#this would also apply to like. any actual haunted house. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gerrystamour · 9 months

Text

the fire is so delightful

For: @mojowitchcraft / weird_witchcraft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Max "Maxine" Mayfield

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 5,500

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Single Parent Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is Max's dad in this, Steve Harrington is a Christmas Lover, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Frottage, Dom/sub undertones

Summary: Eddie hates Christmas. Steve, and his daughter, loves it. Eddie decides to grin and bear it.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

[ READ ON AO3 ]

All great things come with a certain amount of sacrifice, Eddie told himself that everyday.

So when the hot school teacher that frequented the bar Eddie worked asked him out, he knew there had to be some sort of catch.

He knew Steve was a single dad well before he asked Eddie out and he’d decided that was just fine by him. Eddie loved kids, was great with them even, plus Steve already told him he had a rule about not introducing new partners to his kid too soon. The kid was absolutely not a sacrifice, in Eddie’s mind.

He also knew that Steve was what one might call a jock, athletically inclined and holy shit, did he look like it. Eddie’s high school self was wailing and screaming about him falling for the enemy, but the first tumble between the sheets proved that the athleticism only did good things for things like stamina, strength, power. So once again, not a sacrifice.

Steve was hilarious, dedicated, hot as hell, and the perfect father. He was accommodating and kind, while also the bitchiest, most savage gossip in the entire world. He was also the best goddamn lay Eddie had ever had, what with the way he took control and helped still Eddie’s racing thoughts, sent his mind straight into the stratosphere where he couldn’t think about anything other than the pleasure he was feeling at Steve’s focused hands.

No, they made it three whole months into their relationship before the moment of truth came.

It was actually two months into the relationship when the first hint came up, if Eddie had been paying any attention at all.

“I’m not much of a Halloween person,” Steve had said when Eddie asked why the decorations on his front lawn were so lame. “Neither is Max, so we don’t really go all out.”

That was insane to Eddie, absolute serial killer vibes. There were several seconds where he was actually contemplating if they would work out.

“Maybe you just haven’t had the right person to show you how awesome Halloween is,” Eddie had teased as he crowded Steve against the kitchen counter.

“Maybe,” Steve had replied with a lazy smirk, glancing at Eddie’s mouth. “Definitely happy to let you try to change my mind.”

And damn, did Steve let him try. That beautiful man went to every goddamn haunt and ghost walk that Eddie dragged him to, and he even smiled through most of it. Steve even found something nice to say about everything they did, even the things that Eddie caught him giving bitchy eyerolls at.

By mid-October, Steve had decided it was time that Eddie met his daughter Max, and their first bonding experience was hitting up the Spirit Halloween and getting her a sick costume and then getting half a dozen pumpkins to carve together. They spent the whole afternoon gutting and carving them while Steve cleaned and roasted the seeds and made other treats and dinner for all three of them.

It had been a perfect day, one that ended with Eddie spending the night at Steve’s house, in his bed, and eating breakfast with both Steve and Max. It was one of those times that Eddie realized he was falling in love and falling fast. That morning, Max had asked Eddie if he would take her and her friends trick-or-treating and Eddie thought his chest might explode it felt so full of affection for the twelve-year old.

The moment of truth came sometime around the beginning of November when Steve came to the bar and bopped his head to the Christmas music that was already playing.

“Annoying, right?” Eddie groused, and Steve raised an eyebrow with one of his patient smiles.

“What is?”

“The music. Halloween just ended and we’re already being subjected to the sickening upbeat nonsense for a capitalist holiday?” Eddie had explained grumpily while he shined a glass. When he’d looked up at Steve, he barely caught the weird expression that was quickly wiped from his face.

“You don’t like Christmas?” Steve had asked, and he was smiling but there was something off about it.

“No,” Eddie said honestly and flatly, and Steve did that little laugh he did only when he was trying to not say something. “Do you?”

“Yeah, but like, a normal amount,” Steve said and then he quickly changed the subject.

After that, Steve seemed reluctant to invite him over until Thanksgiving and Eddie pushed about it. When he finally did, he got all the answers he needed.

Steve’s house was… well, lets just say what it lacked for Halloween decor, it definitely made up for with Christmas stuff. There was a big inflatable Santa and reindeer in the front lawn, and honestly the Christmas lights were so well done they looked professional. Like, straight out of those Christmas commercials.

When Eddie stepped into the house, he quickly realized that Steve was likely a lot more into Christmas than “a normal amount” like he claimed. Every surface had some sort of decor, and there was a stand in the front room for a real tree. Staring at that stand, Eddie kind of hoped he was invited along to go shopping for a tree, which was stupid because he hated Christmas.

“Sorry for all the, y’know,” Steve had said as he scrubbed the back of his neck, gesturing around. “This is our thing, me and Max’s I mean.”

“Stevie, babe, you don’t have to apologize. Like at all. Or pretend to be chill. You literally let me be my craziest about Halloween without complaint,” Eddie had said, insistent and desperate for Steve to understand that had he known, he’d have kept his mouth shut about Christmas entirely.

“Yeah, but I don’t hate Halloween, Eds,” Steve had said with the saddest little smile and Eddie had to stop that immediately.

“Listen, Steve, I don’t have many good memories around Christmas because I grew up poor and most of my extended family hated me, so I just— I never saw the point of it,” Eddie said quickly, grabbing Steve’s hands tightly in his own. “I am more than happy to let you try and change my mind. I want to be part of every single stupid Christmas thing you do if you’ll have me and I’ll even play nice about the dumb stuff, just like you did with me. I promise.”

Steve just smirked at him, an expression Eddie had seen only in the context of either playing one of his sports when he was sure he was going to win and in bed when Eddie challenged him to a seemingly impossible task.

“I look forward to teaching you the magic of Christmas, then,” Steve said simply, and kissed him so sweetly that Eddie’s knees nearly buckled beneath him. Then, when he pulled away, he smirked and pointed upward. “Mistletoe.”

When Steve walked away toward the kitchen and Eddie looked up at the mistletoe hanging above him, he knew he was in trouble if the butterflies in his gut were anything to go by.

The thing was, Eddie loved all the “stupid” Christmas shit Steve dragged him to, and it was a lot less like being “dragged” to them. Sure enough, that Thanksgiving weekend, Steve invited Eddie to go shopping for their tree, and Max had been loud in her demand that he say yes. If he hadn’t already been trying to figure out how to ask to go along, that would have convinced him to give up the Grinch schtick. His heart growing three times its size and that shit. Whatever.

Choosing the tree had taken a whole afternoon at the nursery, Max being exceedingly picky and Eddie just feeding into that to make the whole thing last longer. Eventually Steve reached his limit with the two of them and declared that they had to choose one out of the two contenders they were debating between.

“Eddie should choose!” Max declared, crossing her arms over her chest as she rounded on Eddie. “It’s the rules.”

“What rules, red?” he asked, bewildered and a little touched.

“It’s your first Christmas with us,” she said with a roll of her eyes, like it was the most obvious answer. “New friends choose our tree.”

“Yeah, Max, but that’s only if they’re into Christmas,” Steve said, shooting Eddie an apologetic smile.

“What kind of asshole doesn’t like Christmas?” Max asked and Steve’s mouth dropped open as Eddie winced a bit.

“Maxine!” Steve said sternly, putting his hands on his hips and sending Eddie an almost frantic look.

“Steve, it’s fine. More than fine. I would be honoured to choose your tree,” Eddie said, grinning as he stepped close to kiss Steve’s cheek.

“Our tree,” Max said firmly, and Eddie nodded.

“Of course, I meant ‘your tree’ as in the Harrington tree, not just your dad’s tree, little red,” Eddie had reassured her quickly and she just rolled her eyes.

“No, stupid, I mean our tree. It’s your tree, too,” she explained, frowning when Eddie’s mouth dropped open. Then she huffed and glanced away. “Hurry up and choose. I’m getting cold and Lucas wanted to play some dumb video game today.”

So, Eddie chose the Harrington tree and he even was part of bringing it back to their house, setting it up in the stand and decorating it. They spent hours on the whole affair, and that evening after Max had been in bed for an hour, he found himself laying on the floor of the front room staring up at Steve. He was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, his eyes shining so brightly in the dim room. They had been making out on the floor lazily, their mulled wine cooling in the mugs sitting on a table nearby.

“Thank you for humouring her,” Steve murmured, tucking some of Eddie’s curls behind his ear. “At the nursery. You could’ve said no and I would’ve made her understand.”

“Wasn’t humouring her, Stevie. I mean it,” Eddie insisted, reaching up and cupping Steve’s jaw. “I’m… I’m all in with you, okay? I want to— I helped with the tree because I wanted to, not because she made me.”

Steve’s grin had been blinding and they barely made it to the bedroom before clothes began to be tugged off of each other.

Thus began the trips to winter markets every single weekend, sometimes multiple markets, where Steve and Max would purchase even more kitschy Christmas decor and mulling spice mixes and various fancy pastries and such. It was a lot of Christmas music (which was still disgustingly overplayed) but it was also a lot of seeing Steve and Max smiling so big their faces had to hurt from it.

So, yeah, the sacrifice in this great thing with Steve was that Eddie had to pretend to like Christmas.

The only thing was, he wasn’t pretending, not with Steve. Not with the way Steve and Max did Christmas, the way they involved all of their loved ones and made sure everyone got something out of the holiday from them. It was a shocking revelation when Eddie realized he wanted to spend Christmas with the Harringtons for the rest of his life, that Christmas had the opportunity to usurp Halloween’s place in his heart if Steve kept this up.

When the Hawkins Winter Carnival rolled around, Eddie was ready for the inevitable invite that would come from Steve. It was the thing to do that time of year, and if Eddie was being honest, he had never gone. Well, he went when he was really young, but it didn’t count because he couldn’t remember it.

But the invite just wasn’t coming, and the carnival weekend was quickly approaching. It would be easy enough to secure the day off of work, but it was always better to have as much notice as possible.

“So, were you gonna be going to the Hawkins Winter Carnival?” Eddie asked one day as he sat at the island in Steve’s kitchen, and Steve’s ears went dark red.

“Uhm, yes, I was going,” he admitted sheepishly, and when he looked up, he balked at whatever expression was on Eddie’s face. “I’m just— I’ve been saddled with chaperoning all of Max’s friends and I didn’t want you to have an extra miserable time.”

Eddie blinked at Steve, confused at his logic there. “Why would I be miserable spending the day with two of my favourite people in the whole world?” he asked, grinning at the affectionate eyeroll and blush that got out of Steve.

“Okay, but it’s not just going to be the three of us. It would be us plus a whole gaggle of other twelve-year olds and I wouldn’t wish that fate on my worst enemy,” Steve replied, stirring the sauce he had simmering on the stove.

“Uh-huh, but that’s still not you asking me what I wanna do,” Eddie pointed out, raising an eyebrow when Steve opened his mouth to argue. When Steve snapped it shut again, Eddie puffed his chest up smugly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Fine. Eddie, would you like to join me and a gaggle of sixth-graders to the carnival?” Steve asked with another roll of his eyes, but he was grinning when he looked up at Eddie through his lashes.

“I would love to!” Eddie replied brightly, already texting his boss at the bar to get the day off.

The day of the carnival was bright and sunny, the snow on the ground blinding. The sun beaming through the windows of Eddie’s apartment was warm, so he just put on his jeans, an insulated pair of boots, and one of his heavier coats. He didn’t want to get too hot walking around, he decided, and the thought of keeping track of gloves and a hat was daunting on its own.

When Steve arrived to pick him up, he only had Max in the back seat, and she was practically vibrating with excitement. Not that she would voice it out loud, of course, but Eddie knew she was happy he was tagging along.

“You look good,” Steve sighed, leaning across the center console to press a soft, chaste kiss to Eddie’s lips, filling his stomach with a swarm of butterflies.

“You, too,” Eddie replied, chasing Steve’s lips for another quick kiss before sitting properly and buckling up. They could usually get away with two chaste smooches before Max started gagging noisily in the back seat.

“So, where are the gaggle of children I was warned about?” Eddie asked after Steve started driving, turning in his seat so he could see Max, too.

“We’re meeting them there,” Max replied, staring out her window.

“So their parents can get them all there, but can’t stick around?” Eddie asked and Steve laughed.

“Yep,” he said, and Max huffed.

“You offer to take us every single year, Dad,” she said flatly, for which Steve apparently had no argument.

Once they arrived at the carnival, it only took a few minutes before an entire gaggle of tweens surrounded them, all of them speaking at volumes that had to be against some kind of international law or convention or something. Eddie just stood off to the side, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets as he watched Steve take charge (kind of) and coral the little demons.

“Who’re you?”

Eddie jumped, startled by a voice right in front of him. Looking down, he realized that all of the kids were now staring at him, and he had no idea which one just spoke.

“Uh… Hi, I’m Eddie,” he replied, taking a hand out of his pocket to wave at the kids with just his fingers. Immediately, he put his hand back into his pocket as he realized the air was a bit colder than he had been prepared for.

“You’re Steve’s boyfriend?” the tallest kid asked with complete and utter disbelief in his voice.

“Gee, Wheeler, thanks?” Steve snorted, rolling his eyes skyward.

“He just seems way out of your league—” Mike started to reply before he was cut-off by a sharp elbow to the sternum from Max. “Hey!”

“Alright, children, let’s keep it civil please. We’ve got three hours to kill here, we don’t need to start it off with a fight,” Steve interjected, bodily stepping between Mike and Max. “Where do we want to head first?”

It was at that point that all the kids started talking at once, stumbling over each other. From what Eddie could gather, the kids wanted to split from the adults and do their own thing. There was a lot of back-and-forth, but eventually, they reached an agreement with Steve.

Firstly, they were to stay within the grounds of the carnival. Secondly, he would be calling one of their cell phones every thirty minutes to check on them and if they didn’t answer they immediately lost their adult-free privileges. Thirdly, they were expected to meet Steve and Eddie at the gates of the carnival at five without Steve having to round them up himself.

“You don’t want a chaperon, you have to act like you don’t need one,” Steve had said when they protested.

And that was how Eddie ended up walking around the winter carnival with Steve, just the two of them.

The carnival was a decent size, with several booths of local artisans and artists selling their holiday themed wares, a midway with food trucks galore, a Ferris wheel and merry-go-round, and carnival games. There was plenty to keep them busy for three hours.

However, Eddie quickly discovered that just because the sun felt warm through the window at home, that did not mean it was going to keep him from getting cold after more than thirty minutes outside. Within an hour and a bit, Eddie’s nose, ears, and fingers were chilly, even with his hair down and his hands kept deep in his coat pockets.

But in the end, Eddie found it easy to ignore his discomfort because Steve was smiling so huge and so bright. Eddie would suffer literally anything, even torture, just to see Steve’s grin, whether it was directed at him or not.

