dominikgarban

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader | p. 8

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

a/n I'm so sorry for the hiatus. My mental health isn't where it should be, and my brain isn't in writing mode. I finally got this written down, and I left it alone for a while until I felt a bit more creative again. Hopefully, this chapter is good enough. Love you all!

-> <-

June 1983 . . . again

It’s so silly to be upset about something as ridiculous as a birthday. Big deal! You’ve had plenty of those in the past.

This morning you crumpled up a piece of paper taped to your fridge into a tight enough ball that your fingers began to pierce the flesh of your hands. Then, you toss the stupid note into the trash. Your mom left again. This time she and Brad are going to his vacation house.

Brad is yet another nobody she met after her shift at the strip joint in the sketchy part of town. Rich men flock to escape unhappy marriages, and pray on the poor sad strippers. Your mom keeps having too much hope that one of these men will pay-out and he will buy her a big fancy house. Unfortunately for her, their ruse will always draw her in. She does a few lines with them, and lays on her back for less than she’s worth. How could she even bring herself to this?

Eddie does try to cheer you up when he shows up to your house for the annual birthday celebration and the lights are dim throughout the house, and you’re slumped over your sofa like a deflated balloon. Somehow he coaxes you to get off of that couch. He encourages you to get yourself dressed by handing you shirts and handing you pants until he gets a grunt of approval out of you.

After you put on your clothes, you’re practically carried out to his van. You hesitate. After your mom swore something bad would happen if you get into his van, you’ve been sneaking rides now and again. Eddie’s also been giving you lessons when she’s not around. You frown. Gripping the handle tight, and with purpose, you swing open the passenger side door.

“Yes!” Eddie pats the seat next to him. Your boldened confidence sparks joy in him. That is until you give him the meanest mug known to man. And, you don’t mean to be harsh. You actually don’t realize that Eddie’s heart sinks when you grouch like this.

Rubber hitting gravel tunes out your huffing and puffing. When you hit the pavement, the shocks thud underneath you. Eddie says he’ll fix those eventually. He can’t fix the band equipment rolling in the back though. That’s something that just happens because he’s the only one in the band with a big enough rig to store all of this junk.

“I forgot to ask if you’re hungry,” Eddie says over the gray cloud covering your head.

You thunk your head against the window. It’s nearly eleven in the morning, and you haven’t had anything to eat. You’re not hungry. But, your stomach disagrees letting out the most aggravating groan. Why do bodies do that? The moment that someone mentions food, or when the room gets quiet - your stomach growls. It’s humiliating!

“I could eat,” you hold your stomach.

The way through to you is almost always food, or a brand new book. Eddie doesn’t have the time to drive all the way to Indianapolis to get you books from The Bookshelf, which is your favorite place to receive books from (or so Eddie can guess because he hasn’t gotten you anything you hate yet). So, he instead takes you to the next best place; Benny’s Diner.

It’s a hot spot. That’s mostly because it has been almost the only spot since ‘53. Yes, you’ve heard enough of Wayne’s stories from his younger years. He and his brother, Al, spent enough time downing milkshakes and getting brain freezes there. A part of you wants to ask Eddie more about his father, and if he is truly as bad as this town says he is. Eddie pretends not to recall a lot of his youth that was spent with his father, but behind those big brown eyes he’s got stories he could tell if he wanted too.

You slide your way into a booth across from Eddie after being seated by a snooty waitress with low hanging jowls and no patience for the teenagers, who, arguably, gives Benny’s the most buisness.

Some jock from the basketball team clambers over the back of the booth like a monkey to scoop fries off an innocent girl’s plate. Rightfully so, she swats at him, then aims a bottle of ketchup at his nose.

“Hey Wheeler,” the man dubbed ‘King Steve Harrington’ cups his hands around his mouth like a bird call to get the attention of Nancy Wheeler, who is just a booth and a half away with a thick chapter book between her fingertips.

Nancy meekly looks up without saying a word.

“It’s summer time,” he snorts. “What are you reading for?”

Tommy, another bone-head, clocks Steve in the shoulder with an open palm. This seems to encourage Steve’s prepubescent behavior. And, Steve jogs over to the table to bother Nancy some more.

What more is there to say about Steve? Steve Harrington. The man had enough brain cells to form one thought, and that was usually “party at my house!” Yes, after every basketball game that the Tigers won (which is a lot of games to be fair), you could find almost every member of the student body at his house.

It seems that Steve doesn’t care that his parents are never home. You wonder what they do to live in such a cushy house that’s bigger than most of the houses combined in Hawkins. Maybe you wouldn’t mind living like this if your family was rich too.

