet, pushing her leg off your shoulder.

Cassie's eyes widen, a weak 'what? no!' passing her lips as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and reach for the doorknob, pretending to leave. She lets out a sob and grabs your hand, clenching her thighs together.

"Please." she begs, her eyes filling up with tears of frustration. "I'm sorry. I'll be quiet, I promise. Please, stay."

Your hand reaches to touch her face, index finger following the line of her jaw. "You don't want to get caught, do you?" you murmur, pecking her lips softly. Cassie shakes her head. "Then be. quiet."

You make yourself at home between her thighs again, wasting no time in working her relentlessly; licking, sucking, swirling your tongue around as Cassie rocks her hips against your face, her hands clutching at your hair desperately.

She's trying so hard to be quiet but she can’t help it, can’t control her little gasps and whines as you hum against her, your tongue spelling out the letters of your name and marking her yours as she comes.

#cassie howard x reader #cassie howard smut #cassie howard imagine #cassie howard x fem!reader #cassie howard fanfic #cassie howard #euphoria x reader #euphoria imagine #euphoria smut

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wagingmywarsbehindmyface · 1 year

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Jonah’s Upcoming Projects 🎬

RICH FLU (dir. Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia) - thriller (post-production)

Explores how far people would go to save themselves when the wealth that made the world go round then becomes its most dangerous commodity after a strange disease threatens to kill anyone with any sort of fortune.

A BEAUTIFUL IMPERFECTION (dir. Michiel van Erp) - drama (2024)

🧍‍♂️Giacomo Casanova

The passionate story of the life and love of Lucia, a renowned veiled courtesan who is the exception to the rule.

FABIO D’ANDREA: ONE SMALL STEP - short (Jonah plays The Astronaut)

WILLIAM TELL (dir. Nick Hamm) - historical film

🧍‍♂️Rudenz

The film is set in 14th Century Switzerland, where a once peaceful hunter leads his people to rebellion after his family and country are threatened by a tyrannical Austrian King. The year is 1307 and the Holy Roman Empire is crumbling. As its grip on Europe loosens, new dynasties such as the Austrian Habsburg Family encroach on new lands, desperate for power. In Switzerland, the once peaceful country is overwhelmed and bows under the Austrian might as it advances and upends the quiet lives of the Swiss peasants

THE THREESOME (dir. Chad Hartigan) - a romantic comedy (date TBA)

🧍‍♂️Connor Blake

The movie showcases the story of a boy, Connor, who gradually begins to find his way into a relationship with the girl he’s been in love with his whole life, Olivia. That sounds great and everything, except he’s just had a one-night stand with someone else… and that may complicate things. That’s only the beginning of a complicated yet funny journey that explores trust, responsibility and the true nature of love.

DOCTOR WHO (2025)

🧍‍♂️Conrad

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER (dir. Jennifer Kaytin Robinson) - horror/mystery (the release is set on July 18th 2025)

the reboot of the iconic 90s horror with the new cast Camila Mendes, Madelyn Cline, Sarah Pidgeon, Tyriq Withers, and Jonah Hauer-King. The original film followed four young friends bound by a tragic accident who are reunited when they find themselves being stalked by a hook-wielding maniac. The film became a cult classic, earned over $125 million worldwide and led to the sequel “I Still Know What You Did Last Summer.” Original stars Freddie Prinze Jr. and Jennifer Love Hewitt are in talks to return.

🧍‍♂️TBA

THE EDEN EXPRESS (dir. Daniel Cockburn)

The film follows Mark Vonnegut’s 1970 quest, alongside his girlfriend Virge and a group of friends. to escape Nixon’s America to find a better way of life on a British Columbia commune. It’s a place they hope will be an “Eden” on Earth. However, as this new utopia comes into focus, Mark starts to hear voices and see visions that give him ominous instructions, marking the start of his journey with bipolar disorder.

🧍‍♂️ MARK VONNEGUT

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palmofafreezinghand · 2 months

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closer walk with thee

on ao3 here.

April 8, 2007.

Patsy Cline’s “Just A Closer Walk With Thee” drifted out of the couple’s bedroom. Their son quietly hummed along on the floor below, as he entertained his daughter’s pleas to “play Barbies.”

Carlisle stepped out of his socks, kicking them into the hamper. He missed and the soiled hosiery landed two inches away on the floor, next to four other pairs of socks who had met the same fate. His wife sighed from their bathroom and he hurriedly scooped the socks and an embarrassing amount of his other garments into the hamper, presuming her sigh was due to his messiness. A line from a fight three decades prior echoed through his mind ‘Do you like this scarf? The next time I find it on the floor it becomes kindling.’