Somehow, though, that happy expression was for Eddie, so he would be brave and not complain about the chill. They only had a little more than an hour to go, and at some point, Eddie could buy a hot drink to wrap his cold fingers around. He was fine, perfect even.

As it came up on four, and Eddie was clutching the biggest polar bear stuffie he’d ever seen (Steve won it for him at the game with the basketball hoops), Steve sighed and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist. Cuddling into Steve’s warmth, Eddie tilted his head onto Steve’s shoulder as they walked.

“How about we grab some mulled wine?” Steve suggested, turning his head to kiss the top of Eddie’s head and filling his tummy with a furious swarm of butterflies.

“Sounds perfect, big boy,” he replied with a grin, letting Steve lead him to the truck serving the mulled wine. There was a bit of a line, so Steve nodded toward one of the nearby fire pits.

“Grab us a seat?” Steve suggested, and Eddie nodded quickly, more than happy to sit in front of a fire after freezing his dick off for the better part of two hours. When Eddie went to pull away, Steve stopped him. “Goodbye kiss?”

“You’re a sap,” Eddie teased, even as he leaned in and kissed Steve’s smiling lips chastely. “I’m just going, like, ten feet away.”

“You love it,” Steve said as Eddie pulled away, and he was correct. “Your nose is cold,” he added with a grin, and Eddie laughed.

“Yours isn’t much better,” he teased before pulling away and hurrying over to the fire pit, immediately laying his polar bear across the bench to save their seats and holding his hands in the warmth of the fire. It almost hurt, but it also felt really good.

It was only a few minutes before Steve stepped up beside Eddie, leaning close as he offered him one of the little disposable cups. Without hesitation, Eddie stooped to kiss his boyfriend sweetly, grinning when Steve sighed.

“Missed you,” Steve said as he pulled away and beamed at Eddie.

“You were just over there for, like, fifteen minutes,” Eddie replied, his cheeks hot with his blush as butterflies swarmed inside his stomach.

Steve just gave Eddie his most handsome and crooked little grin. “Tell me about it,” he hummed, leaning back in for a quick smooch before holding up Eddie’s mulled wine. “Here’s yours.”

When Eddie finally went to take his cup, their fingers brushed briefly and Eddie made a soft noise at how hot Steve’s fingers felt against his. The other man must have taken his own gloves off while purchasing their drinks.

“What the hell?” Steve asked as his hand flinched away, his expression a bit horrified when his gaze met Eddie’s. “Eds, why are your fingers so cold? How long have they been like this?”

Eddie could feel his cheeks heat with the intensity of his blush, and he shrugged. “Kinda… since we got here?” he said a bit sheepishly and Steve made a small sound of disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? You’ve been giving yourself frostbite and not—I’m rounding up the kids, we’re leaving—” Steve started, and Eddie quickly shook his head.

“No! Don’t! I don’t wanna ruin their fun,” Eddie insisted, and Steve scoffed.

“And you losing your fingers isn’t going to do that?” he asked bitchily, putting a hand on his waist and raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not cold enough for that and you know it,” Eddie replied flatly. “Seriously, Steve, I’m going to be fine. I have a hot drink, a hot fire, and a hot boyfriend. I’ll warm up real quick right here.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed as he considered Eddie’s words and when he opened his mouth to speak, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Max,” he said, frowning a bit as he answered. “Hey! What’s— why’s everyone yelling…? So, no one’s hurt but…? Okay, let me get this straight,” Steve started, smirking a little bit and rolling his eyes at Eddie. “You and Jane are done hanging out with ‘smelly, stupid boys’ but you want me to call in five minutes and end everything early…? What’s in it for me, huh?”

Eddie snorts and sips at his mulled wine, shuffling backward to the bench and scooping his polar bear up into his lap while Steve hummed noncommittally as Max spoke.

“Hmm, I’ll consider your offer closely. Eddie’s been giving himself frostbite this whole time anyway, so I was about to call it anyway,” Steve finally said, ignoring Eddie’s indignant squawk. “Yeah, the butthead didn’t wear any gloves. Do I still have to wait five minutes…? Perfect, we’re at the fire pit near the mulled wine stand… Yeah, the one close to the gates. See you soon.”

Eddie pouted at Steve as he hung-up and sat down next to him. “You didn’t have to do that,” he grumbled, relaxing as Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged him closer.

“Hey, Max wanted to be rescued from the boys anyway. If anything, I’m doing her more of a favour than you,” he said flippantly, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Sure, whatever,” Eddie said, and within seconds they could hear the noisy approach of the gaggle of preteens.

The ride back to Steve’s was a whirlwind, with Steve insisting on dropping Mike, Lucas, and Dustin off at their homes first, even though they had to circle back on their route to drop Max off at Jane and Will’s house. The moment they dropped Dustin off and it was just the three kids in the back, Eddie immediately understood the inefficient route. Near-silence immediately fell in the car, the only disturbance being the Christmas music quietly playing on the radio as they drove.

“Holy shit, I think my ears are actually ringing,” Eddie commented, and Steve snorted.

“You get used to the shrill din of Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson arguing at the top of their lungs,” he replied, and Max scoffed at that.

“No one gets used to that, Dad,” she argued, and Eddie could see her smirk when Jane and Will giggled at that.

Finally, once they were child-free and back at Steve’s house, Eddie felt ready to crash on the couch and maybe pass out for a little nap. But of course, Steve had other ideas.

“Nuh-uh, you froze at the festival I dragged you to, so I’m gonna make sure you get all warmed up,” Steve insisted, dragging Eddie into a kiss that he refused to let Eddie deepen.

Despite Eddie’s best efforts, Steve was apparently on a mission to actually warm him up. It wasn’t just a euphemism for getting Eddie upstairs to his bed or anything like that.

Instead, Steve drew Eddie a bath in the huge soaker tub in the master bathroom, complete with a fancy bath bomb and even fucking candles. To drive home that this wasn’t about sex, Steve kissed him sweetly, chastely and said, “Enjoy your bath. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how long he was in the tub, luxuriating in the warm, lavender-scented water, before Steve poked his head inside to let him know that dinner was served. But the bath did the trick, warming him to his core and leaving him feeling loose and relaxed. Sleepy almost, but not completely exhausted like he had felt when they got home after the festival.

‘Wait, not home. To Steve’s house,’ Eddie corrected himself internally, getting out of the tub and slipping on the fluffy bathrobe Steve had said he could use while he was over a couple weeks ago. There was also a pair of slippers that Eddie had left by accident when he spent the night months ago that Steve had placed with the robe.

Downstairs, there was a fire going in the fireplace and Steve was setting out two plates of the meal he prepared on the coffee table. Steve had also gotten changed into his own bathrobe at some point, and that had Eddie struggling with the urge to confess his love right then and there.

“What?” Steve asked and Eddie blinked, startled out of his thoughts. He hadn’t realized he was staring, or standing there for so long.

“Nothing, just admiring my amazing boyfriend, that’s all,” Eddie replied with a giant grin, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders to pull him into a kiss. Once again, all of his attempts to deepen the kiss were thwarted until Steve pulled away.

“Eddie,” he warned, his tone light but the scold in it was obvious to Eddie’s ears. “Dinner first.”

“Haven’t you heard the saying, though?” Eddie challenged lightly, grinning against Steve’s lips as he placed another kiss on them. “Life’s short, so eat dessert first?”

“What did I say, Eds?” Steve asked instead, his tone full of that firmness that Eddie found himself craving more and more often.

With a sigh, Eddie replied, “Dinner first.”

“That’s right,” Steve said with a pleased hum as he stepped out of Eddie’s embrace and motioned for him to sit on the couch.

They ate their food in comfortable quiet, nothing but logs crackling in the fireplace breaking the silence of Steve’s living room. Usually, such quiet would be excruciating for Eddie, but with Steve it felt natural, perfect even. Like it was safe. Quiet moments with Steve never made Eddie feel like he had to fill them with chatter or noise like he would with most other people.

By the time they were done eating, Eddie felt so relaxed he was close to dozing off right there on the couch with his plate in his lap.

“Let’s get you upstairs and tucked into bed,” Steve hummed, standing up and holding his hands out to help Eddie to his feet.

“The dishes…” Eddie pointed out, but Steve just kept tugging him along behind him.

“They can stay right there for one night, Eds,” he replied as they climbed the stairs.

It wasn’t long before they were cuddled up under the covers on Steve’s bed, robes and slippers discarded on the floor next to the bed, and holding each other as they kissed softly, sweetly.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked quietly without pulling away. “Warmed up?”

“Definitely,” Eddie replied, eyes fluttering as his body lit up under Steve. “Feeling so warm.”

“Mm, I bet,” Steve chuckled, finally deepening their kiss as one of his hands wandered over Eddie’s chest, down his abdomen, and toward his hip. Before Eddie could dream of whining about being teased, Steve shifted his weight and his thigh pressed between Eddie’s legs. At Eddie’s choked off moan, Steve sighed and said, “Yeah, definitely feeling warm now.”

“Stevie, please,” Eddie whispered against Steve’s mouth as he fought the urge to rut against his thigh.

“You’re not too tired, sweetheart?” Steve asked, and Eddie could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“Never too tired for you, babe,” he replied easily, and he absolutely meant it. Then he sheepishly added, “it might have to be just this, though, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, that’s okay, Eds,” Steve replied, pulling back to meet Eddie’s eyes as he shifted until he was settled between his legs. “So perfect when you tell me your limits, baby.”

The praise hit Eddie hard in the gut, heat pooling south so quickly he felt dizzy with it. Spreading his legs wider to wrap around Steve’s waist, Eddie moaned when they slotted against each other like matching puzzle pieces.

They rocked together like that, lazy and relaxed, making out softly until Eddie was squirming underneath Steve.

“What do you need, baby?” Steve asked in a whisper, rolling his hips a bit more determinedly, dragging a flurry of whimpers out of Eddie’s throat.

“Need t’come,” he gasped, arching against Steve and whining when Steve worked a hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around both of them. “Please, Stevie, m’so close.”

“Me too, Eds,” Steve groaned before capturing Eddie’s lips again in a sloppy, hungry kiss. Just when the coil in Eddie’s gut pulled so tight it was almost painful, Steve whispered a gentle, “come for me, sweetheart.”

Just like that, Eddie spilled between them, making a mess of both of their stomachs and Steve’s hand. When Steve didn’t stop his rocking and stroking, Eddie whimpered almost pitifully, begging Steve to come so the exquisite, perfect torture of overstimulation would end. After only a few more strokes, Steve came with a cry so sweet, Eddie felt tears spring to his eyes as he threw his arms around his boyfriend, refusing to let him go.

They held each other, panting and kissing each other sloppily for a long time, just long enough for the mess between them to become tacky and unpleasant.

“I’ll go grab a cloth, okay?” Steve said with a laugh, carefully getting off the bed to avoid smearing anything on the linens or comforters.

Eddie watched his beautiful boyfriend disappear into the ensuite, feeling warm and floaty, taken care of, and treasured. When Steve returned, Eddie knew he was looking up at the man with the sappiest, lovesick gaze if the way Steve’s cheeks turned pink was anything to go by.

“What?” he asked with a little smirk as he carefully wiped the warm cloth over Eddie’s lower abdomen and softened cock.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie replied, “I love you.”

Steve froze and his eyes met Eddie’s with a fierce intensity that would’ve terrified Eddie if a grin didn’t split Steve’s face a second later. It was huge, bright, and absolutely goofy with the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes. It was Eddie’s favourite Steve smile.

“Even though I prefer Christmas over Halloween?” Steve asked in a voice that was so happy that Eddie couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of his own chest.

“Hey, you might’ve made a convert out of me,” he confessed, winking at Steve’s shocked gasp.

“Are you serious? I made you a Christmas lover, too?” Steve pressed, tossing the cloth in the general direction of the ensuite so he could lay on top of Eddie.

“Yeah, just as long as I get to spend it with you and Max,” Eddie replied, reaching up to tuck some of Steve’s hair behind his ears. “As long as you and Max still want me around.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Eds, because I intend to keep you as long as you’ll let me,” Steve hummed, dipping his chin to capture Eddie’s lips in a slow, searching kiss before whispering against his lips, “I love you, too.”

And, yeah, Eddie was pretty sure Christmas was going to become his favourite holiday and stay that way for a long time. Maybe even forever if his luck kept up.

#steddie holiday exchange #steddie #steddie fic #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #gerry writes

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flayedintheusa · 1 month

Text

Overtime

insp: Overtime - Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Overtime (5874 words) by flayedintheUSA Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington Additional Tags: Getting Together, together but not together, and then they are, they're working it out, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, slight mentions of explicit content but not really, Steve Harrington is Not Stupid Summary: Steve’s willing to cross well-defined lines, willing to take what he can get waiting for Billy to realize they’re not as well-defined as he thinks.

When Steve had called him, he wasn’t even sure what he was going to say yet. It felt stupid, but he was good at stupid; somehow always able to play it off as some goofy charming charisma when he was actually brashly unthinking and a bit dense. Thinking caused overthinking, caused inaction, and he needed action. And that’s what Billy promises: action.

Whenever this thing started, he doesn’t really know. Granted, he doesn’t think about it. He’s pretty sure they were both beyond tipsy and unaware of the others’ preferences. Steve wasn’t even completely aware of his own, until Billy. A denim-on-denim, shirts-versus-skins dream that haunted his synapses, the way he lingered in his imagination. The things he thought in his daydreams. They never would’ve come to fruition if it weren’t for that night. Shots, touch, body, feeling, blazing and burning from the inside out. His imagination fell way short.

It was purely situational. Nothing special. The equivalent of a favor it seemed, sometimes. Steve was lonely and hiding and Billy was hidden away and alone and they were both lacking much options in the podunk town they were stuck in. (Steve wouldn’t ever admit that he’d somehow hit the jackpot of that lack of options. Of all people to also be keen to suck dick in Hawkins, he’d found Billy Hargrove. Denim-on-denim, shirts-versus-skins dream. What a powerhouse; fucks like he’s built to.)

“What?” Billy’s voice comes gruffly over the phone, slightly irritated. He must’ve been pumping.

“What’s up?”

There’s a pause. Steve surveys his mental arsenal of lines. They never have the desired effect with Billy, yet the desired outcome always ensues. For that he can’t claim inefficiency.

“I was thinking about you,” he says with a small smile. There’s the sound of rustling and quick movements. He hears a door slam shut.

“What’s wrong with you?” Billy snaps, all riled. “Talkin’ faggy on my goddamn landline, Harrington?”

Steve snorts, leans back against the wood paneling of the kitchen wall. “When we were at the lake,” he continues as if Billy hadn’t said anything, “and you had your fingers so far up in me your rings were pullin’ at my ri—“

“Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington,” he hisses. He sounds winded. Steve wants to hear it’s because of him.

“You should come over,” he says boldly. If he can be anything, it’s bold. “I’m all alone in my big empty house. Thinking about you.”