“What can I get you?” The waitress holds her pad of paper in one hand, and a sparkling red pen in the other. She puts all of her weight on one hip, so she can tap the other foot on the tile below. Her patience is running thin, and those kids on the other side of the restaurant are really starting to make her angry.

You speed through the menu, “strawberry milkshake and fries.”

Eddie orders a burger that he asks to be left a little bloody. When she glares at him, he moves on to order a vanilla milkshake without a wince when she snatches his menu from his hands.

Usually, Eddie will order some kind of burger that he has to add extra bacon and extra onions on top of. His favorite line is usually “bloody and stinky.”

If you weren’t feeling so bummed about your birthday, you might ask him if he’s on a diet. That always revs him up to push his stomach out and to talk with his belly button. Sometimes Eddie can be so childish - and really, you find him funny.

Today you wanted to be under five feet of dirt. You could finally get some peace and quiet after all that humming and worrying that goes on in between your ears. Your mom should be worried about you - not the other way around.

Eddie watches you become the booth behind you. Someone might as well have thrown water on you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you started sobbing ‘I’m melting!’ right about now. Not like he’s seen the Wizard of Oz or anything. It’s not important enough to ever be mentioned out loud.

“Happy birthday?” Eddie tries to cheer you up. “Look, I know it’s not a cake and some candles. I don’t know. My dad and I never celebrated my birthday, and look how I turned out.”

You try not to be mean, so you let a sarcastic comment slide off your tongue. “You have tobacco in your teeth.”

The habit Eddie promises himself to quit. It’s just cigarettes, weed and the occasional sip of beer or two (or downing half a case by himself) for him. He’s got to stay healthy if he wants to make it to fifty. That’s high balling his life span. Okay, let’s say Corroded Coffin makes the big leagues in a couple of years, and Eddie at least wants ten good years with them - thirty. Thirty years is well enough for Eddie Munson. Er- that math isn’t right. Is it?

Eddie sucks the tobacco leaves out from his teeth, while you pick at the napkin in front of you. Seeing you so down nearly tears him in two. Having an absent parent himself, he knows the disappointment that’s eating you from the inside out. For years, Eddie would wake up in hopes that his dad would just show up completely sober. If he’s really optimistic that day, then his mom would come too. They’d be a big happy family and live in the suburbs. There would even be space for uncle Wayne.

Eddie knows the fantasy is just that. But, it isn’t about him. Your head is nearly touching the table, and he’s not so sure how to fix this. There isn’t really a way to fix this, is there?

The waitress returns with two shakes that she places down in front of you. A straw emerges from her apron pocket. She leaves you.

Your milkshake is questionably pink, but the real chunks of strawberries pressing against the glass make you forget what you’re about to consume. A glass of whatever the chefs get in those prepackaged containers that come in powdery. With a little mix of some milk, you’ll hardly taste the chemicals. with chunks of strawberries pressing against the glass. A wedge of whipped cream towers atop the shake with a strawberry dipped right on top.

Something that Eddie realized recently is how bright your eyes get when you’re excited. Inflating like a balloon, you sit straight up to stick the straw into the thick shake. Your lips kiss the straw without much thought, as Eddie begins to drift away from the restaurant.

In front of him, Eddie could dive deep into why he’s chosen you as his best friend. Because at first Wayne was just babysitting the neighbor kid and you could have easily been ignored from the next day after. Eddie finds you interesting.

Your lashes flutter away from him to the space behind him. As though in slow motion, his fantasy snaps.

“Jeff!” The sugar has already rushed to your brain in the absence of food, and in a fog you hiccup, “Hi, Gareth!”

Eddie whips around in time, before the two boys get too close to the booth. Their clothes are sticking to their bodies, and a fair amount of sweat graces their foreheads. Aside from being sticky, their mood is pleasant. Jeff tucks a helmet under his arm, as he approaches in a cool step.

Gareth swipes the sweat from his brow because really the hair sticking to him makes him itch, before causing a rash due to him mindlessly scratching his forehead off. He resists the tempting sting.

Meanwhile, Gareth also refuses to admit that the reason he stopped Jeff on their bike ride into town is because you’re sitting at a booth across from Eddie. Despite knowing how close you are as friends, there’s a grumpy troll deep in his belly that’s stomping on his gut that tells him to ‘just make sure.’ He rolls his shoulders back, and begs his face to quit frowning.

“Who knew the circus was in town?” Jason Carver cups his hands around his mouth. “Freaks!”

Chrissy Cunningham whacks him across the chest for being rude. As much as she likes Jason, his attitude towards the nerdy group that they all share the same high school with does really bother her. She puts up with him because she’s already introduced him to her parents, and maybe in a few years he’ll calm down.