He glanced across their room, into the en suite, and was met with the sight of his wife contorting her body like a circus freak. She was attempting to finish buttoning her dress, kept twisting to see herself in the mirror as if sight would help her inability to reach between her own shoulder blades. The button would make its way halfway through the loop and then come undone, resulting in a sigh or groan and a reposition of her body. Her neck craned unnaturally, a vision of her head bobbing unnaturally as he raced from a morgue, countless spine fractures making her body like a dish he now knew by the brand name “Jello.”

“May I offer assistance?” He asked after watching for far longer than any true gentleman would.

Her head snapped toward him, shoulders falling in defeat. “How long were you going to watch me struggle?” She huffed, watching as he made his way across the room.

“I thought any longer would be cruel,” he said, motioning for her to turn.

He gathered her hair that reeked like Super-Hold Aqua Net hairspray in his hand and gently brushed it over her shoulder. He guided the last three troublesome buttons into place. “Although you must admit it was an entertaining sight.”

“I am glad my husband finds my pain amusing,” she sighed theatrically. It was truly a mystery where Edward got his dramatics from, an absolute mystery.

Carlisle shook his head fondly, scooping her hair back over her shoulder, and straightening one of the curls that had shifted in his movements.

She smiled at him in the mirror before turning to face him, arms threading around his waist. “Thank you for your assistance, Doctor.”

“I live to serve,” he said, meeting her unspoken request for a kiss.

“This is new,” Carlisle said after a minute, rubbing the brown patterned fabric between his index and thumb. “It’s quite flattering.”

“I bought it in 1962,” she frowned, causing the somehow-still endearing crease between her brows.

“You must not have worn it in front of me before.”

“You’ve taken it off me at least two dozen times.”

He pressed his lips together, thinking back over four decades for any memory of the green dress. Nothing. “I put up with those buttons?”

“Barely,” she laughed, her arms tightening around his waist. “I have replaced almost all of them at this point.”

That sounded right.

“Care to make it two dozen and one?” He grinned, hand moving from her waist to her back, fingers finding the bottom button of her dress over the small of her back. “I’ll be very careful,” he whispered.

“You said that last time,” she laughed as he used his free hand to brush her hair away from her neck. He leaned down to place a kiss over a scar of his own teeth.

He was vaguely aware at least three of their housemates were home and in supernatural earshot and yet he could not find the strength to care.

“Carlisle, stop,” she said no louder than a whisper, a hand pressed to his chest. He dropped his hands from her body, taking a step back, her arms around his waist stopped him. A subtle shake of her head, a silent communication to attempt to stop his fretting. “I was meaning to ask you for something,” she said tentatively, refusing to make eye contact, gaze fixed on the tip of his nose.

If it was not mind-boggling irritating her hesitancy to ever make a request of any size might be considered charming. She must have known, at least subconsciously, he was happy to be at her beck and call. For heaven’s sake, she owned an island.

Over the years he had learned teasing her about her resistance to ever advocate for herself was far more fun than fighting.

“You know, I might be more amenable if you let me take off—”

“Carlisle.” Her tone was only a smidgen more stern than before, but it was enough.

“What did you wish to ask me?” He asked, as she let go of him, turning back to the cosmetics strewn across their counter.

She leaned across the sink to look at her reflection, brushing the corner of her mouth with her thumb. “May I…”

“Yes.”

“Carlisle.” He could practically hear her eyes roll as she picked up her gold tube of lipstick.

“Esme,” he grinned, taking a seat on an empty space of the counter.

“May I borrow your automobile?”

“No.”

The lipstick clattered against the marble countertop as she dropped it. “Oh. Of course, I understand,” she said quietly.

“You can not borrow something your name is on the title of, love.” He lightly poked her side with his foot.

“You are just awful. Is that a yes I may use the black car sitting in our garage or do you have plans to use it?”

“Charlie Swan invited me to watch the Red Sox play the Rangers this afternoon, but I can borrow Edward’s car if you’re not back.”

“I should be back by noon,” she said, dropping the lipstick tube into her purse. “But don’t call a search party until two.”

“Where are you going?” He asked, feet kicking mindlessly.

“Uhm… I’m—” Her eyes widened. ‘Deer in the sights of a vampire,’ Edward had nicknamed this specific look of Esme’s, long before the phrase ‘deer in headlights’ entered the human lexicon. It was a look he had seen countless times, they were back in the twenties navigating the aftermath of a husband who interrogated, accused, and blamed. A man he would rather die than ever be similar to, and yet here they were.