It’s like the phone goes dead, it’s so quiet. He’s stubborn enough to say ‘fuck off’ and leave Steve hanging for three days before showing up unannounced at eleven o’clock on a Tuesday night. He’s like that. He would, just to prove he can. Because he can; Steve lets him, every time. In the time this strange dynamic has developed, he’s become a bit of a pushover for Billy. A bit desperate for any time he can steal. Any touches he can assuredly say are solely his. Because Billy could have anyone, and he definitely has Steve. Steve wants to call him ‘baby’, call him ‘love’, just to see what happens. But he knows what would happen. Knows it would come back to bite him. Because Billy can’t give himself like that, can’t take the leap, can’t let himself. Won’t. Steve can only hold on while he’s on the ride, and Billy is a wild ride. He can only hope it doesn’t end too soon. Hope that, when it does, the crashing and burning is something he can handle.

“You’re fucking pathetic, Harrington,” Billy says sharply, and hangs up.

The Camaro is in his driveway by 10:48.

The hum of the television, abandoned of attention and blearily playing Johnny Carson, starts to reach his ears again. He can hardly hear it over his own breath as he tries to catch it, huffs a bit indignantly when Billy’s weight settles on top of him on the too-small couch. His hand falls to rest on the taut muscles of the slightly shorter boy’s back, the other unfurling from the bottom lip of the sewed cushion armrest.

They don’t often fuck in the living room. And Steve doesn’t often top. Billy was eager. Or maybe eager for a distraction; whatever Steve might be to him isn’t his business.

He learned quickly it would never be his business. Billy was good at laying clear lines. And Steve tripped toward them almost every time, every time shoved back, never to cross. Because you know what this is, Harrington. And don’t make this something it’s not. It’s better, this way; once graduation date hits the top of the morning paper, Hargrove’s peeling out with his fixed-up Camaro and hard earned-and-hidden cash stash and leaving Hawkins in the rearview. Never to be seen again.

It’s shit.

Because Steve is a softy, and it sucks. People call him golden-boy like that’s something to be proud of. He wishes he were steely, hardened and rusted at the edges, so he could do things like watch Billy take him to the hilt and moan like he’s starved and not want to tell him how fucking beautiful he is and how lucky he’s made Steve feel.

He slips out of the other boy when he stands on semi-shaky legs, and Steve leans up onto his elbows to watch as he pulls his jeans back on.

“Hot date or something?” Steve says with a shallow smirk. Can’t quite make it all the way.

Billy doesn’t look at him. “That’s your business because…?”

The warm, sedate feeling of his high turns sour about his nerves. Nerves that were just peaked because of the boy who no one can hold. Won’t let anyone close enough to try. Steve is getting tired of trying.

“It could be my business,” he shrugs. No big deal.

Billy laughs, harsh and loud, one quick bark. Still doesn’t look at him. “Right,” he drawls. “And we could cuddle up and get all cozy and be the head-honcho homos of Hawkins. Gimme a break.”

“Calm down, man, it’s just a night,” Steve sighs, feeling distinctly rejected. Again and again. Always all over again.

Billy turns to him, his features dark. He’s always more touchy when he’s the one that gets fucked. Steve has tried to learn the proper way to handle his lashes, the right way to ease them. There isn’t one. “It’s not shit, Harrington. I’m not your bitch, stop calling me.”

As if when he calls is the only time he ends up with a bed full of Hargrove.

“You want me to stop calling you?”

He pulls on his boots. He doesn’t answer. He’s lying, always so good about how he lies. How he thinks it’s just the truth and the truth hurts other people because other people are pussies. And Steve Harrington is his bitch, and he likes it that way. He doesn’t want him to stop calling. But he won’t be Steve’s, and that’s not a lie, and that’s what Steve’s afraid of.

He leaves, quietly. His presence was so loud it made Steve forget how lonely it is here. Just for a moment.

The line is hauntingly quiet when it clicks, as if someone had picked up. Steve’s ear rings with the buzz of electricity powering it, straining to hear for something, anything.

It took him too long to get the guts to dial. Started thinking. Overthinking. There wasn’t time to overthink, to create inaction, not after what he’d seen. His grip makes the plastic squeak in protest and he takes a quick, gathering breath.

“Billy?”

Quiet. He waits for it to go dead, like a timed-out answering machine. Only the sound of his own name to be heard if Billy checks it. Something rustles softly. Steve’s ears catch it, fine-tuned as they are to his line.

“Harrington.”

It’s hollow. Like the emptiness of the quiet. Like they came from the same lineage, carrying nothing and still bating Steve’s breath.

Steve’s eyes shift around the bare fridge, traces magnets that hold nothing up. “What happened?”

Steve knows what happened. Maybe not the full extent, but he can infer. Things like yelling and screaming and crashing, followed by as dramatic an exit one can make while obviously limping with blood staining their front, are easy to draw conclusions from.

And Billy had seen his car, parked on the other side of the road from the False-Smile he lived in on Cherry Lane. His shoulders drew high and his fists clenched, probably wondering why problems weren’t legislatively constrained to being dealt one at a time. He burnt rubber on the driveway as he peeled out, and Steve let him. Didn’t chase him. No matter how badly he wanted to. Because just as he runs from his dad, he’s running from Steve, too.

After the last time, in Billy’s car parked at a shady corner of the quarry, Steve was reminded that not planning— that being brash— could also be a horrible, terribly bad thing.

He hadn’t meant to say it. It slipped out. Steve was leaned over the other boy, hands in his hair, lost in the curl of it and the curl of his tongue and the cut of his jaw. His knees dug painfully into the tight sides of the crammed Camaro, driver’s seat not designed to make straddling hot Californians and making out until he was hot and breathless comfortable. He pressed all of his weight into him to readjust his knees, Billy had groaned— a spectacular, wonderful sound— and held his hips down. And Steve felt him— felt buzzed on the taste of his mouth and the soundtrack of his arousal and the feeling of them pressing together between layers of clothes— and, well, kind of whined. Billy’s face morphed like the sound pained him, hips jolting up against Steve’s hardness, and clenched his teeth on the words. “Fuck, love it when you make that sound— love—“

And he froze like there was a gun pressed to the window. Because Steve knows Billy’s never let himself claim to love anything, not after finding out it was always a lie. Always a lie for him. Would never, ever get close enough to Steve to even let him try to prove otherwise.

Steve, unfortunately, felt ignited. Felt alight. Felt hope. Which is terrible. Awful.

So when he said, “You can love it. You’re allowed. I love yours, too.” he should have known the solution would be to open the driver side door and shove Steve out onto his ass, pain shooting up his spine as Billy gunned it out of there.

And, obviously, after that, he didn’t want to see Steve. Didn’t want Steve to see him, especially like that. Hurt and wounded and fleeing. Always hurt and wounded. Always fleeing.

“Nothing,” he says after too long. He sounds tired. Like he’s taken something for sleep and is fighting it.

“Are you ok?”

Another sigh, heavier. “Man, what the fuck do you want?”

Steve shifts against the wall. He hates this. Hates how he feels right now. Hates how he feels for Billy and hates that he won’t ever not be pushing him away, like it’s a waste of time.

“I dunno, man, I wanted to know if you’re ok. That’s like, why I asked.”

“Well I’m just great, pr— Harrington.”

He wants to know what it was going to be. Pretty boy? Princess?

“I know you’re not, and that’s ok,” Steve insists, sliding down the wall a bit. “You can talk to m—“

“You don’t know shit, and it’s not ok,” he hisses suddenly. “Get your head outta your ass Harrington. This is pathetic.”

“Sure,” Steve sighs, waving his hand a bit and sliding a bit further. “This is pathetic.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re saying?” he growls into the receiver. Out of the speaker, it sounds just as hollow. Hollow threats from a hollow boy Steve thought he could fill. You can’t fill other people. You can only help people fill themselves. And Billy is determined to remove himself by the shovel full and all Steve has is his hands. He’s ill-equipped.

“You can say it. That you like things, love things. Even me. I know what you wanted to say.”

“Fuck you, Harrington.” Billy’s rage is evident. Steve hopes he’s safe. But safe people don’t have such unsafe coping mechanisms.

“I’m not it,” Steve continues, slides even further and his tailbone hits the cold tile of his empty kitchen. Empty save for the presence of a hollow boy, of Billy, even just his voice. “I’m not the one, that’s fine. But one day you’re going to make it out and you’re going to be ok and you’re going to let yourself love things and maybe you’ll realize what this was.”

It’s quiet again. The empty silence pierces him further. He’ll realize too late, and that’s what he’s afraid of.

“You done?”

Steve’s head tilts back against the wall. He lets the phone drop and bounce on its cord.

Yeah. He’s done.

Billy’s angry. Always angry, seems like.

The air around him is suffocating, everywhere. At home. At school. On the court. In Hawkins. It’s all fucking terrible. And now, his favorite pass-time (driving too fast on roads too small) is even tainted. The air of his car is suffocating, thinking about the last time Steve was here. Snuffing out the suffocation and making him feel like he could breathe. Straddling his lap like an all-American dream. Making those sounds that make him feel like the furnace constantly swallowing him whole is suddenly in him, lighting him up everywhere.

He pushes the pedal down harder. His engine roars. So does he.

Because he fucking snapped. It finally happened. He knew it would— knew it was a fluke that pretty boy, King Steve, Hawkins High’s very own royal princess, would stoop to Billy’s level. He knew the whole time it was doomed to fail, but from the first moment he was drunk on the blip of that suffocation. It was like gasping for breath, breathing in Steve. It was made to break, but it was only a matter of time before he wasn’t hooked on feeling like he could breathe, feeling like he was unrestrained, feeling like he was himself again. No, he was hooked on Steve. And that’s much, much worse.

His teeth slam together as he thinks about the floppy-haired brunette. The fucking dork. He drives kids around for fun. Likes The Goonies and Bryan Adams. He’s got a complex out the ass. Thinks he’s better than everyone. Always so brash with his words. Acts like everything is always going to be ok. Has this stupid need to make Billy feel good and safe. Has these dimples that suck him in like the beach break. Has these stupid moles decorating his skin like constellations. Has this voice that shatters his nerves when he’s falling apart in, around, on top of him.

And, for some god forsaken reason, Steve was up for it all. Up for everything he knew Billy was going to do to him. Because Billy made it clear— made it painstaking obvious that Shoot to Thrill was all this was. And still— still— Steve Harrington has the audacity to make him feel like Billy was worth it.

He should hate Billy’s guts; he should be punching him in the face. He knows Steve is hurting, can feel it in the way he avoids his eyes, in the way he stays far off, in the way he takes the long way to class, in the way he walks to his car like no one’s watching when Billy’s pretending he isn’t, in he way he doesn’t call.

He takes a curve too sharp, the furnace he exists in burning his skin.

He deserves this.

He doesn’t deserve whatever Steve said: getting out, getting ok with himself, loving things. He doesn’t love things. Things don’t love him. People don’t love him. Love is lies. Even the ones who are supposed to, don’t. They lie. They leave. The ones that don’t, they’re the ones that stick around. Make you pay for being a fool.

His heart kicks at the starting drum of the next song from the local radio station. He’d left in a fervor, his throat closing on feelings he said— he promised— wouldn’t happen. He’d swiped his tapes from the car to drown out the sound of memories, of feelings. When buzzing ears didn’t feel enough like buzzing gravel through speeding floorboards, he jerked his jacket off the hook and left before Neil could say shit about him going out so late. He’ll bare the consequences he deserves later; pretend they’re the fists of the person who’s supposed to be beating him to a pulp to justify it.

And the sound of that drum is engrained in his memory. He could name the song off the first .5 seconds. Because it’s Bryan Adams. It’s Steve’s favorite right now— his number one top pick of the best song out. Which is just disrespectful and Billy doesn’t know how he said it with a straight face. And then he’d sung along to it, eating drive-thru burgers on the hood at the quarry. Mumbled lyrics as it played through his bedroom stereo in the Harrington Castle as he sunk down onto Billy, brow tight and neck strained, chest struck red and cheeks flushed. God he was fucking pretty—

Billy slams the radio off. The vibrating interior and the hum of the road swallows him whole. He thinks of Steve’s face, pouting as he mocked the soloist for posing to get into the Top 10, for being a trashy girly-pop idol, for being Canadian. He’d crossed his arms and muttered about how he played the guitar since he was ten and had a good voice. And Billy sighed and slapped the radio on again and pretended not to find Steve’s obvious feeling of victory cute as he smiled around softly singing along.

“Fuck!” Billy swears, his foot easing off the gas. His hand falls over his face, drags roughly on his jaw. “Fuck.”

He stares out the windshield as the blur of the treetops start to ease back into steady forms. He presses the FM button again.

And that's when I met you, yeah

Standin' on your mama's porch

You told me that you'd wait forever

It’s awful, this suffocation. He’s felt it as long as he’s been alive, it feels like. It’s even worse now that he knows what it’s like to not suffocate. To take the burning and use it. To feel it inside instead of all around— instead of something that steals his oxygen.

It’s terribly, awfully bad. Because he’s good at fighting. He’s good at winning. And he can’t fight for this. He can’t win this.

Steve doesn’t know what he’s got, being saved from him.

Oh, and when you held my hand

I knew that it was now or never

Billy turns it up. Pretends he can’t hear Bryan Adams. Pretends he can hear Steve. Pretends he’s out of here. That he’s ok and he loves things and he wasn’t too late.

Those were the best days of my life

It might be his favorite, too.

He buries himself.

He doesn’t really have a choice; if he doesn’t step up his proverbial academic game, he doesn’t stand a chance at graduating. Nancy’s taken pity on him, helping out with his English and History assignments. He finally finished the conclusion to his English paper on The Catcher in the Rye and is moving swiftly to WWII flash cards with too many names and dates to stick.

He should have paid her for this, seriously. He knows she feels badly about how they ended, but pity won’t buy you and your boyfriend tickets to the drive in.

He jolts awake with the ‘Battle of the Bulge’ index card stuck to his face when the doorbell chimes through the house obnoxiously. It’s 10:32 at night. He hangs his head and contemplates not answering. It’s crash-course week. Cramming o’clock. Brain-hemorrhaging-knowledge integration time. He doesn’t need this.

Even still, he’s not strong enough to say no. Hasn’t been, for the past four days.

He walks down the stairs like it’s tedious, because it it. He’s busy. He runs a hand through his falling hair, the product in it having reached its life expectancy, and thinks maybe it was intentional that he didn’t pull a shirt on. It’s unusually hot in Hawkins for end of spring, and he’s wearing his loose grey sweats. He’s comfortable. It doesn’t matter.

He opens the door to Billy, his hand in one pocket and the other holding Steve’s anatomy notebook.