While Jeff, Eddie and Gareth are more or less used to the treatment they receive from the goon squad, you can’t help but notice the way Gareth shoots a glare behind himself. This goes ignored by Jason, as one of the girls at the table has a spilled her soda. Surely, Jason would have caught the venomous stare and thrown Gareth halfway across the room. You don’t go looking for that sorry of trouble.

“‘Sup!” Jeff greats Eddie and yourself. “What are you two up too?”

“It’s her birthday,” even though he does like Jeff and Gareth, Eddie wishes the boys could take a hint and scram. Jeff has other intentions and does the polar opposite by plopping down nearly on Eddie’s lap.

“Happy birthday, girl!” Jeff wishes. “Got any big plans for the day?”

You shrug, “my mom is out of town, so I don’t really have anything going on.”

“What’s she out of town for?” The boy scrunches his nose up, and Eddie elbows him in the side. A desperate attempt on his part to get Jeff to shut-the-hell-up. “Business?”

“Sort of,” if only the business your mom conducted brought more money back to the house, instead of drugs.

A tickle lifts inside your throat that you swallow down. Perhaps the glossiness in your eyes could be hidden behind your lashes, and suddenly your drink becomes a lot more interesting. Flicking the condensation on the glass, Jeff leans over to whisper to Eddie about something.

“Gareth,” Jeff turns to the boy standing awkwardly at the head of the table. He hasn’t dared sit next to you, yet. “Can you entertain the birthday girl? I gotta talk to Eddie about something out back.”

Gareth opens his mouth to protest, but the words die flat on his tongue because Jeff and Eddie have already scooted from the booths. Their “business” is a classic exchange. Gareth’s been apart of a few of these dealings. In some ways, Eddie’s a bit of a douche come pricing on his supplies.

Everyone at Hawkins has bitten into the apple per se. It’s only when they need him that Eddie’s treated decent. So, Gareth supposes Eddie has his reasons to up-charge certain clientele.

There’s no word as to why Gareth gets the treatment, but he supposes there’s a reason or two.

Someone loudly clears their throat behind Gareth. It’s the waitress from earlier holding two hot and heavy plates of food. Gareth apologizes to her rolling eyes, before sliding into the booth across from you without much thought. The waitress drops the food off, then without another word she scurries off back to the kitchen.

“Jesus,” Gareth stares at the grease pile in front of him. “What did Eddie order this time?”

“They definitely spat on that,” you question your fries. “You know Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah,” treating society like they treat him, as always.

Gareth pushes the plate to the right where the sun kisses the burger through the window. It doesn’t look any more appealing in the light than the shadows in front of him. The silence between you and he is filled with drumming that comes from Gareth tapping the table.

You offer him your fries just to get him to knock it off. It’s not annoying, but his fidgeting is making you just as anxious. The tension subsides when Gareth pops a fry into his mouth.

“Can I ask?” He swallows, before speaking.

You raise and drop your shoulders unsure you want to answer. But, Gareth takes this as permission.

“Your mom has been out of town for a while?” It slips as more of a question, but the statement is put out there. Your mom is an absent parent. The only one you have.

“She came home for a short time with-,” you don’t know why you’re still defending her. Maybe she’ll come around one day and she’ll realize how great having a child has been. Doubtfully, “her coworkers. Er- but she suddenly had to go out of town. Meetings.”

The coworkers in question are the bums that stay after hours to give her a reason to party. Lately, the parties have bled into the living room. You’re stuck holding out in your room until they sober up enough to slobber out onto the street like a pack of dogs on the loose.

Dogs behave better than them.

“Meetings,” Gareth repeats as a mutual agreement not to press anymore questions, then quickly pops another fry into this mouth. This time he misses the landing, and the fry darts off of his cheek.

It’s hard to remember when the two of you hardly got along. That Gareth had been stubborn enough to decide that you would become a distraction for Eddie and the band would suffer. It now seems that there’s a different storm brewing instead of the one before it.

You cover your mouth, but the sweet melody brushes past your lips. Gareth goes a bit pink in the face, as he covers up the glee that he has at least amused you today.

The diner has quieted by the large group of teenagers getting up, and leaving through the front door. Nancy stays at her table reading a chapter book, and is most certainly grateful they’ve all gone. She won’t admit to keeping Steve Harrington’s phone number, but she will tuck the napkin tight in her pocket.

Music plays overhead that you hadn’t heard when you first came in. It’s fifties. An appropriate theme for how old the diner looks. Bright red booths. Checkered floor. Stainless steel instead of gold metal. It’s classic.