“You do not have to tell me,” Carlisle said. “I was merely curious.”

“It is your best trait,” she smiled gratefully.

“Some have claimed it is my most irritating.”

“Not me,” she said, stepping between his legs, purse on her shoulder.

“No, never you. I love you.”

“I love you more,” she said, giving him a quick peck and stepping away.

“Impossible,” he said, watching as she headed out of the room. She scoffed as their bedroom door clicked close.

April 15, 2007.

At eight thirty Esme walked into the family room. Hands at the nape of her neck, a metallic clink of a necklace closure failing to be fastened.

She sat on the arm of Carlisle’s armchair, he instinctively rested his book on his knee, leaning forward and hooking the clasp before she could ask.

“Thank you,” she smiled, glancing back at him. “May I borro- use the car again today?”

“Of course, love. Have fun.”

“You got a hot date?” Emmett asked from his prototype-tabletop version of Battleship he had been fiddling around with since the eighties. Carlisle had redlined Emmett’s life-size version of the game, claiming that it was simply war under a fun name.

“Oh yeah,” Esme said dryly. She turned to her husband. “I am kidding.”

“I know. I believe Emmett was as well.”

“I’ve seen the way she looks at Colin Firth.”

April 18, 2007.

The request came at five in the evening, on a Wednesday, disrupting any pattern Carlisle had been using to form his theories.

April 22, 2007.

“Will you be using the car today?” Carlisle asked, passing his wife in the downstairs hallway.

“If you do not mind,” she said.

“I do not. The keys are in the center console,” he smiled, kissed her on the cheek, and kept walking down the hall, glancing over his shoulder to watch her leave.

April 29, 2007.

“You have a full tank of gas and a fresh detail,” Carlisle said, tossing his keys across the living room to his wife standing in the doorway.

“Thank you, love,” she smiled, opening the door to the garage.

“Have fun,” he called after her, returning his attention back to the twenty-five open tabs on his laptop.

“I must say I am impressed,” Rosalie said, once the sound of the car was well out of earshot. She was sitting on the living room floor. The coffee table was covered in wires and panels, her latest project of wiring Renesmee’s dollhouse.

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t pestered her with your usual overbearing incessant questions about where she’s going.”

“Have you considered that I could be growing into a supportive, non-invasive husband who celebrates his wife’s independence?”

“You can’t even say that with a straight face,” Rosalie laughed. “She doesn’t even own a car.”

“It did sound a tad far-fetched.”

“So why the sudden… lack of curiosity?”

“I know where she is.”

“She told you? I’ve been trying to get her to spill for weeks and she keeps lying.”

“No, I simply know my wife.”

“She’s having an affair,” Rosalie said definitively.

“No.”

“It’s alright, Carlisle. We all knew this day would come. Is he a charming British man with aggressive sideburns?”

“Ha, ha. She said Colin Firth was handsome one time and I will never live it down.”

“Are we talking about Esme’s affair?” Emmett asked, appearing in the room in a flash as soon as the conversation turned into teasing Carlisle.

“Yes,” Rosalie said.

“No,” Carlisle said.

“I think it’s a guy like those books of hers, the ones with the hair to their waist and the see through shirts,” Emmett theorized, plopping down on the floor next to Rosalie.

“Oh, oh! Or a construction worker with the vest, and the little shorts,” Rosalie added. “Like in the Village People.”

“Maybe it’s Officer Swan!” Emmett shouted in revelation.

“Yes!” Rosalie grinned, grabbing Emmett’s arm.

“That would give Edward a complex,” Emmett laughed.

“Give?”

“A bigger one. Him and Bella would be step-siblings.”

“Are you two done?” Carlisle asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Not yet,” Rosalie said, turning her attention back to Emmett. “Do you think they’d get divorced or just deal with the weirdness?”

“No one is getting divorced,” Carlisle sighed. “Is it inconceivable to you two that my wife may never cheat on me?”

“No, just disappointing,” Rosalie said, wrinkling her nose.

“So where is she?” Emmett asked.

Carlisle just shrugged, returning back to his laptop.

April 29, 2007.

She pulled the well-worn Bible out of her purse. The leather gaped from the spine against her hand as she flipped through the thin pages. It would need to be reglued, yet again. Carlisle, bless his heart, had tried to convince her into using a fresher copy dozens of times. ‘Es, it is not inconspicuous to read from an antique in public,’ he had argued, offering her a freshly printed book.