“What’d you find now?” he asks, as if he doesn’t already know. He only looks at Billy’s face, and even that hurts. He knows he’s wearing that navy shirt, unbuttoned too far. His pendant is always framed by it perfectly. And he looks like he doesn’t care, like this is a chore, but the first night— Sunday— it had been a pair of shorts from his car. Last night it had been his Three Dog Night album Steve had him take because he’d ‘never heard of ‘em’ (yeah, ok. Sure).

Billy flips the notebook in front of him, between his palms. “Thought you’d need it since you’ve suddenly got a boner for learning.”

Steve huffs a bit at that. He’s not sure if Billy’s trying to torture him with this sudden, strange break in their routine. Not really sure what it’s about. He’s not going to hope for anything about it, because hope is dangerous and he hasn’t been given any warnings to ignore this time. At least last time, there were rules— rules he actively chose not to follow, but still rules. And entertaining a rule-less Hargrove is about as deadly as playing with a safety-less gun.

“Yeah, well,” he sighs, reaching a hand out for it. “Some of us also plan on leaving at some point. Most colleges like GEDs.”

Billy’s fingers play along the edge, run over the bound black spine holding the composition notebook together. His chin jerks up a bit. “Oh, yeah? Where you escapin’ to that you think daddy won’t pay for?”

Steve feels his jaw tense. He steps back a bit, hand tightening on the doorknob. Something swift and hardly noticeable flashes over Billy’s eyes. Steve likes to imagine he doesn’t see it. It’s hard not to, after having seen all the parts of him he hides away.

“Don’t know,” he says stiffly. “Don’t care as long as it’s not here, y’know.”

And Steve knows he does; Billy wrote that script. Steve bought it, plans on producing and staring in it all on his own without his fucking dad looming over him. He just has to get through next weekend to prove to the man that he’s serious about a future, whether or not it’s with the family business.

“Yeah,” Billy says, eyes finally breaking from Steve’s. They rest somewhere around his chest before falling to the floor.

“Yeah,” Steve repeats. He lets go of his death grip on the doorknob, sliding his hands into his pockets. Whatever stockpile he has of Steve’s shit that he’s passing off one at a time, it’s not going to work. Maybe he didn’t make it clear enough. Maybe he needs to be upfront. Something about not having Billy come on his own volition, without incentive, just because, it’s hard to give up. The past couple days, he’s found himself wondering, waiting, for this exact moment. When Billy might show up. Might linger, like he wants Steve to invite him in. Like he wants to know he wants Billy to stay. He does. He won’t. They’re out of time. Time to escape the hollow, instead of finding a way to bare it.

He clears his throat, watching as Billy still holds his notebook too close to his abdomen. Like he’s not ready to offer it. Not ready to have no reason to stay. “Listen, if you find any more of my stuff, you can leave it with Nance or in the mailbox,” he shrugs. Hargrove’s knuckles tighten around the cover. “I’ll be outta town tomorrow night ‘til Saturday. Gotta get the grand tour of the New York office before I can tell ‘im to stick it, y’know,” he chuckles. It’s empty. He overshared.

He had before, to take the obvious overhang of Neil off of Billy’s mind. He talked about his own dad, how sometimes absence and expectations held a different kind of pain, different kind of trauma. He can see it in the way Billy’s arms tense, the way his jaw firms around words he won’t say, floating around a brain Steve always wants to pick, always not allowed to. His eyes fall to the floor, he mumbles ‘So…’ and tries not to feel so fucking small. “I’ll be back on the first, if you wanna drop anything off then, too,” he says, just trying to fill the silence. His heart feels too big. Like he’s burning with the secrets he’d shared that he shouldn’t have. If he keeps lingering, Steve might actually give him what he wants just to make this feeling stop.

“You good?”

It’s tight. Too many words crammed only into two. Steve shrugs, doesn’t look at him.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Whatever.”

He wants him to touch him. To put his always too-hot hands, like he caries California sun in his skin, on him and loosen his muscles. To look at him with those unmasked blue eyes, like he takes the ocean wherever he goes, and make him feel stagnant. To kiss him with those lips, always seemingly shifting like beach sand but really as sure as redwoods, and make him feel steady again. Like he can hope for this. Like there’s more than the hollow.

“Ok,” he says suddenly. It comes out heavy. He can’t hold the door open any more; it feels like staring through the veil of desire— death to the touch. Billy doesn’t want this. He wants to know that he was wanted— that he still is. That’s what Steve reminds himself. He holds out his hand for the notebook. “Thanks.”

God forbid, Billy put the stack of notes in his palm.

No, higher powers always make Steve eat his words.

Billy’s hand is in his before he can really register it; is pulling him through the veil before he knows what’s happening. His notebook is on the floor, his lips on Billy’s, before he even finds his footing.

And it’s terrible. Awful. Bad. Because he’s tried so hard. Done so good. And it’s all for nothing. The second he gets the contact he pretends not to crave, he’s melting into the kiss.

He’s said it before, and it rings true: he’s ill-equipped. Steve’s not capable of thinking properly with Billy invading all his senses, and he bares down with a goddamn platoon, this invasion. Like all those words he can’t say are being spoken through his frantic lips, every word pushed right into Steve’s mouth. The smell of his cologne, of quick wind from fast driving and bad-habit cigarette smoke floods his olfactory. A smell that’s trained him like a dog to let in the intruder. His hands find Steve’s bare skin like they’re hungry for it, starving from the absence of touch, and move over his body with selfish, greedy palms.

Steve’s helpless. He’s weak for it. He lets Billy back him up, back into the house, and turns him to press into the wall beside the door. It slams shut when he kicks it closed. He should have known the thing that would get Billy back into his house would be force, not request.

Steve’s never been one to back down, especially in the wake of Billy. He pushes back against his lips, teeth clicking together, sucks Billy’s tongue into his mouth as his hands slide up his semi-bare chest and over his collar bones, around his neck. It’s like a cheat code, the way Billy’s body falls against his. Slumps, like his touch makes him just as weak. Steve feels crushed, between the weight of him and the hard of the wall.

He bites into Billy’s lip, like he knows drives him a little bit wild, also knows he likes to do that first, and pushes his hands into the tight skin of his chest and shoves. Billy staggers a bit with no more Steve to hold on to. His dark eyes fall on the older boy like a challenge, and Steve’s own chest puffs a bit, fists curling.

“Go home, Billy,” he advises firmly. He should really get an award for it.

He cocks his head to the side a bit, advancing a step and smirking surely. “Oh, you want me to go home? That’s what that was?”

Steve simmers under his skin. His head spins, still drunk on his smell. His touch. The feeling of feeling him. “No. And you know that. It’s fucking cruel and unusual punishment, whatever you’re doing.”

His brow sharpens, eyes suddenly wary of connecting with his. He must not have been prepared for an up-front answer. He doesn’t usually get any, his life like a riddle he’s been unable to crack. Solve.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

Steve scoffs and opens the door, swiping the anatomy notebook off the ground. “I don’t know, Billy. It’s not like you’re exactly easy.”

Billy’s struck by that, the confirmation of that thing he’s always wanted. To be hard to read and unknowable, because all of the things that have known him have left. It feels scarily fraudulent here, to be confirmed by Steve. To realize that maybe Steve is one of the only people he might actually want to know him. Like he won’t leave. Because he didn’t. He let Billy push him away, but he didn’t leave.

He decides to take it in stride. Lean into it. Because, what’s there to lose? They graduate in a week. Nothings promised. And that could be nothing, a big nothing. But it could also be something. A big something.

“I’m here because you’re here,” he says. He wants to say and that’s where I want to be, because that’s what he feels. But it’s hard to say that. To admit those things that leave him feeling stripped and vulnerable and flayed open, able to be crushed and hurt all over again.

Steve rolls his eyes. His body is angled toward the door, like he’s ready for Billy to walk out, to flee, because that’s all he’s ever done. “Of course I’m here. I live here.” It’s weak at best.

Billy steps into his space, puts a hand on the edge of the door and pulls it closed slowly until Steve’s forced to come back inside. Forced into Billy’s space. Forced to look at him. Billy takes a steadying breath. “I’m here because you’re here,” he repeats. He tries to be open, like Steve. To force his mask off.

Steve visibly flinches, his nose twitching with his lip as he takes advantage of the door behind him as a steadying surface. “Don’t do that.”

“You want me to swear on something?”

“Billy—“

He can hear the plea in it. Billy won’t break him. He’d break himself in the process, choosing to suffocate instead of breathe. Being honest is suddenly not as difficult as he thought. That goody-two-shoes, scouts-honor, cringe shit feeling suddenly like, instead of being stupidly vulnerable and delicate, it could help him get the only thing he’s ever wanted badly enough to almost ask for a beating.

“Steve,” he says, soft and sure. “I turned up Bryan Adams.”

Steve sinks against the door. It looks like it hurts. “You hate Bryan Adams,” he says. It sounds like a last ditch effort. Like to anyone else it would mean nothing. But Billy knows what it means. He’s cracked the riddle. He doesn’t need it anymore.

“I love when you sing it.”

He wants to cry. He’s not sure if it’s because, for some reason, the heart mending can feel almost exactly as painful as the breaking when sprung upon like this. He wasn’t prepared for it. For Billy to come here and break him open just so he can nestle inside and tell him he’s ok with it, he’s learning to love things. Maybe it’s not too late.

“We’re graduating. We’re out of time.”

“We’re graduating,” Billy shrugs, let’s his lips tilt a bit. “We might have all the time in the world. Overtime exists, y’know.”

Steve wants to laugh. His whole deficit is suddenly pumped full, though, and he’s afraid. “You don’t know that.”

He seems to readily take the leap. Like he was expecting it. “I know I want you.”

“That’s bold,” he says before he can help it. Because that’s usually his thing. Being brash. Being brave.

The blonde’s hands slide against his waist, the band of his sweats. He tilts his nose up against Steve’s, his proximity drowning out his better judgement. Steve may always be ill-equipped, no matter what. Especially when it comes to Billy.

“I know what this is.” His fingers dig harder into Steve’s skin, like he meant it. It’s the final blow. The last straw, is what it is. He’s glad Billy’s holding onto him, or he’d probably do something stupid like exalt. “I know. It’s not easy, but I know.”

And it’s not an apology; Steve knows better than to expect that. Once upon a time, knowing what ‘this’ is was not a comfort. It was a definition. Lines drawn in sand. And Steve knew, too; agreed and never really meant it. Never really wanted whatever it was to be all it was. He never thought he’d get to watch Billy trip to cross the line instead, and he’s not going to shove him back. Billy better know that.

He wants to say easy was never part of the plan. Wants to say that Billy’s worth not easy. Wants to say he’s known and been ok with it and been happy to love and lose and hurt if it meant he had the chance. But things like that have their place, their time, and Steve has a feeling it’ll come like a wave at dusk, quiet and easy, to wash away all those sand-carved lines.

So, instead, he buckles down. Buckles in. He can be bold, can help Billy be bold. “Do you want to stay?”

When the other boy smiles, it’s like everything before flattens. Crushed under the weight of this new agreement. The timeline is collapsed; it’s dead and gone and past is past and he’ll happily hand Steve the shovel if what he wants to do is fill him. He’s got time for pretty boy to smooth his edges, if he really wants to try. He’s got time to breathe, to be ok, maybe even to love. Maybe he even already does.

He’s got time to not be too late, to not be out of time.

He’s got time for overtime.

#harringrove #harringrove fic #my work #billy hargrove #steve harrington #getting together and working on it at the same time you know how it is

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blizzardfluffykpop · 6 months

Text

Scaredy-cats

Summary: Trying to branch out of your comfort zone, you try a haunted house installation in the middle of March.

Oneshot

Fluff, Meet-Cute, Non-idol au

Trigger Warnings: It is a haunted house, so it has light/minor horror themes.

Word Count: 2,056

Jacob X Reader

[A/n: As @jinkoh said; we watched Wings of Escape together and well, here’s another addition of that brainrot we experienced there. To check out jinkoh’s addition(s) to it you can find ‘em on kebbi’s blog 🥰]

------

This year, you were determined to try things outside of your comfort zone. So when they announced a haunted house installation in March at an old youth hostel near you, you were all for it because “It’s just a haunted house. How bad can it be?” You were confident that it definitely couldn’t be spooky because it was becoming spring, daffodils were starting to bloom, and the outside ambiance would make for a non-scary experience. But what you underestimated was that it still was a haunted house. It wasn’t the outside that mattered. It was the actors and ambiance inside that did.

---Pov Switch---

Jacob had applied for countless jobs and finally heard back on a security job. He was getting desperate, and anything would do for rent money at this point. So when he walked in, he wasn’t sure what the position entirely entailed until the person said, "You're aware this is for a security position watching live CCTV footage at a haunted house?" He nearly threw up, but considering it was also his last option, and that he was running low on funds, he could do it, right? "Yeah, that's fine." He should have never agreed to this. Although, he’s met all the scarers and has been friends with them long before this installation began. He still refuses to enter the ‘scarer floor’ after they decorated it, or he’d feel his stomach tie in knots.

Even driving to work made his stomach turn. His guts twist every time he puts his car in park. All he ever wants to do when he walks up to the building is turn ducktail and run to his car. But that’s money on the line he can’t risk. He goes down the basement steps, unlocks the door, and gets inside, quickly turning on the lights and locking it behind him. He sighed in relief before checking everything over, inspecting all the cameras to see if they were working correctly. Before turning his two-way radio on and going, “Good afternoon!” He hears ten friendly voices greet him back. And he asks, “Anyone on the floor? Or are you all getting ready?” Getting various answers of; “Getting ready.” “Waiting.” “Snacking.” He laughs, “Any good snacks?” “Gummies, you want some?” “Hell yeah.” A few minutes later, a knock rings through the door. He peeks through the peephole and sees Kevin, “You’re not in costume. That’s nice.” “Don’t need you sick.” He puts out his hand, “Gummies?” Kevin hands him the pack, and he asks, “Everyone’s doing the same routine as usual, right?” Kevin nods, “Yeah, as always. Hopefully, no dates go awry this time.” Jacob laughs, “It was cute to see Younghoon take them around, though. It was much more pleasant to watch than your gorey scenes~.” Kevin rolls his eyes, “All I do is chop jello.” Which makes Jacob shiver, “It doesn’t read the same on the CCTV. It really looks like guts.” Kevin shakes his head at him, “Later?” He nods, “Yeah, later.”

He eats his gummies, looking over the main control panel as the ‘night’ starts at the hotel. “Overhead lights off in 3… 2… 1… Stage lights on!” There are little cheers before they get into character, and he refuses to look up, only listening to his two-way radio and hearing the random songs Haknyeon performs every time Haknyeon turns on his radio, “Spooky scary plumbers~” Which makes Jacob tune in and cackle over the radio. He looks at his designated camera and sees him singing his heart out into the plunger. Jacob shakes his head and carries on playing on his phone. He looks up occasionally, assuring no one is actually getting murdered there. And he laughs as he watches a couple cowering behind Younghoon as if that would help their case. Younghoon, as if on cue, turns around with a sinister grin, effectively spooking them. Which makes his nerves stand on end at the motion. He shakes it off and goes back to his phone.