Gareth watches your eye wander away from him, as he decides how he wants to pull your attention back in. If he didn’t know any better, Jeff and Eddie were taking a suspicious amount of time to get back. That’s not to say he’s complaining. Any time getting you away from Eddie is getting Gareth that much closer to becoming bolder about his intentions with you.

Your heart skips inside your chest when Gareth’s knee knock into yours underneath the table. In not so many words, you hear him out and you understand him. A bit of relief settles your belly, but not before another aggravated weight of tension.

Pavlov and his damn dogs! That familiar jingle of the front door has both Gareth and you scooting back in your chairs. The heat from his body fades away from you.

Eddie and Jeff return.

“I told you they wouldn’t kill each other,” Jeff snorts.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Actually,” Gareth stands, so Eddie could have his place in the booth again. “We should get going.”

“I got something to do later,” Jeff pats his left pocket at his hip. No one is as amused as he is by his joke, but you pity him a laugh.

Before they can leave, a hand swings out to grab Gareth by the wrist. Eddie’s got wild eyes and a goofy grin. The boy is devilish, but he’s not the devil.

“What?” Gareth raises his brow.

Eddie retracts his grasp, and instead replaces it for an open palm reaching towards Gareth. “You owe me ten.”

“Eddie,” you scold. “He didn’t even touch your burger and he only ate a bite off of my food.”

Over the last couple years, Eddie has gotten better and better at the theatrics. When your at school together, he has this little habit of standing on top of lunch tables. You’ve gotten cautious now, and you’ll move your lunch before he kicks goalie kicks it across the room. Does he practice these monologues? One will never know with him.

“Not for breakfast, sweetheart,” his tone is firm. You’ve never been ‘sweatheart’ before. Sure, you have nicknames for each other. That’s just - weird. “I saw you with Jeff the other day. Ten bucks, big boy.”

Jeff and Gareth smoke sometimes from the stash that Eddie gives Jeff. After upping the charge for Gareth, they have a method that outsmarts Eddie. Or, at least their method used to outsmart him. Despite flunking a few classes, Eddie’s quick as a whip in his street smarts. There’s no getting around him!

“Come on,” Gareth protests, but reaches around for his wallet. “You can’t share amongst your good friends?”

“There’s nothing in the rules that says you can’t,” Eddie explains, “but, when you’re explicitly smoking from him to snag a free deal - Gareth, I feel duped!”

“Eddie,” you scold with open palms face down on the table. “It’s my birthday, and you can’t torture my friends on my birthday.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “it’s Gareth.”

You’re stone cold. That look might just pop Eddie’s head clear off. When did you give a shit about Gareth?

There hasn’t been a time yet that you’ve expressed any concern over Gareth. Jeff - yes. There was the time that Jeff had a paper due, you went through his mistakes in red ink, so that he could make corrections. You’re really good at writing. You should be with all the time you’re stuck in those notebooks writing away, and never letting anyone take a peak. Or, when Jeff needed to learn how to bake cookies for his Home Ec final. You were there too. But Gareth? Were you ill?

Eddie’s expression softens as he releases Gareth.

“Fine,” he sighs, “I’ll let it go.”

Gareth isn’t quite sure if he should thank you in front of Jeff and Eddie. Mostly because Eddie keeps one-eyeing him over his burger. Jeff wants to ask how you learned that trick on Eddie, as he can be quite persistent when he wants something done his own. Meanwhile, you’re snacking on another fry like it was nothing.

Before Eddie wants to start any more trouble, Jeff whisks Gareth away in a flash. They’ll probably smoke together, while digging an even bigger trench that they’re in with Eddie.

You’re left to enjoy a quiet meal with your best friend. Occasionally, you beg him to chew the food in his mouth with his lips shut. You’ll give up sometime when the burger is halfway down and done with.

Eddie won’t let you pay even though he’s practically down to dimes, quarters and dollar bills. It’s your birthday, and you’re going to be treated like the golden princess you are. Anything to let Eddie see your gleaming white smile is a win to him.

You don’t have a chance to spend much time with Eddie because he’s got an unspecified “something” to do today. It’s probably the band. They’re practicing this afternoon.

With that, you hop back into the passenger seat of his van. Eddie takes the long way around to your house, so you can practice your drum solo on his dash board. Slowly, you’ve picked up on a few of Eddie’s favorite songs. One day you might out-drum Gareth, and you could join the band.

Only in Eddie’s fantasies - not that he has a lot of fantasies about you. There’s an occasional rip in his friendship with you, as he likes to put it. A fluke. You’re not a fluke. It’s all him.