That had been back when she attended the rare church service without argument. It felt like a lifetime ago when she naively believed suffering was part of a greater plan. What a crock of bull that had been.

When her husband started to suspect her faith was waning — years after her doubts first arose — he had attempted to lure her back in with a beautifully illustrated copy of The Holy Bible. The images were light, hopeful, promising. A version of faith starkly different from the fire and brimstone illustrations that lived in the antiques he hoarded. It was stunning, and a world she yearned to live in, to once again believe in.

Nothing could convince her to abandon the pieces of paper that had seen her through eighty-six years. The passages had heard her wails. The margins of the Book of Job where she had hastily scrawled “what a monster.” The pages had listened as she prayed over those she loved so dearly, yet never herself.

As she flipped the pages a piece of paper fell out, a comforting cursive in blue ink greeted her.

‘This verse is one I revisit often. I pray you find what you seek. If that is ever me I am at your beck and call. I love you. Faithfully yours, C. P.S. Tell Buddy I say hello.’’

She ran her finger over the nickname he had made for a boy he never had the chance to meet. Every once in a while, he unintentionally gave her a reminder she was married to an absolute marvel of a man who made believing just a little bit easier.

May 6, 2007.

“Es,” Carlisle said, stopping outside of their bathroom.“I filled-”

“Come in,” she called over the running shower.

He did as instructed, briefly glancing at the marvelous sight in the shower before turning his attention away, like the gentleman he pretended to be.

“Would you like to join me?” She asked, glancing over shoulder as she scrubbed shampoo into her scalp.

“Yes,” he responded immediately, already starting to undo his shirt buttons.

“I meant to church,” she laughed as the shower door opened. “But this works too.”

“Oh. I would like that very much,” he said, turning on the second shower head. His hand rested on her hip as he stepped by her.

“No funny business, we are on a strict schedule.”

“Yes, Mrs. Cullen,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes, pumping a dollop of shampoo into her hand, motioning for him to bend down. “Are you positive you are fine with me going?” Carlisle asked, closing his eyes as she scrubbed his hair.

“Yes. On one condition.”

“You’re not Catholic are you?”

“Not yet,” she smiled, pushing him into the water stream. “Much to Eleazar’s disappointment.”

“Then I will agree to any cond— you’re not Baptist?”

“Heavens, no,” she said, scrubbing out the last of her shampoo.

“Then anything,” he said.

“You may not make fun of the pastor.”

“But what if I think he’s an imbecile,” he sighed as he began to coat the ends of her hair in conditioner.

“You will think she is.”

“She?”

“Yes, women can preach now. Believe it or not we can also vote, drive a car, and open a bank account of our own,” she said flatly, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Will that be a problem?”

“I will be nothing but polite during the service,” he promised, holding his hand over his chest.

“You better. I like this place.”

They fell into comfortable silence, moving about the rest of the shower like a practiced dance.

He yearned to ask “why now,” after everything she had been through, after swearing off God as a bastard twenty years prior. But he knew, without speaking a word. He had known for eighty-six years. From the moment she asked “How would any God believe a child is better with him than their mother?” It was the question she was perpetually chasing.

“How did you figure it out?” Esme asked after a few minutes, shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower.

“I am a good, attentive husband who knows you better than you know yourself.” She raised a brow. “You left your tape in the stereo,” he admitted, grabbing his towel.

“Damn,” she muttered.

“I believe you are the only person in the world who still listens to Tammy Faye Bakker.”

“I do not believe in making women answer for their husband’s sins.”

“Is that not what marriage is? ‘And the two shall be one flesh.’ Yours sins are mine, mine are…” He caught her expression in the mirror, “mine.”

“You’re never making it up there then,” she laughed, but there was an undertone of something darker.

“Is that what this is about?”

“I do not think so. Maybe,” she shrugged, wrapping her hair in a towel. “Probably. I don’t know. It’s just… recently, with,” she paused for a moment then mouthed ‘Renesmee’, “and everything else. It’s all just hard. I thought, naively, this might make it easier.”

“I think that’s called faith, love,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he walked towards the closet.

“A woman pastor?” He asked himself as he fished a fresh pair of socks out of his dresser.

“Hush,” she lovingly chastised from the other room as her hair dryer clicked on.

"I take it I will not be invited to Bible Study on Wednesdays?" He called from the closet.

"No, I have my affair on Wednesdays," she laughed. What a joyful sound, despite his best efforts he was soon laughing too.

#esme culllen #carlisle cullen #my stories

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