And that’s how he spends the majority of his shift until he hears a door slam over the two-way radio someone’s turned on. He looks up to see Juyeon and Younghoon staring at it curiously. When Juyeon goes over the two-way, “Jacob… Uh… Someone just ran right into the utility closet and locked the door. We can’t help them out. I think Younghoon terrified them too much.” Younghoon scoffs, “I did not!” Juyeon continues, “Sure. Anyways, you’re the only one who has keys…” Jacob couldn’t believe his ears. This was the first time the crew didn’t have the situation under control. And of course, because he refused to do a floor check when the decorations were finally up, a door was left unlocked.

With haste, he looks at his keys and the panel before deciding to go and get you. And with nerves shooting through him, he goes over the two-way, “You all go to our assigned rooms and stay in there!” Eric calls back, “Where do you want me to go!?” “The other side of the building- I don’t care!” He throws the door open after flipping the overhead lights on and rushes into the building as he searches for the correct key. He refuses to look ahead, only down at the floor, “Fuck! Why are there so many fake mice!” He rushes to the room you’ve locked yourself in, and unlocks it. He tries to push it open as he calls out, “Hey!” Inside the closet he hears you yell back, “Leave me alone!” “I’m not a scare actor!” He hears your mumbles, but you still don’t budge from the door. He sighs, “Please come on... This building scares me so much. I want to be out of here just as much as you do.” You ask softly, “You promise me you’re not wearing scary clothes?” “Promise. I’m wearing a jean jacket with flowers on it if that helps.” You sigh, “Pinky swear?” “Pinky swear.”

---Pov Switch---

You hesitantly lift your weight off the door, and he carefully pushes the door in. You cover your eyes with your hands and peek out of them to see his blue jean jacket with pretty painted flowers on it like he said. No blood in sight. And you whisper, “I don’t… I don’t think I can move.” He gulps, “You want to stay here for a minute with me?” You nod, and he walks in and leans against the door. He mutters, “I hate working here.” Thinking he meant because he had to save scaredy-cats like you, you apologize, “Oh, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “Oh, that’s not what I meant!” He looks at you and says, “It’s not your fault! I just get scared easily and like, uh… It’s just not good for a person who doesn’t stomach this well.” You giggle at him and go, “Really? Then why are you working here?” He sighs, “It was my last option left. No one else would hire me.” You shake your head, “Is it good money?” “Not in comparison to being scared shitless every day at work.” You look at him confused, “Why don’t you quit?” “Until I find something else, it makes due. Plus, I've known my coworkers since high school, so it makes it easier.” You shake your head, “Well if it makes due and they’re genuinely nice guys outside of work. I understand.” He nods before asking, “Are you okay to go back out there?” “You can get us through? No scares?” “Yeah, promise, they’re all away.” You hear his two-way radio scratch, “I’m getting bored!!” He rolls his eyes, “Eric, our gardener… He’s a little excitable when it comes to scares. So we better move before he decides to be a meanie.” You agree and he calls back, “We’ll be out in three, no funny business.” “That’s my job, though…” “Eric…” “Fine.” He laughs as he opens the door and looks down.

You follow suit gulping as you exit the doorway with him to see the fake mice, snakes, and spiders on the ground, “Can um… Can you hold my hand?” He nods, waiting for you with his hand out. You quickly grab it and cling to his side. “Not that far, right?” “No, but look down. Mice and snakes are somehow easier to stomach compared to the rest.” You let out an, “Uh-huh.” But your curiosity gets the best of you. You look up and see the amber lights illuminating the spiders and spiderwebs above along with the netting with fake limbs entangled in it dangling down at you. You let out a small, “Yikes!” He laughs, “Told you not to look up.” And you quickly look down with him. Every time the building creaks, you shiver, and he does too. When you see the bottom of the curtain, he says, “Here’s our exit.” He moves the curtain, and the sunlight greets you as he opens the door. You nearly kiss the ground as you mutter countless thank yous.

You don’t let go of his hand even though you’ve made it out. Feeling a sense of comfort with his hand in yours before you ask, “Um… is there any way I can stay with you for a bit until I get my nerve back up to drive?” He nods, “Yeah, that’s fine. I just need to go back to my security room.” “Is it okay if I go with you?” “Yeah.” He leads you along the side of the building and down the stairs. He unlocks the door and leads you in before calling on the two-way radio, “Back to business.” He flicks the overheads off, and you watch as everyone exits their rooms on the cameras. He gestures for you to sit in the spinny chair, “I’m gonna grab the chair from over there.” He points to the corner and lets go of your hand before getting it. He joins you, his knee touching yours under his desk. You watch the CCTV roll, seeing all of the scares live at once, making you feel sick to your stomach again. And he goes, “I wouldn’t watch that if I were you.” You gulp and nod before looking down at your shoes.

He distracts you from it by asking, “So what scared you so bad you ran to the first open door?” “Uh… It sounds silly.” He laughs, “I’m just as much of a scaredy cat as you, so it’s not silly. I promise.” “So uh, the one with the doll face? Yeah… So he was stitching that Frankenstein or something together. And it freaked me out… And when the butler-dude turned away from me to show me to the next room. I made my break for it, thinking it was the exit…” He laughs, and you pout, “I thought you promised it wouldn’t sound silly….” He shakes his hand, trying to hold his laughter back, “No, it’s funny, 'cause I would have done the same thing.” You grin and end up laughing with him. You stay with him his whole shift as he tells you a little about each actor to ease your nerves. “And the doll guy?” “He's a good dancer. But he loves what the two of us would consider scary dolls.” “Oh.” “Yeah, and he calls them cute.” You laugh, “Of course he does. What about you: any weird hobbies?” He shrugs, “Well, it’s not weird, but I like to play guitar and sing.” You smile, “That sounds lovely.” He smiles, “Maybe I could play for you sometime?” You ask, “There’ll be a next time?” “I uh… well, I’d hope so. You seem fun.” You laugh, “You just watched me get trapped in a haunted utility closet.” He laughs, “Yeah, I did.” “But I’d like to hear you play sometime soon.”

You exchange numbers before he turns the overhead lights on and the stage lights off as all the actors head to the basement to change back into their casual attire. You start to leave since you and Jacob already had plans to meet again sometime soon. You figured it was best to get going while the going was good. Until he asks, “Since we both had a scary experience, what do you say to getting some ice cream with me?” You grin, waiting for him to join you, “I’d love to.”

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hugsandchaos · 8 months

Text

Friendship Is Haunting

Prologue Part Two

2,543 words

When Danny started to come around, he was surprised to notice that he was laying on the unmistakable feeling of wood. His head was spinning and sore, but he didn’t think he was anywhere near a wooden floor when he passed out. He also felt something small under him. It wasn’t enough to cause real discomfort, but a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder what it was. His eyelids felt a little heavy, but he had little trouble opening them. To his surprise, there was no light above him. No lampposts, no blinding lights for cutting him open, no regular ceiling light, not even the stars were visible. For a second, Danny thought his eyes weren’t actually open, but then he noticed that there was actually light in the room. It was weak, but enough for him to see the overhead lamp that was indeed there, just turned off, and the small shadow it cast. This definitely wasn’t where he was last. In fact, if the little light he had indicated anything, then he was in someone’s house.

The possible scenarios of why he was in a stranger’s house and what would happen was like a firework setting off in his mind, but they had one thing in common. They all led to him getting hurt. Danny could feel his heart pick up for a second and moved his arms. He tried to push himself up, but a sharp pain shot through his right side. The young halfa cried out in pain and briefly froze, aside from his right arm instinctively lifting up to grab at the site and his eyes squeezing shut. For some reason, probably out of a growing habit, he resisted actually grabbing it. He opened his eyes again and glanced down at the site. He really wished he hadn’t. Two deep cuts trailed diagonally from the bottom of his ribcage down to his right side, just above his waist. A mixture of blood and ectoplasm spilled through the open wound and was already starting to seep into his hazmat suit. The hazmat suit was pretty torn at the wound, but Danny could see some of the swelling and quickly placed his right hand onto the wound to apply pressure. He groaned again as doing so made it sting even more, but it had to be done. He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but he had to fix this as soon as he could. Before it got any worse. Danny gathered up his energy and started moving again. His body felt slightly heavier as he tried to get up, and the sight of a stool made him stop almost immediately. That’s when he realized that it wasn’t a floor he was sitting on, it was a table.

Regardless of this, the new task of fixing up his wound was more important. Danny looked next to him and swung his legs to the side. Surprisingly, he could almost touch the floor already. That made standing up a bit easier when he nudged himself to plant his feet down. His legs were pretty sore, either with exhaustion or the scrapes and bruises he definitely had, likely both. The halfa could still stand, though. Thanks to the multiple fights he’s been in and gym class, he was a bit used to walking with aching legs. Danny firmly placed his left hand on the table and used it for support as his stood up. He stumbled a little bit, but quickly regained himself. Now that he was standing, he could see the room a bit easier.

The table was in the middle of the room, and the little light had been from the moon outside the window. For some reason, the sky wasn’t black. It was purple. Danny looked at it confused. How was this possible? Why was the sky purple? He shook his head to keep himself from getting distracted by the baffling sight. He turned to his left and saw a doorway leading to another room. There weren’t any drawers or anything in this room to hide a first aid kit, so he began to walk towards the next room. Blood and ectoplasm dripped once or twice onto the carpet as he walked. His hand covered the majority of the injury and putting pressure helped, but it would only work for a short while. He had to find supplies to fix it in that time or things would get even worse for him. Danny’s legs had small explosions of pain every time he took a step and put his full weight on one of them, but he still managed even with the slight limp. He grabbed onto the doorway when he got close enough and gripped it incase he suddenly stumbled. He pulled it a little to lessen the pressure on his legs, then scanned the next room.

There was a window letting some light into the very dim room, and it was enough for him to notice that the room took a turn to the right. Danny also thought he could make out the shape of a small side table and a flashlight on top of it. He slowly released his grip on the doorframe as he walked towards it. Once he crossed the room, he picked up the flashlight with his left hand. Danny fumbled with it for a moment with his one free hand to find the switch, but once he did, he had to squint a little bit because the light that came from it was much brighter than the dark his eyes had been very slowly adapting to. Now that he had a better source of light, the young halfa shone it across the room. There was a red, green, and yellow carpet right next to him and a brown couch next to the side table. The opposite wall was decorated with framed pictures, but he didn’t take the time to look at them and completely missed how there were p instead of humans.

On the other side of the room, there were two doorframes. One in the wall opposite of him and another in the left wall. Considering he had to fix the wound as soon as he could, he began trying to run over to the other side of the room. Danny only managed a rushed limp, however, but it was enough to quickly cross the room. He peered into the room on the left first, and was very pleased to see that it was a bathroom. Bathrooms typically had first aid kits, which was exactly what he needed right now. When he placed his left hand on the doorframe, he could feel something on the opposite wall. He thought it was a light switch and felt around it until his hand brushed up against it and turned the light on. He walked inside and grabbed onto the counter for support. He slowly lowered himself down and put the flashlight on the counter so he could use that hand to open the cabinets. Once they were open, Danny looked inside. By now, he could feel the blood and ectoplasm starting to clot. Luckily, he spotted the familiar red and white box with the cross and practically snatched it out.

He placed it next to himself and opened it. One of the first things Danny noticed was the writing. It looked off. He picked up one of the smaller boxes inside and held it closer to his face to read it.”What?” He asked himself. The writing looked like something a doctor would practically scribble something onto a note and hand it to him or his parents to take to get a prescription, and the workers would somehow know what the writing meant and get it. He turned it this way and that to see if he could find an English translation, but couldn’t. Either way, the shape of the box and the picture that showed the wipe being applied to a wound was convincing enough for him to open it and take out one of the wipes.

The wipe stung a little against the cuts, but Danny managed to prevent himself from stopping until he was sure that the site was clean. After that, he took a good look at it. He remembered the big three things he had to look out for to see if he needed stitches, and he definitely thought that with how deep and long the wound was, he’d need them. Danny double checked the first aid kit. The standard kit didn’t usually have the needle or string necessary for stitches since they were mostly trusted with being done by professionals, but his hope was reignited when he spotted a clear box with a needle and string. Danny quickly grabbed it and opened it. He wasn’t a professional, but he’s seen Frostbite do it many times and even learned from him, so he was positive that he’d at least do good enough for it to work right.

He began the process of stitching his wound together with a groan and a squeamish feeling when the needle entered his skin. Whenever Frostbite did this, Danny would have the option to think about something other than the needle poking into his flesh and string being sewn inside it. He hated thinking about it, and not thinking about it helped a little, but now he had to focus. Danny worked very carefully on the task, remembering all the times he’d practiced on a dummy with Frostbite and the dos and don’ts about it, until he was done. After it was over, he breathed out a sigh of relief and reached for one of the roll of bandages. The bandages were oddly smaller, but still worked. He just had to roll them around himself a few extra times to cover up the wound. Once that was done as well, it felt like a weight was lifted off of Danny’s shoulders as he put it all back into the first aid kit. The sense of urgency was gone, and he could finally calm down. The bathroom was rather small, so he could lean back against the opposite wall he was facing and let his eyes close. He just wanted a few seconds before checking the rest of his tired, aching body for anything else that needed treatment.

Click-Click

Creeeak

The unmistakable sound of a door open sent Danny’s relief out the window. He shot up and turned to the doorframe. He couldn’t see anyone, but it was the direction he had heard the door open from.

“Alright, we’ll go together so you can see for yourself that nothing’s here.” A woman’s voice said, somewhere in the house. Danny’s heartbeat picked up again as he remembered that he was in a stranger’s house, most likely uninvited and going to be arrested if he was seen. Or worse. He reached up and grabbed onto the counter. He pulled himself up as two — no, more — pairs of footsteps began walking into the house. He looked over at the window (which was weird because who has a window in a bathroom?) and practically lunged for it. He nearly tripped over the kit he left on the floor and got the bright idea to take it with him. It was theft, sure, but Danny was hardly thinking about that. Then he heard the footsteps getting closer and lost care for it. He just cared about escaping right now with his safety. He turned back to the window and pushed against it. Surprisingly, it opened easily and he was able to climb through. The ground was very close, so it wasn’t much of a drop, either.