Anyway, you’re landing flat foot in the dirt right in front of your abode. Eddie wouldn’t let you walk the few steps across from his trailer. It’s silly how he does that. You wave like he’s going to be leaving for a journey to a far away land, instead of driving a couple feet and parking his van in front of his trailer.

You’ve got plenty of clean-up left to do inside of your home. There’s dirty dishes piled in the sink, the counters are covered in food and you might as well sweep the floor since you’re in there. The bathroom could also use a mop. Oh, but you might as well clean the entire bathroom. Because what’s the point in mopping if the bathroom isn’t clean?

The clock on your mother’s bed stand reads close to four in the afternoon when you finally finish making her bed with freshly washed sheets. It’s taken you hours, but the home is just starting to smell less like dread and a little more like hope - and lavender. You got a deal on room spray from the bargain store in town.

Stretching your arms way above your head, you decide to celebrate with a hot shower. The water running over your aching shoulders would feel good right about now. Plus, the towels are fresh from the wash as well.

Clean.

It’s such a simple, yet rewarding feeling. You don’t get to experience it all that often.

Cigarettes have stained the walls of your home, and buried themselves deep into your carpet fibers. There’s even a few burns here and there from your mother’s habit of falling asleep with a cigarette between her fingers.

You wrap yourself in a towel and forget about that for a moment. It’s just you and a bottle of lotion across your skin.

From your bedroom window, you can see Eddie pulling into his trailer once again. Back from band practice, Eddie skips up the steps to his trailer. You stop in the moment when Gareth jumps out of the passenger side. A dark t-shirt with missing sleeves and a pair of worn down denim shorts differ from this morning’s sweats. You don’t mean to stare, but really is it that awful to look over the menu? You’re not even ordering anything.

Snorting at yourself, you close the curtain for your own privacy to change and to loosen the thoughts bleeding your innocence. You throw a shirt over your head, and suddenly hear a single knock at your front door. It’s loud like a knock anyways.

Dressing yourself decently in a comfortable pair of pajamas (you have no plans to go anywhere), you head straight to the front door to figure out what the noise could be. Maybe your mom had come back, and she drunkenly forgot her keys.

Actually, the knock is a much prettier sight. There’s a bouquet of flowers in bright rich purples. You wonder who remembered your favorite flowers are these little orchards with the white center. There’s a card poking from the center of the bundle with Eddie, Jeff and Gareth’s nearly illegible handwriting. You hate to call their new band-mate ‘Freak,’ but he has signed the card as well. It says ‘Happy Birthday,’ and you coo.

You pick the bouquet off the porch by the glass vase the flowers are displayed in. Inhaling sweet aromas of warm days reading a good book in a field, you could cry.

“Thank you!” You wave to Gareth and Eddie, who are hiding neck deep in the engine of Eddie’s van pretending not to watch your reaction. They don’t really know much about girls, but you are one and so they try to make you feel different than them. They want you to feel special.

Eddie half waves like he’s too cool to admit what he’s done, but Gareth pops his head from the van and spins around to get a good look at you.

You hardly notice Gareth’s lingering gaze, as you’ve already closed the front door of your house with you inside.

It doesn’t take long for the phone to ring.

“Hello?”

“Are you ready?” Robin’s voice comes through clear and bouncing with energy.

You snicker. “Ready for what?”

“My mom is on her way to pick you up, you’re sleeping over at mine tonight,” she says as a matter-of-fact.

“Am I?”

“Eddie called me,” she explains, “Happy birthday by the way - oh! Your mom is a bitch.”

Robin begins rambling about the times your mom has irritated her because that’s what you two do. Among all things, Robin is your sibling by terms of the longevity of your friendship. She’s the only person to get away with calling out your mom directly to you.

“Robin,” you pause her rant. “If you want me over, I need to get an overnight bag ready.”

“Oh, right,” she clears her throat. “Five minutes.”

“Five?!” You exclaim. The line goes dead.

Oh, Robin. How you love her.

-> <-

[to be continued]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax

[nerdy-nook]

Favorite nuerodivergant headcannons for Voltron LD?

Ooo I like this one! I’m going to do neurodivergent headcanons as well as mental health headcanons because I don’t think all of the characters are neurodivergent. Ok let’s start!

Voltron Paladins:

Shiro: He canonically has PTSD, although the show stopped focusing on it after season 2. So I’m going to keep that. He definitely has panic attacks (as we have seen) but has a good control on his triggers. He has to, to keep himself and his team safe in battle.

Keith: BPD and autism you cannot change my mind. You can’t tell me that after all the shit that poor kid went through in his childhood that he doesn’t have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder). He checks a lot off the boxes. The sudden mood changes, aggression, abandonment issues, and feelings of worthlessness or inadequacy. As for the autism he mainly experiences sensory issues surrounding sounds and touch. We all know about his social skills. He also has insomnia.

Hunk: I think Hunk has GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder). He’s had it since he was in elementary school. It mainly consists of catastrophizing and physical symptoms. His heart races, and he sweats a lot.

Lance: He has combined ADHD. A classic case as a kid: SUPER hyperactive, couldn’t sit still, and couldn’t focus. His processing speed is a lot slower making it harder for him to learn in an average school environment. This made him self conscious growing up, thinking he was stupid. It’s something he still struggles with.

Pidge: Best girl disease! Jk. She has ADHD, autism, and is also a fellow insomniac. This girl will hyperfixate and work herself for hours. The team comes to do routine checks on her when she’s researching to make sure she rests. She isn’t really hyperactive but does have a hard time staying still. Catch her rotating clockwise as she types away on her laptop.

MFE Pilots (this is self indulgent):

James: With his strong sense of justice I can see him having a little bit of the ‘tism. I used to headcanon him as having BPD as well but now I’m more leaning towards Bipolar II. This goes a long with some other headcanons I have for him, I’ll make a hc sheet for him soon.

Ina: She has autism. She was diagnosed at 3 years old. Her parents were tipped off by the fact that she was selectively mute when she was younger.

Nadia: Also has ADHD She mainly struggles with her impulsivity issues. She has a really hardy time keeping organized. Did someone say organized chaos? Her rooms always a little bit of a mess but she knows where everything is. Once she sets something down she can never find it.

Ryan: I literally can’t think of anything for him, he’s just a neurotypical guy. Nothing wrong with that.

Thanks for the ask BTW!!

[thoughtofadumbteenprotagonist]

Petition for there to be a Zelda game that’s a cross between animal crossing and stardew valley so that Link can just settle down somewhere and not have to worry about saving the word every five minutes and maybe romance someone if he’s in the mood for it

[theswedishpajas]

Based on my favorite gif lately

[0utpost-alpha]

God I just realized Tucker must have felt like he got hit by 12 semi trucks one after another once he got control of his body back.

[avirael]

This Home of Mine

How had it come to this?, Aviloh asked himself as the argument around him began to get louder. Somehow he had known it would all end horribly one day. He just had hoped it would take a little longer. He only had himself to blame for this, he thought as his eyes fearfully scanned the crowd that was slowly gathering around them.

There at the sidelines stood U‘khaya with a gleeful expression on her face. She knew this would happen, he realised. But A’viloh wasn’t the kind of person to blame her for what happened…

U‘khuba‘s twin sister had always been following the boys around even when they all had still been kids. She had been a brave and stubborn little girl, maybe a little mean sometimes but not more so than her brother. A‘viloh had always thought she was following them because of Khuba - twins being inseparable or something. Never had he imagined the reason would be Laqa instead.

Of course he could have guessed it. Everyone loved Laqa! Apparently Khaya wasn’t an exception in this matter.

That evening - before the argument - A‘viloh had waited for quite some while by the pond. They had always used to hide there when they still had been kids, every time the other boys had stirred trouble or teased the girls.

By now it was one of the spots Laqa and him sometimes used as meeting points when they sneaked out of the settlement together. But today the other Miqo’te had arrived so late, A‘viloh had already started to wonder if something had happened.

“There you are!”, Aviloh said relieved as Laqa finally appeared just when he was about to go searching for him. “I was already worried. Did something happen?”

The blonde Miqo’te made an annoyed face. “Just Khaya happened…”

A’viloh didn’t understand. “Khaya? What’s wrong with her?”

“Everything apparently!”, Laqa exclaimed disgruntled, which made A‘viloh even more confused.

Laqa sighed.

“She waylaid me on my way outside.”, he explained but couldn’t help to look a little angry still. “Started talking some nonsense about how impressed she was about the quarry from our last hunt and how it is a shame that it isn’t me leading the tribe instead of father.”

A’viloh furrowed his brows, still not quite connecting the dots. Laqa grimaced. “Then she threw herself at me and tried to kiss me.”

“She what?”, A‘viloh exclaimed a little louder than intended, with a mix of shock and disbelief on his face.

Laqa raised his hands in a calming manner. “Don’t worry! I of course told her that I am not interested. Like I ever would be anyway! We may be almost the same age but she is still my mother’s sister. What was she even thinking, Vi?”