Danny stumbled when he had climbed out, but he caught himself with his hands before he could fall on his face. He pulled himself together and stood up before taking off into a sprint away from the house. It was dark, but somehow not as dark as it was inside. The moon shone down and was able to give him more light, so it was clear to see some ways across the field. Up ahead was the large, bundled up silhouette of a forest. Forests meant bushes and trees. Forests meant places to hide. As he changed his direction slightly, Danny suddenly remembered that he was in his ghost form. The next step he took was more of a leap, and his legs merged into a long, black tail. The exhaustion made it difficult to gain height and keep the speed, but the new pump of adrenaline made it a bit easier to keep going. Fueled by anxiety of what would happen to him if he was caught, the young halfa flew off towards the forest.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A few minutes after he had reached the forest, Danny finally stopped and barely managed to land without falling over himself. Above the trees, the moon and the abnormal purple sky had the canopy illuminated enough for him to tell the difference between one tree and another, but down on the ground, most of the moonlight was obscured by the canopy. He nearly hit several branches during his descent and reverted back to his human form out of exhaustion once he had his feet on the ground. Danny landed with heavy, fast breathing and scanned the area around him for anything or anyone. His eyes were still slowly adapting to the dark, so he couldn’t see very well, but no one was there from what he could tell. Still, the anxiety that someone was there, waiting to pounce, was real enough. He tried taking deep breaths and covered his mouth a little to muffle his breathing to hear his surroundings. There was nothing but the crickets chirping. When an owl let out a “hoot” nearby, it nearby scared his living half dead. He turned his head around to see an owl looking at him. Call him crazy, but he could swear that with the little light there was, he could tell that the owl was confused and curious. Other than that, he was practically alone. No ghosts, no humans.

The young halfa continued trying to take deep breaths to calm down, but it felt as if he couldn’t breathe when he did that. Danny yawned and despised the dry feeling in his mouth and throat. His eyelids were becoming heavier, and so was the rest of his body. He remembered something he had seen under the glimpses of moonlight through the canopy when he looked around and turned to the right.

A cave.

Danny limped the whole way towards it. Every step was tiring and hurt, and with every one he kept telling himself “just one more step” to keep going. He almost tripped over a log he hadn’t noticed, but his reflexes were fast enough that he grabbed onto a nearby tree. He waited a few seconds until the dizziness left to continue walking. Finally, he made it inside. Danny lost his balance sitting down against the cave wall a few steps inside and fell onto his behind, but he got what he wanted in the end. It wasn’t the comfiest in the world, but it wasn’t long before he had fallen asleep.

#mlp x dp #dp x mlp #Danny phantom mlp #Danny phantom #mlp #mlp Danny phantom #friendship is haunting #mlp crossover #danny phantom crossover

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toxycodone · 3 months

Note

i understand its all joaks and its lighthearted out of love for this character but it is a little sad to see things like laios being a minimum wage worker and having no friends being described as him being a loser when theyre extremely common autistic experiences 💔 because to be honest i think youre really cool and a great writer and i would like to interact more but it makes me go, is that what you would think of me? my life situation’s not too different from that. anyways i hope you have a nice day <3

no not at all I genuinely like being mean to Laios so take everything I say about him with the world's biggest effing grain of salt because I am just. mean to him in particular lol. i like to kick him when he's down. (evil and mean but to blonde men in particular)

but like. i am not cool at all. like...........ill put it under the cut but yeah.

real shit under the cut bc this ask is making me think! im gonna be real w u nonnie

tl:dr if u dont wanna see whats under the cut:

this ask kinda makes me think bc. i think im really mean to laios too bc he reminds me of myself beforehand (zero self confidence and suicidal idealization) sigh and I really hate being reminded of that. so. again. im really biased when it comes to him specifically and that doesn't apply to you or any of my followers.

and for what its worth i am sorry for making you feel that way.

but also. i gotta say I can 100% relate to him and you. this time last year I was working at Starbucks ( i could only tolerate 4 hour shifts bc i would get overstimulated and my coworkers lowkey hated me.) and had like. 1 friend from high school and the years before that I spent turbo online being constantly pushed out of friend groups bc i could NEVER get anything right socially. I swear the first 23 years of my life I never lived. i went thru hs and college as a fucking. like. creature I felt like i couldnt connect w anyone because I was too tormented by adhd + autism and i was INSANELY depressed and coping w lack of control by having an eating disorder and being doped the fuck up on stimulants. (MY PCP gave me 56 mg of concerta and 5mg booster of adderall i was fucking tweaking on the daily </3)

but like. i started going to therapy and a psychiatrist who made me quit cold turkey for my own good and we started treating my depression and debilitating anxiety (i was convinced a stranger was living in my house in secret but also that everyone in public who saw me was revolted by me and genuinely wanted me to kill myself jkdhsfskdjh i told you i was tweaking)

anyways. i was a druggie with no goal in life and living in my own head and now like. i can look at myself in the mirror and not think "hey. this fat ugly piece of shit should genuinely die" and now people in real life LIKE me. I have friends. multiple friend groups, actually. WITH NOT JUST ND PEOPLE. LIKE, A LOT OF THEM ARE NEUROTYPICAL. And i am very open about being autistic with them and i dont have to mask.

and they still like me! and invite me places! and genuinely want to hang out with me! and they think im smart and get uncomfortable when I say im stupid or too autistic to like. be able to be in public.

it still feels like a dream and in my mind im like "they actually are gonna drop you and make fun of you for thinking they were ever your friends" or like "theyre just doing this bc of the stupid buddy system shit or they think you're a pet this is highschool all over again"

but even tho im haunted by this. its....I can say with confidence its not true.

anyways. i know people say this shit all the time but I will say you are very capable of love and not a loser or anything like that. the thing you're missing out on is the right people. i didnt believe this for most of my life and tried to get myself killed because of it but im glad I didn't because it is genuinely true.

i have spent the last <1 year of my life genuinely being alive. and i wouldn't trade it for anything. idk if thats a sign for anyone yeah. take it

#oof this got deep #suck my ask

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chronicbeans · 1 year

Text

Alright I am FINALLY Making a Fandom/What I'll Write for List

Current Hyperfixation(s): Dead Plate, To Eat A God, Gravity Falls, Coraline, Invader Zim

I'll edit this list as my interests change. Also, there are some notes for each fandom. I'm adding a read more because it is probably going to be long. Some things I write for may not be listed, simply because I'm not taking requests for them. This list is mainly so people know what they can/cannot request.

As a quick note beforehand, though, I just want to post a link to a passion project I am creating! It is an original story, and is very personal to me. I really hope that anybody stumbling across my page or who already likes some of my fandom content will be willing to give it a read or look into it. More information is on my side blog, @tales-from-the-iolite-hospital!

CANDLE COVE:

Pirate Percy, Horace, and The Skintaker. A heads up that these are not the Wiki versions of the characters, and are simply my own interpretations of them.

WELCOME HOME:

Anyone, basically. Yes, this includes Home.

PERSONA 5 ROYAL:

Adult Confidants (just in case, yes, this includes Takuto Maruki) - I will write for them. I think they need more love, lol. I also absolutely adore Takuto Maruki so like... Please request him-

The Phantom Thieves - I will write for them, but no NSFW because most, if not all are in high school. Some might say that a couple of them are 18, but I feel like it would be unfair and still a bit weird for me to write that stuff for.

FNAF:

Adult Human Characters - Mainly William Afton or Henry Emily, but I will also write for the night guards and any other adult human character.

"Animatronics" - If I write for the animatronics, they won't actually be animatronics. I wouldn't really feel comfortable with that, just because most, if not all, are possessed by the spirits of children. So, if I write for them, it will be in a AU where they will just be anthropomorphic animals in their own little world. Kinda like if the pizza chain had a show, and it is the in show universe.

As a heads up, I am not too in the loop about where the FNAF lore has gone, and I only have the first book. So, a lot of the more lore based Headcanons or FICS probably won't be that accurate. I might also try making my own AU based on only the first 3 or 4 games, but I will probably only write one story for that, and decide if I will write headcanons based on that according to how well it is received.

WHAT REMAINS OF EDITH FINCH (WROEF):

Every Adult Character - same rules apply as the other adult characters. I will Headcanons or stories for them during the time they were alive, of course. I have also had an AU idea where the family haunts the house as ghosts, so I MIGHT write headcanons for that, too.

ANGELS OF DEATH/ANGELS OF SLAUGHTER:

Dr. Danny, Cathy, Reverend Gray - YOU CAN'T STOP ME. I LOVE THEM OMG. ESPECIALLY DANNY. I would write for Zack but like... Sorry guys I just don't really like him enough to have any ideas... (No shame to Zack lovers, btw. I just can't get the groove going for him).

FAITH THE UNHOLY TRINITY:

John Ward

STARDEW VALLEY:

All bachelors/bachelorettes. Especially Harvey he needs more love-

PORTAL/PORTAL 2:

Wheatley, GLaDOS, Caroline, Cave Johnson, Chelle, and Doug Rattmann

THE HEILWALD LOOPHOLE:

All doctors and nurses

BATMAN (in general + my own versions of the characters [Chronicverse]):

Just the villains (including Catwoman and those who play both sides). I personally just can't see the appeal in the heroes.

THE DARK PICTURES - LITTLE HOPE:

So I have only played Little Hope, so far, so I can't write for any other Dark Pictures installment. I'll write for any character besides Megan/Mary.

COOKING COMPANIONS:

Anatoly, Karin, Gregor and Mariah.

UNCANNY VALLEY SERIES (House Hunted, John Doe):

Maison Talo, John Doe

TENTADOR LECHES:

Koolie Sterling

ERROR 143:

Micah Yujin

Hazbin Hotel:

Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Angel Dust, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, Sir Pentious

MY OWN CHARACTERS/ORIGINAL STORIES:

I'll write for most every character I create. I probably won't write "Headcanons" if nobody is interested, but I will still write stories for them. Those stories will include x Reader sometimes.

Currently I am working on a story/series called Tales from the Iolite Hospital.

WHAT I WON'T WRITE

No proshipping, MAP, Zoo (I don't count furries as zoo, because they have a human level of intelligence and consciousness), Noncon, Dubcon. Currently no NSFW, but that might change in the future.

WHAT I WILL WRITE

Yandere, chronic illness, specific cultures (It may not be the most accurate, but I will try. I think of it as a learning experience), LGBTQ+, mental health struggles.

THINGS TO KNOW ABOUT MY WRITING

Most everything I write will have some sort of horror or heavy topic in it, even if it isn't a yandere story. I LOVE horror. So, if you don't like horror and heavy topics, or can only handle it at specific times, I understand! It is just kinda my thing. If that is the case, then idk if this blog will be for you/be for you all the time. I will always make sure to try to put trigger warnings at the top of the post, though, so that people are comfortable.

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professional-termite · 1 year

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MallCop HM 2023 Harriota AU

This is an idea that me and @youngstarfishphilosopher were talking about so here's the idea so far...

-William Gracey and Allistair Crump are both rival store owners in New Orleans in this AU. I think Gracey's store would be called The Haunted Mansion Store and would sell themed products, with local legend Constance Hatchaway being a large part of it (she's pretty much the store's mascot). Crump's store would be called Hatbox Supply or something, which earns him the nickname Hattie by the townsfolk.

- Gracey's store is a lot more successful than Crump's because Gracey is just a better businessman in general, so Crump ends up trying to sabatoge the store a lot. Crump ends up paying Kent Owens, the now middle-aged, broke, estranged son of the local priest, to help him steal stuff and sabatoge the store.

- In order to combat the thieves, the rich Gracey ends up hiring Harriet Lee and Leota Curtis (yes I'm giving them both Jamie Lee Curtis references for last names, be quiet) to be the security guards. Leota is something of a local legend, retired cop and town hero, and is a MASSIVE inspiration to Harriet, aka the reason why she tried to join the police force in her 20's. She didn't pass at the academy, however, and ended up working in security.

- Ben Matthias and his adoptive father Bruce Matthias are 2 store regulars, and close friends of Harriet. Ben's wife recently died, which caused him to quit his job, so Bruce ends up spending a lot of time trying to get Ben to apply at Haunted Mansion so he can begin living a normal life again (and also stop living with Bruce, because Bruce works as a professor and can barely afford to feed himself, let alone a depressed Ben).

- Gabbie and Travis Hauss (get it because in the movie they owned the house so their last name is Hauss) are 2 other store regulars, and family friends of Gracey's. Ben is broke as hell and can't cover all his groceries when Bruce sends him out, so Gabbie helps cover some of his stuff because she's rich and nice, which is how they meet.

- Ben catches Kent screwing with the shelves and ends up calling security (Leota) on him, but when Leota starts getting really mean towards him for being, like, an idiot and a failure for being unemployed and essentially disowned by his dad (cuz yk Leota is friends with Kent's dad and also in on all the town drama), Ben steps in and defends him (cuz even though he's trying to sabatoge the place, Kent is really really bad at causing any real trouble, and he wasn't stealing stuff either, and Ben takes pity). Ben tries to clarify that he doesn't really like Kent, but Ben got him off the hook, so Kent has decided they're friends now. There is no escaping him.

- Now that Kent has chilled out, he and Ben make a promise to each other to go job hunting and get their lives back together. Crump gets really pissed that he lost Kent as a pawn and starts actually causing damage to the building.

- Long story short, the whole thing turns into an investigation (that the actual police won't touch since there's no evidence), so Leota and Harriet become an unofficial cop duo and start collecting evidence to prosecute Crump for the various crimes he's trying to commit in order to shut down The Haunted Mansion Store.

This is just a basic outline of the story, I might polish this and turn it into an actual thing later but uhh yeah :D (also yes ofc there's background Ben x Kent how could I resist...)

@creative-soul-22 thought you might be interested in my hm brainrot so enjoy

#haunted mansion 2023 #disney haunted mansion #haunted mansion movie #father kent #haunted mansion #kent haunted mansion #gabbie haunted mansion #travis haunted mansion #madame leota #leota haunted mansion #harriota #harriet haunted mansion #bruce haunted mansion #william gracey #alistair crump #constance hatchaway #mall cop au #au

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devoted-book-nerd · 11 days

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Trick or Treat 2024 letter

Trick or Treat is absolutely one of my favorite exchanges! I love autumn and Halloween so much, and I am so ready for this season. Use whatever inspires you from this section of likes, or the fandom specific prompts, or any of my posts here–everything is organized by season and fandom on my tags page. I’d love any of it!

AO3: Rinadoll (https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinadoll/pseuds/Rina)

General Likes

I really, really love seasonal romances. All the opportunities for sensory descriptions and atmosphere float my boat. Being rained in someplace is a favorite trope of mine–the cuddling, the enforced proximity that can allow for intimacy or truths to be shared, or just being in their own world. This also applies to deepening friendships and found family.

The other big thing I love is touch and caretaking–sensory descriptions of hugs, massage, snuggling, kissing, swats and spanks, punishment and funishment, hair brushing/washing, bathing, caretaking of all sorts, h/c with an emphasis on the c, etc, make me squee. It’s my favorite thing after snow, and I search these things out by tags when I need a happy boost. The day I found cuddle service fics was a red letter day, let me tell you.

Other likes: banter, flirting, romps, shenanigans, humor, affection, teamwork, friends falling in love, competency, fake dating turning real, mutual pining with happy resolution, established relationships, abandoned buildings reclaimed by nature, nature (rain, snow, forests, beaches, bodies of water), and happy endings. I generally prefer emotional and romantic intimacy over sex. I love things that are ridiculously atmospheric.

General Treats: All the seasonal fun!! For autumn, cozy sweaters, scarves, plaid, crunchy leaves, baking, hiking, camping, fall festivals, new notebooks and pens, snuggling under blankets, thunderstorms, grey skies, winds whipping and whistling through bare branches, candles, bonfires, s’mores, apple picking or bobbing, pumpkin carving contest gets heated, baking, hay rides, smell of rain, getting caught and/or kissing in the rain, Halloween, Halloween parties or decor, trick or treating, scary stories around a campfire, pumpkin farms/carving pumpkins, anything that thoroughly evokes the season. A retelling of an autumnal movie or story, like Sleepy Hollow. Super autumnal dates or experiences are excellent.

General Tricks: Ghost stories are a major win. Seances and Ouija boards are great. Witches are great, whether actually magical or just smart women that society hates. Anything haunted, especially musty, abandoned houses or forests. Is it a scary ghost, or a ghost just hanging out in its old space? I love it all. Same with murder mysteries or noir. Terror and/or suspense with a happy ending of survival for the protagonists is also delightful. I love abandoned buildings, towns, islands, etc, and I love anything old and history coming alive, however you take that. Costumes coming to life is a classic that will never get old. Haunted photos. Cursed objects, or Halloween/horror legends or myths are real–I love things like the ghost passenger, etc. Scary stories around a campfire, and they’re true. Trapped in a dream/nightmare, alone or together. If it showed up as a plot in Goosebumps or Fear Street, I will probably love it. (As long as it ends happily for our protagonists.) Feel free to get your spook or horror on.

Combine tricks and treats however you like, too. Stumbling onto a ghost while on an autumnal date? Getting caught in the rain and ending up in a haunted house? Love. Balancing all the cozy and scary is fun. Comic horror is great, too.

All of the above would be welcomed as art, too! My requests are fic, but I ticked the box that I’d be delighted by art extra gifts. Anything drenched in the spirit and colors of autumn or Halloween or spookiness is wonderful. I’m not great with knowing how to describe styles, but I’ve saved a variety of fan art favorites in a tag! https://devoted-book-nerd.tumblr.com/tagged/fan%20art

Please note: I am clearly obsessed with 911 right now! But I promise you that I love my old favorites just as dearly, and genuinely would love to receive something for any of these fandoms.

DNW: watersports, dub/noncon, death of nominated characters, body horror, PWP, self-harm, humiliation/extreme embarrassment, character bashing, unhappy endings, gaslighting, homophobia, and dark, dystopian, mobster, a/b/o universe AUs. Please avoid kidfics unless requested. Please don’t turn canon characters into vampires, werewolves, zombies or other supernatural creatures, but including those kinds of creatures is fine.

Fandoms: 9-1-1, Anne of Green Gables, Schitt’s Creek

9-1-1: Buck/Tommy, Buck/Tommy/Eddie, Buck & Maddie

“This show is my newest obsession, which is pretty clear from my A03 and tumblr. I started watching last spring and have already watched the whole series twice! I absolutely adore all of their Halloween episodes, Chim and Hen’s superstitions, Eddie’s skepticism (except when his own superstitions pop up!!), and the weird calls like the potential ghost. Autumn looks different in LA than in many other places, so feel free to send them on vacations or show off what autumnal fun LA has to offer. I love every character, so feel free to bring in anyone else you like, too! 118 shenanigans are always great.

Treats: Supernatural or paranormal cases that end up having an explanation or left open-ended. The firehouse is haunted–or is it? The return of Chim’s crow. Maddie taking little Evan trick or treating or on autumn excursions. Buck and Tommy try to convince Eddie that there can only be a supernatural answer to something (and maybe even try to play tricks to tease him). Helicoptering off to an autumnal weekend away. Halloween at the station, with activities set up for kids (because Buck refuses to give out smoke detectors again). Pumpkin carving, apple bobbing, corn mazes, or other autumn activities get heated. Honestly, anything from my general or treat likes in my letter would be amazing.

Tricks: Supernatural or paranormal cases. The firehouse is haunted. The Buckley family as a gothic horror story. Getting lost in the woods and feeling eyes on you. Sketchy carnivals. Ghosts, but they’re helpful. Arrive at a place on fire, but every door leads to one of their worst fears/nightmares. Chris insists there’s a monster in his room, and there is. Eddie is pissed off when something supernatural turns out to be real, but he’s still skeptical of everything else. They find bodies in the basement of a fire, and their ghosts are haunting the place. Fun AU possibility: the 118 are ghost hunters.

DNW: Anything less than positive about Tommy (if you can’t say anything nice, don’t mention or refer to him at all, that’s absolutely fine!), plus the above.”

It will surprise no one that I started watching when Buck met Tommy, and instantly fell for both of them. I love how much growth Buck has had, how he’s settled into himself at work and in his relationship, and how he’s still a bit of a golden retriever. He still looks for the good. He and Eddie remind me a lot of me and my best friend, and I love how he has a separate best friendship with Chris that’s outside of his friendship with Eddie or the relationship with the three of them. (I don’t see Buck as a co-parent, but a trusted adult and friend that he can rely on. Something closer to godfather or older brother/uncle.)

Tommy’s growth has blown basically everyone’s out of the water, though. It’s incredible what a backstory and arc they gave him way back in S2, when we saw him change through ten years at the 118, and how much he’s continued to work on himself since then. I love his confidence and deadpan dry humor, and I love how that balance’s Buck’s personality. I also really love how he listens to Buck, and shares his own feelings with him right from the start.

Eddie is a sassy bitch and I love him to bits. His one liners and facial expressions delight me all the time, but I also have loved seeing him breakdown and start to build himself back up again. I hate that Chris is with his grandparents (I see them as harmful caregivers), but I am looking forward to seeing Eddie have a chance to be messy and put himself together much healthier than he’s been since he had to get married at age 19.

Maddie and Buck have such a special relationship, and I love how much she cares for him, and how he can trust her and that love. Her gentle prodding and confusion during S7 before and after Buck was realizing his bisexuality were hilarious and wonderful. It’s always broken my heart that we see in the Buck flashbacks when she was a young teen that she had already been conditioned by her parents to believe that sometimes people can only show their love by being mad. She was set up and harmed just as much as Buck, but I’m not sure she knows how much.

I just love and adore each and every character on this show, basically!

Anne of Green Gables: Anne, Anne/Diana, Anne/Gilbert

“I think this book might be the genesis for my love of incredibly evocative seasonal things. It feels like the perfect fandom for both seasonally appropriate tricks and treats.

Tricks: The Haunted Wood. What if it’s really haunted? Who is haunting it? Is there an abandoned building that seems perfectly romantic in its desolation and hauntings? Does Anne encounter a ghost of a doomed lover who needs to have their story finished? Is there town or Barry/Blythe/Cuthbert family lore about ghosts of torn apart lovers that Anne falls in love with and tries to find and heal? Does Anne fall in love with a ghost? Does someone die and Anne is convinced that it was Murder? Or do those things happen to mostly practical Diana, and she is beside herself? Gilbert has an explanation for everything, but does he? Does Anne convince Diana or Gil to have a séance or use a Ouija board with her, and what comes of it?

Treats: Give me ALL the autumnal fun in Avonlea, all the sensory descriptions of the seasons and tramps through forests and shores and farms and autumn parties and storms and bonfires and food and nature joy.”

All of my tricks and treats and general likes apply here. I really love PEI and nature and would love any Island wandering descriptions. Go as iddily autumnal or spooky as you want, and I will enjoy it very much. Anne is one of my oldest friends, I reread her books constantly, and I would love to see anything about her, Diana or Katherine! (Which you can probably tell from my gifts–I match on this fandom a lot and I keep requesting it because I love the gifts and always want more. <3)

Schitt’s Creek: David/Patrick

“This show is my happy place! I fell for Patrick’s dry sense of humor pretty fast and was sold on the pairing when he confidently told David he’d get those grants. I love his love of control, and his deep love for David combined with their banter and his tendency to troll him so affectionately. I love how David cares so deeply for so many and refuses to admit it because of his history, but won’t stop, and is always there to step up when Patrick is feeling like he lost his control.

Treats: David’s anxiety is heightened and Patrick takes him to one of Twyla’s partner yoga classes, or gets some poses from Twyla to try. How much Halloween (correct and incorrect) does David let into the store, and how does Patrick convince him? Road trips to check out some great autumnal vendors—cider, donuts, sweaters, etc. Patrick insists on throwing a Halloween party at their new home; David’s in for the bonfire and s’mores. A fun murder mystery party—maybe David takes over planning from or with Twyla—seems like it would be up Patrick’s alley. Their shop/home ends up haunted, and it’s all good fun. Patrick stars in Jocelyn’s production of Rocky Horror–does David get wrangled in? They host an autumnal or spooky class at the shop—knitting, cider making, tarot reading with Twyla, etc.

Tricks: A ghost themed escape room really is haunted and David will never let Patrick forget it. One of Twyla’s murder mystery parties goes wrong. (Character death is fine if you don’t kill a Rose, Patrick, Stevie, Ronnie, or a child.) The shop/house is haunted and it’s scary (with a happy ending). A road trip to check out a new vendor for autumnal goodies goes wrong—the place is abandoned/haunted, the vendor is a ghost, the vendor is a murderer, they pick up a ghost hitchhiker, etc (with a happy ending). Maybe that seance class Twyla is leading was a really bad decision."

I really love these two. Their dynamic is really fun—Patrick as service top and caretaker with sass, David needing all the praise and support, but they are good about switching as needed. Patrick is such a troll, and he gets so grumpy when emotions are involved. He’s better at hiding his issues than David is, but they’re still there. David can get pretty tunnel-visiony about himself as a defense mechanism, but I love how he steps up for Patrick whenever it’s needed. I wonder if he’ll get better about stepping up before those low moments as he settles into their future. And honestly, he really is correct a lot of the time, ha.

#911 abc #kinkley #bucktommy #schitt’s creek #anne of green gables #trick or treat #fic exchange

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flameofthescorpion · 1 year

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Ramblings of someone way to hyperfixiated on Nevadas "Nowhere" (Headcanons - Apparatus designs applied)

EYESTRAIN WARNING LATER DOWN IN THE POST!

Sooooooooo welcome to me rambling about outside of Nevada because god we dont talk about the Machine alot and it greatly upsets me so imma do it.

Do keep in mind this is all headcanon and applies to my appartus designs, so it may not apply as well to canon

Now the Nowhere, or also called the "Curtain Of Nevada", is what happens if you leave the borders of Nevada, also called the World Borders

The world border is the main thing keeping the area secluded and together in the world of Nevada, meaning nothing exists outside the borders, HOWEVER, due to this area being quiet big for the Machine to host on one single server, it cut up Nevada into different sections where loading is required, now loading for Nevadeans is simply spacing out for a second and then good is, for the Machine however it is necessary to manage everything on an organized level. The 4 zones would be Nexus City, Somewhere, Nevada Central and due to the Demoniac cult activities both Stygian and the Machine are in unison to have cut the Haunting House into its own seperate loading area to keep the improbability levels at least somewhat contained so it doesnt overflow with the drive active.

If you looked at the image closely you would have noticed some points on the world borders where it says "Enter Zone", Enter Zones are exactly what their name entails. While the world is indeed stable, theres some part of the border where its easier to cross behind "the curtain" than it is on others.

Now what i will have to elaborate on is exactly what i mean in the context of "curtain" Its quiet simple really Nevadeans and mortals in general do NOT see reality as it is, they see a simple illusionary curtain to keep their sanity stable. HOWEVER, the employers are complex enough to see the world for what it really is as they were built by the machine to keep order and to protect its very system which is everywhere and nowhere at the same time

Reality in actuality consists of corners, chains and platforms, or in the most simple definition i can give it The Machines Skeleton.

However only the employers can IN NORMAL SITUATIONS SEE THIS. Is it possible for Nevadeans to Noclip behind the curtain and see what reality really consists of? Yes but its not nearly as clear as the employers can

They can still see of course but massively impaired due to the fact they werent SUPPOSED to see this all. And their vision is not the only negative effects theyll take from going behind the curtain, because there is indeed 2 different scenarios:

Scenario 1: The Employers acting as the Machines security system would most likely notice this new arrival, and Auditor, being the first to usually take care of this issue, would rip them to utter shreds as now this Nevadean would pose a threat to the system due to having directly interacted with it.

Scenario 2: They are lucky enough to notice this isnt good and noclip back before any of the employers get alerted of their arrival. Even in this case they arent truely off the Hook as they either A. go insane from what their mind has just witnessed B. If enough mental collection is present, turn into a disquieted.

Some beings such as The S-3lf Eater however will not be affected by this as it was deliberatly built to suck energy off the Machine, due to this the Employers cant detect it as a threat either, essentially, its a parasite. (that was what the comic yesterday was about BTW)

Reality overall is a topic that not many talk about because only few know of the Machine as a concept, mostly only Dr Gonne, who abused this knowledge, 2BDamned who also abused said knowledge however in favour of the Maker and the Cyberbandits who have a way stronger connection to the Machine as it is "the serverhost".

Is a connection of the Machine, aka the server, ever SEVERED with a Nevadean it would have devestating effects on the Nevadean. The second the connection to "The Server" is gone, the Nevadean will IMMIDIANTLY loose most of their recollection and personality as the machine is the one storing the data of such. In most cases one of the younger employers, either Conductor or Auditor help to re-connect this individual with the Machine....or well if not i think we all know what they would do.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk im so sorry if none of this made sense im very passionate about my favourrite Higher Power, love the metal crab-

#madness combat #madcom #bro i could still ramble on forever #but i wanted this to make sense damnit!

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ziggykyeons · 10 months

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Full Name: Ziggy Kyeon.

Nicknames: Zigs, Kyeon, Stardust.

Pronouns and Gender: He/Him, Cis Male.

Birthday: July 15th, 1995.

Birth place: Aurora Bay.

How long have they been in town?: His whole life / been back and forth to LA frequently.

Sexuality: Bisexual.

Housing: Seabrook Quarter.