A‘vi shrugged but couldn’t help to remember something one of Laqa’s sisters had once told him. “Lamana mentioned that Khaya didn’t agree with some of U‘odh‘s opinions. She thought her and Khuba were still mad with him because of their father…”

“That makes no sense! They have no reason for that! It’s not like father threw them all out!”, Laqa said annoyed. “Alone because of mom he wouldn’t have! Anyway, grandpa had been old already, if not father then someone else would sooner or later have challenged him. All of them were always treated equally. Why would they be mad?”

A’viloh gave another shrug and smiled weakly. “Maybe it’s none of that and she really just is a little in love with you… I can’t blame her…”

Laqa lightly glared at him, as if he wanted to say “this isn’t funny”, but couldn’t help to grin himself.

“It’s still absurd!”, he said while shaking his head.

“You think?”, A‘viloh asked and chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if half the village was secretly in love with you.”

Laqa made a sound somewhere between an annoyed huff and a suppressed laugh. Then he stretched out a hand for A‘viloh to take. As A‘viloh did so Laqa pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him. “Too bad for them that the only one I will ever love is you.”

All too willingly - too carelessly! - A’viloh melted into the other Miqo’te’s embrace. Laqa saying things like this never failed to give him a warm and fuzzy feeling. Just as much as Laqa kissing him always made his heart skip a beat and his mind go silent.

Gently A‘viloh wrapped his arms around the taller Miqo’te’s neck, like an invitation to pull him even closer and deepen their kiss, when suddenly a sound appeared nearby. Their ears, currently slightly drooped, attentively shot up and both Miqo’te instinctively turned to see where the unexpected sound had come from.

Without doubt, there by one of the larger rocks nearby, eyes wide and mouth agape in disbelief, stood a Miqo’te girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

Khaya!

This was the exact moment A‘viloh knew he was in trouble.

“Khaya…”, Laqa was the first one to find his voice again. He sounded almost as if he wanted to reassure a shy animal, but it only made the girl unfreeze, whirl around and run away. “No! Khaya, wait!”, Laqa called and ran after her. He probably wanted to explain, wanted to beg her to stay silent, but A‘viloh knew it was too late already.

With his heart hammering against his chest and his thoughts racing he stood there and just watched them go. For a second he wondered what he should do now. But he had nowhere else to go, probably no one else who would defend him apart from Laqa. So slowly he followed back to the settlement, wishing he could just vanish into thin air.

***

“Tell me this isn’t the thruth.”, U‘odh demanded from his son. His voice was still relatively calm but there already was a tone in it, a kind of threatening sound that also reflected on his face.

For a moment the thought crossed A’viloh’s mind, that Laqa could simply have lied. That he simply could have denied everything. Maybe, just maybe, his father would have believed him.

But that wasn’t like Laqa.

“It’s true!”, Laqa admitted and turned his face a little bit to look at A‘viloh, who so far had stood a few steps behind him, trying to stay out of U’odh’s attention. “A‘vi and I are a couple.”

A murmur went through the crowd and somehow even A‘viloh felt surprised to hear him say this so bluntly for everyone to hear. U‘odh laughed, but it lacked any humor. A’viloh already looked very uncomfortable but when the nunh’s sharp eyes landed on him, he almost flinched away and cast his eyes down to the ground.

“That weak little welp?!”, U’odh spat out, speaking to his son but still looking and pointing at A’viloh. “What do you want with him?! He’s good for nothing!”

A’viloh had never quite understood this either. There were so many better people than him and still Laqa had chosen him instead. Carefully A‘viloh glimpsed up at Laqa and could see his whole body tense up against the nunh’s insulting words. Stubbornly Laqa stared into his father’s eyes and growled.

“Don’t you dare to speak of him like that! I don’t care if he can fight or not, he is kind and wonderful and I love him!”

But U‘odh simply shook his head and laughed condescendingly.

“Love?! Don’t be foolish now… you know nothing about love.”

That had been too much for Laqa.

Usually no one dared to speak up against U‘odh no matter how harsh his words sometimes were. But Laqa, in a way just like his father and in another just like his mother, never had known how to back down. The anger about the situation and also about his father didn’t help, so his next words sounded especially blunt and sharp, more so than he probably truly thought.

“More than you! You wouldn’t recognise love if it stood right in front of you! Because you are just a bitter resentful man who doesn’t know how to love!”

Shocked gasps sounded from the crowd and everybody stared at either Laqa or his father, waiting for a reaction. For a few long seconds both remained silent. But while Laqa just stared at the older Miqo’te with a stubborn, unyielding face, the nunh‘s face changed slowly but entirely. All the mockery faded from his face and instead his expression turned to an angry snarl.