Occupation: YouTuber, Twitch Streamer, Attendant @ Comic Emporium. // @aurorabayaesthetic

BIO:

born in aurora bay to an american mother and a korean father, ziggy grew up the only child of a couple who had always longed for a larger family that never happened for them

due to being the only child they would ever have, ziggy's parents were generous with their time, money, love and patience - the last of which he often found himself using up copious amounts of

ever since he was a child, he could recall feeling odd that he had no idea what he wanted to do, what he wanted to be when he was older

none of the cliches held any appeal (doctor? no. racecar driver? no. astronaut? maybe! also no) and by the time he reached high school the unsureness of his path started to stress him out to a noticeable degree

it was freshman year of high school when he decided that distraction above all else was needed, and he made his youtube channel. getziggywithit was initially a resounding flop, barely cracking triple digit views due to the randomness of the videos and the lack of editing

At 16 he made his twitch channel, where he often streamed himself playing horror games. that garnered attention far quicker than his main channel ever did, and he kept himself to a mostly regular streaming schedule to try and ride the momentum

he kept at both and eventually overhauled his youtube channel to put most of his time into curating a presence that aligned with his twitch channel and with a more concrete direction, he eventually found initial online success with his coverage of supernatural events and haunted locations

though he graduated high school, he certainly didn't do as well as he could have if he had of applied himself adequately, but he was too focused on subscriber counts and algorithms to give it as much effort as he should have

with no desire to go to university, he knew his parents would support him through choosing to pursue his youtube/twitch careers full time and so he let them

to feel less like a sponge (and not the bob kind that he thinks changed the landscape of comedy) he got a job at the comic emporium because it was the easiest money he could earn around town while still engaging with something that actually interests him

to this day he's still doing all three, the comic emporium mostly because he's grown fond of it rather than actually needing to and he's kept to his upload schedule more religiously than he's ever kept to anything else

has been debating exploring starting some kind of podcast (because the world needs more of those, clearly)

PERSONALITY.

+ creative, imaginative, honest.

- jealous, escapist, opinionated.

FUN ADJACENT FACTS.

has unironically said "like and subscribe" in a casual conversation but is at least haunted by it

has had a second channel for 2 years now, it deviates from his main content and leans into more talking / commentary videos. was nearly doxed by harry potter adults for joking about the zealous nature of hp stans in their 30s

had a no lines, background cameo in resident evil: raccoon city because of how hard he goes for the resident evil franchise on his twitch channel

huge comic book fan and catches almost every cbm the week of release (or day of if he gets a premiere invitation)

goes to san diego comic con every year and goes all out with his choice of costume every time

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

ex boyfriend of @maura-cortes

best friend of / marriage pact at 40 with @cherryxkoch

sometimes collaborator of @darcyxanthonyx

co-worker of @paxton-brady

friend of @cricketcampbell

family friend / hook up of @milaxclarke

ex-friend of @aeris-flores

real housewives franchise enthusiast with @macaulaymontgomery

SPECIFIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

a roommate or two! he's in the process of buying his house in seabrook but lmao he thought he was going to be living in it with his now ex so that uppended a lotttt of his plans

tba.

GENERIC WANTED CONNECTIONS.

connections wise he’s pretty much an open book right now, but some baseline ideas that can be springboarded off are:

friendly.

a best friend / ride or dies / close friends / childhood friends / pseudo-siblings / friends / drunk friends / new friends / former roommate / people he's met in la / people he met at comic con / fellow nerds / follow horror enthusiasts / fellow gamers.

romantic

flirtationship / friends with benefits / one time hook ups / tinder matches / unrequited crush (can be either way) / blind dates / exes from high school / exes on good terms.

antagonistic.

enemies / former (best) friends / exes on bad terms / frenemies / rivals / negative influence / people who find him grating because he's videos can be a little annoying at times.

#intro.#aurorabay.intro

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theatregaymer · 2 years

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Frankenstein’s Ticklish Momotarou!

I meant to have this done and posted yesterday, but recovering from a party kept me in bed still kinda hungover LOL! So I hope you enjoy this cute little idea I had for these three to be preparing for their party!

It was nearing the end of October, a classic time for people to gather together for spooky celebrations. And it just so happened that the halls of Samezuka Academy were no different. Untold amounts of fake webbing, black wallpaper, pumpkins, lights and various other decorations littered the campus, and a certain club was intending on throwing a bit of a soiree in order to garner donations for activities. Of course it wasn't just a party, there were also a few other attractions being planned, such as a haunted house, some appropriately themed snack stalls and also a few game booths.

Not everyone was ready however, and in their dorm room Aiichiro Nitori and Momotarou Mikoshiba waited patiently for a certain fellow swimmer to arrive with their much needed supplies. "He'll be here soon Momo just relax." Ai told his kouhai, the redhead in question currently sitting on his bunk, tapping his feet impatiently. "Mmm but Ai-senpai! How can I be Frankenstein for the party in time without the paint!?" Ai sighed at this, one hand coming up to rub at his own head, attempting to ease any oncoming headaches from his overly energetic roommate. "Well firstly, its actually Frankenstein's monster. Second, Hazuki-san was just as excited as you were so I don't see him making you wait too long."

The blond had absolutely jumped at the chance to help the two prepare of course, with Ai thankfully not needing much help at all since he was going very basic with just some painted on whiskers and some cat accessories. The silver haired swimmer had learned his lesson in his first year that he was often just too adorable even when trying to dress scary. Nagisa would apparently be dressing as a vampire, likely to have an excuse to nibble as many necks as he could...he did seem like he enjoyed getting attention from as many people as possible.

As if on cue, their door was suddenly assaulted with an energetic knocking pattern that could only be one person. "Yohooo! Ai-chan! Momo-chan! I brought the goodies!" A happy yet already exhausted Nitori walked over and opened the door, being swarmed by a hug out of the blue. "Bwah! Ah hello Hazuki-san." The blond gave a sudden smooch to his cheek for a quick blush from his rival before dashing over and practically running into Momo, before the two were hugging and dancing in place with excitement, like the redhead hadn't been sweating with worry less than thirty seconds ago.In all honesty, all three boys shared a unique but mutual affection for the others, though it was an unspoken rule between them to wait until after Momotarou graduated before possibly trying to begin a poly relationship. For now it was friends first, and Nagisa of course was that touchy feely kind of friend who made no mystery about his affections. Hence why he had agreed to help them with the makeup for the party, having his sisters to thank for his own skills with the brush. "Here, we'll lay out a towel and Momo-chan can lay down on it while we work. I went and found some nice grey and dark green colors to alternate on your body, so off with the shirt mister!" The blond insisted, not giving Momo a chance to do it himself as he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it upwards whilst Nitori applied a pair of longer towels along his bed to protect it.

Time being of the essence, Ai was enlisted to help in the more complex work that would be needed for Momotarou's look to be complete. He didn't need full body coverage, just a majority of his torso and part of his face really. It started out easy enough, Nagisa preparing the body paints while Ai was patting down Momo's skin to make sure it wouldn't affect the paint with too much moisture. Both boys got to work soon after, only to realize very quickly that they might be fashionably late due to a certain redhead's unexpected sensitivity.

"Whohohohaha hah wahait wait a sehechehe that tickles!" Momo cackled out loud, his whole body shifting somewhat as they were barely starting work on his stomach and chest. Ai of course looked a bit less than amused, wanting things to go smoothly to minimize their delay in getting ready, but Nagisa's expression told an entirely different story. "Uh oooh, ehehe didn't know you were so ticklish Momo-chan. But if you wanna look good you gotta hold stiiiill. We'll make it as painless as possible, right Ai-chan?" The blond looked to his fellow swimmer, winking in a manner just subtle enough that Momo didn't catch it. "Eh? O-oh yes, eheh sorry Momo, but you'll just need to bare with it okay?" The younger boy didn't seem convinced, but nodded all the same as he resigned control to the two older swimmers.

"Hmhmmh...mmhmhmhmhehe HEheh Rehehaha rehehallyhyhy? Hehehah aha whahahaithaha wait wait hah I need a breheheak!" Nagisa shook his head, his own brush gently spreading the dark green paint around his abdominal muscles. "No can do Momo-chan! Gotta take it like a man so we can look good for the party right?" Both the blond and Ai were currently each sitting on either side of the redhead, Momo's lower half mostly off the bed as both of the other guys were sitting on one of his arms to keep him from slapping the brushes away. Ai was dilligently applying fake looking suture marks along Momo's waist, knowing he'd have even more work to do if they got messed up. "Hold still Momo-kun, or we'll make you do it yourself." He warned, earning a whine from his kouhai before the sound was quickly overtaken by numerous more giggles. "HMhmaahhah ahah heheheh Ihi'm sahareehehehe haha IHIHit ticklhehehehehshaha!" Ai had to admit in spite of how loud the redhead could be, times like this where he heard his gleeful laughter were cute enough to make it worth it.

Despite the difficulties in getting the front half applied, Momo's torso was more or less completed soon enough, The redhead blushing and squealing when his two friends were each painting over his sensitive nipples. "Pffftheheh EEHEehhahah a-angh!" M-Mmhmhmhm C-comeahahahanhahah!" Nagisa giggled openly at that, knowing the reaction was likely a bit too much for all three of them to dwell on. "Hahaha sorry sorry, here let's get your neck done..mmm Ai'chan, I'll sit on his arms and hold his head." Momo blinked as the two swimmers shifted, his arms both raised over his head. "Eh? Eeeh!? W-W-Wait a sec my neck? Haah!" He jumped, Ai now straddling his hips while the blond firmly seized his head by both sides, leaning in. "Mhmmm, your sensitive neck Momo-chaaaan~ Mmm looks delicious, I might need to take a taste hmhmh..." Momo jumped, squealing as he felt the blond's mouth on his throat, teeth gently nipping and earning the sounds he wanted. "EYehahahah naaah youhuhu two are just teheasing mehehe!" Nagisa stuck his tongue out, Ai sighing with a grin. "Sorry Momo, but I do need to draw the suture marks, It'll be fast so try to hold still." Despite agreeing, the blushing young swimmer couldn't help but make things take longer, squeaking and giggling like crazy with the brush's ticklish bristles gliding along his neckline, this had better be worth it.

Thankfully with a fast hand, Ai finished the markings to look both professional but also uneven, a great job by Nagisa's standards. But the blond wasn't quite satisfied just yet, he had other more sinister ideas in mind as he stayed seated on Momo's arms. "Oh wait while we have you here, hehe we gotta make sure your disguise is gonna look more random, here just lemme start painting this spot too!" Momo couldn't properly see as the blond reached past him, only hearing Nitori mention something about helping to hold him as he leaned forward to press both hands onto his hips. "What's hahappenihihingheEHE AHAHA AH WAHHAIT NOHOH!" A soft and bristley feeling was now finding its way around his open right armpit, the blond cackling above him and insisting it was for realism as the paint continued to spread around the boy's rather ticklish underarm. "AH AHAHA AHHAHAH STAHAHPHAHaahah ah ihihit tickles too muuhuhchah!" Alas this only received a head shake from his senpai. "Sorry Momo-kun, but I promise we only have a few more spots to go. Right Hazuki-san?" Aiichirou looked to Nagisa, knowing that even if both of them were on the same page, the blond was far more actively thinking about tickling the snot out of their younger friend.

The blond nodded, still finishing up his work in the poor redhead's armpit as he took care of making the fake suture marks himself this time. "Mhm he's right Momo-chan. Just gotta finish with your baaack...and your feet!" Momotarou of course cackled in reply, not denying them at all since he didn't see the playful look the older two exchanged while his eyes were closed in ticklish agony already. By the time his arm was done, Momo was weakly flipping himself over, groaning as he at least hoped his back wouldn't be nearly as sensitive as his armpit. "Pfft...A-aahah ah nohoho faair...haha this cohostume suhuhuhcks!" Momo's feet wriggled about, gently patting against the carpeted floor as he felt those soft brushes dragging around his bare back, tracing the shoulder blades, dragging down his spine and swiping back and forth along his sides and lower back as well. If they hadn't been so obviously chuckling along with the underclassman, the two might have even heard a couple of small snorts leave the man's lips as they were having far too much fun at the otter's ticklish expense. Finally it all seemed finished, the young Mikoshiba sibling panting from these exploits, wondering if swimming a relay was more or less exhausting than dealing with this.

"Okay, only one more place to go. Most of your upper body should be dry soooo, we're gonna rotate!" Nagisa's words were met with less enthusiasm than usual, Momo already looking a bit partied out as he got off the bed and crawled into a better position to allow the other boys to each claim one of his feet now hanging off the far end of the bed. "Ooooh Momo they're so biiig! What are these, twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?" Nagisa couldn't see the blush on his friend's face, but heard the slightly embarrassed tone as Momo lifted his face to speak. "mmm...Twenty-eight and a half?" Nitori smiled warmly, already applying the fake looking suture markings to one ankle as Nagisa continued to gush over the boy's feet. While Momo might still be a bit in the dark about it, Aiichirou knew the blond most likely had an interest in feet especially, but never really acted it out more than offering a massage every so often. This of course would not be a massage, as the wicked brushes prepared to deliver a truly ticklish treatment to their trembling little otter.

For the next several minutes, they were shocked nobody knocked on the door to see what was wrong or complain about the noise as Momo writhed on the bed, pulling at the sheets or squealing with ticklish protests. "GAHAHAAAHAH ah AHAh ah wah wahahithehahha no nononahat theherehah EEEHEH Nahat between my TOHOHOEESHHSHAHAHA!" Of course Nagisa and Ai only taunted him further, the silver haired swimmer especially getting more on board as he did find this all rather adorable. "Momooo, you need to hold still or we'll be here all night!" The thought of this torture lasting all night was definitely not something the other boy wanted of course, his fears working their way out in a horrified squeal just as Nagisa was swirling his own brush along the boy's bare arch. "Exactly! And if you keep moving we might mess up...hehe theeen we'd have to scrub em clean and start aaaaall over hehehhe." Oh he was truly so evil, how had Momo not caught on by now? "EHEHE HAha pah plehease nohohahha Ihihi'm sahareeheeehehhehaha ah AHAhaha iththeheheh it just tichihikelehehehsahah so baaahahad! Ah...aahah ah...ah haah...aahah...EHeh...gah...hah a-are we done?" He wondered aloud, the sensations fading as his less ticklish insteps were finished up with only minor twitches or hitches in his breathing.

"Yeees yes we're just about done." Nagisa said, before his eyes glanced down at another pair of soft and delecate looking soles currently upturned. "Hmhm oh Ai-chan, maybe we should paint yours to look like kitty paws with toe beans!" Ai, who was thankfully finished with his work, blushed brightly, his toes curling as he rose up and made a beeline for the bathroom in order to do his own face makeup. "N-no way! Besides I'll be wearing shoes!" His excuse given he quickly shut the door to a whiny blond's protests before he giggled. "Make sure to let it dry Momo-chan! You look great! I'm gonna go meet up with Rei and get the rest of my costume and I'll meet you guys there!" Momo weakly waved him off, still exhausted from this ordeal. "Okaay...thanks Nagisacchi...hah...." The door shut, his torment finally over for now. His muscles twitched, his breath evening out before Momo suddenly perked up and gently pushed himself up with a realization. "Wait...aren't I gonna be wearing shoes?"

#Free!#mikoshiba momotarou #nagisa hazuki #nitori aiichirou #tickling #tickle story #body paint #this was just a random funny idea #these three are too cute

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