A‘viloh knew he would only end up in the crossfire but if he didn’t do something now, they would certainly fight and that was the last thing any of them could want. He didn’t really know what to say but scraped up all his bravery and stepped forward a bit. Trying to divert their attention from each other he spoke up, still quiet but clearly audible against this deadly silence.

“Please stop, I don’t —“

But U’odh wasn’t going to listen to whatever he had to say. Furiously he whirled towards him and stepped closer with wild rage in his eyes.

“No one allowed YOU to speak, you pathetic little weakling! Get out of my sight, you are none of my kin and I never want to see your whiny face again! You are nothing but a parasite and I have suffered your presence here for long enough! Begone! You are no longer welcome here!”

Of course. A‘viloh had expected this but it still hurt to hear these words out loud. He tried not to cry but already looked quite miserable already, even without tears. U’odh however wasn’t done with him yet.

“Oh, how I regret the day I allowed you to stay here! I wish you had just died with the rest of your miserable family!”, the nunh hissed and looked as if he was about to attack A‘viloh with more than just hurtful words.

With tears in his eyes A‘viloh shivered in fear and flinched away. He had never seen U’odh so furious before. But before the man could loose his self-control entirely and really tried to strike at him, Laqa stepped between them and protectively wrapped his arms around A‘viloh.

Instantly everything went silent again. Everyone seemed shocked by what had happened or what U’odh had just said. Even the nunh himself seemed stunned when he saw his son’s disgusted face, staring at him. But U‘odh was not the kind of man to give in or admit his failures. Instead he quietly but sharply said, “Don’t look at me so. My word is final. He is none of our family and I want him gone by tomorrow.”

With a strange mixture of defiance and sadness Laqa looked at his father for a moment, before he spoke.

“In that case I don’t consider you my family any longer either. A place where A‘vi isn’t welcome I cannot call my home. If you send him away, I will go with him!”

Briefly a shadow crossed his face but then U’odh looked entirely unfazed again.

“Where would you even go?”, he asked and shook his head dismissively.

“Anywhere but here...”, Laqa replied coldly and turned to A’viloh. “Let’s go and pack our things.”

All of this had happened so suddenly A’viloh still could not quite believe it. No matter what U’odh had said, for him this place was still his home and the people here the closest thing he had to a family. He didn’t want to leave.

“What? Now?”, he asked and pleadingly looked to Laqa, hoping that there was some way to make everything right after all.

“Yes! I’m sure we can stay with the Flames for one night and tomorrow morning we leave.”

His decision seemed to be final, just as U’odh’s. What was A’viloh supposed to do against that?

Laqa made a point of taking A‘viloh’s hand so everyone could see it and knew to whom his loyalty belonged. Slowly he let his gaze wander over the crowd of curious faces giving them one last chance to speak up but they all remained silent.

With a last disappointed look at his father he turned around and walked away, unconcerned that they all stared at them as they left.

[tsuchinokoroyale]

[wlwaerith]

i try to check back here to do more than just add posts to my queue. i promptly get overwhelmed & log out again

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Somebody tell me I’m not the only one that thought while reading the end of Borrasca part five that Sam was going to like lean over his still warm father’s corpse and say “Also I am a homo rot in hell you sick freak” even if he’s not I think it’d be a great power play

[kittyplayz1]

I am genuinely so frustrated right now. I just woke up from a dream where there was a new season of Young Justice and I watched like 3 and a half episodes before I woke up, and they were good, but they aren’t real and I’m already forgetting some of them and I’ll never get to finish the season!

[the-zebra-dragon]

Torturing Volo by putting him in front of the Guys That Live In My Brain (healthy monster polycule) and reminding him that due to his own actions he can have none of it

[sanchoyo]

haven’t been on much bc my dog has been sick :( between seizures and an infected tooth we’ve been having a Time trying to get everything fixed (this started around the holidays so our vet has been very booked up…we have been like 3-4 times in the past 4-5 weeks OTL does not help it’s like an hour drive there, so that’s been exhausting) now his new seizure meds are making him sick (was hoping it was like, just an adjustment period thing but he’s been sick for a week and having concerning symptoms…) if I’m not on a ton or slow to replying to messages it’s bc I’m working as much overtime as my job will give me bc Vet Expensive and mentally drained obvi 😞

[maedesculpaeusoubi]

i genuinely think sobriety looks good on me (especially for someone that got addicted at 11 and got sober at 22) but oh god do i miss the destructiveness and the numbness

[ween-kitchens]

yk when you can feel yourself starting to stop caring about stuff you love and you are White Knuckling through it because no I Will still love this so fucking help me

[badnew2005]

i know i have been inactive but i fear yous do Not talk about dennis literally killing himself near enough