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melancholiepeufiable · 8 months

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36, Sebchal with some hurt comfort/fluff

hi anon <3 ty for the request

this took wayyy longer than i hoped it would lol. i’m not sure how i feel about it, but i had a vision. i hope you like it 🫶

36. “Come with me. Please?”

******

Sebastian rubbed his hands together, pulling the door open. A bell chimed above, the murmur of conversing customers and smell of roasted coffee instantly surrounding him. He smiled and approached the counter, shaking the snow off his shoulders.

While he had chosen solitude, people were often nice company… he tried not to think about that too much. In any case, his visits to a café not far from his house were timely. Initially, they were once a month, then biweekly, slowly creeping into a weekly routine. The baristas were kind enough to not remember who he was, asking for his name and order each time without a smile on their face. Maybe that was why he kept returning, maybe he longed for that sense of normalcy.

He accepted the warm cup, spinning around, ready to settle in the small corner between two windows. A spot isolated enough that he could be left alone to people-watch (and eavesdrop, though he’d never admit to it).

Only this time, it was already occupied by a man with messy hair and a thick black jacket. The man held a paper cup in his hand, staring blankly at a spot on the floor.

A red beanie laid on the wooden table.

Seb walked over, catching bits and pieces of conversations he wasn’t a part of. He slid into the seat opposite, displeased when the man kept staring blankly, uncaring to the stranger that invaded his space.

“Charles, you need to start paying better attention. I could’ve been a pickpocket.”

“Yes, I know.” He blinked, raising dull green eyes to meet Seb’s. The edges crinkled slightly. “Hello again, Sebastian.”

“Hello again, Charles.”

Charles smiled, his dimples barely poking out. He looked… defeated. His shoulders were slumped, dark circles more prominent than Seb last remembered, and there was a gravelly undertone when he spoke, like the words needed to be scratched to freedom.

Nevertheless, Seb felt himself start to claw in and hold on to whatever time they had left. “How have you been?”

Charles shrugged.

“What are you doing here?”

“Skiing.”

“There’s a storm coming.”

“Andrea said it’d be good.”

“He’s here with you?”

Charles shook his head, then huffed a laugh as he set his cup down. For a moment, he looked lighter, more like the enthusiastic boy Seb first met. “Joris thinks I need a retreat.”

“Why here?”

He shrugged again.

This was a dry conversation – one-sided in a way he dreaded, yet Seb still clung on. It was the longest he’d spoken to someone this month.

“Well, what a coincidence finding you here, huh?”

Charles said nothing, looking back at that spot on the floor. He lifted the cup to his lips and swallowed.

“Charles?”

“Yes. Pure coincidence.”

He sighed. It was odd being brushed off by someone Seb knew adored him once. Distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, but all it seemed to do was make the ache stronger. Or at least, Seb’s ache. Maybe it was unrequited after all – a reasonable explanation for the tension budding at the table – and Charles could sense it. The boy always knew more than he let on. Besides, plenty of time had passed, if anything, simply by being here Seb was pouring salt on healing wounds.

“Right.” Seb picked up his cup, going to stand. The chair scraped against hardwood. “It was good to see you again. You don’t need luck, but I’ll be watching you on–”

Charles grabbed his free wrist, pulling him back down. “I knew you’d be here, Seb.”

“Oh.”

“It is why I came.”

Seb blinked, settling into the seat once more. He placed the cup down.

Charles’ brows pinched upward, a certain desperation morphing his face into one Seb knew all too well. “Everything is wrong. It– you…” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “It has been horrible since you left.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. I was–I was winning. I had second-place. Why did you have to go?”

He picked at the lid of his cup. “It was time.”

“No, it wasn’t. I don’t– what do I do? Seb, please. Tell me I’m not making a mistake.” Charles shook his head. “I can’t accept that this is all I will be. I want to win, I want to be like… like you and Lewis and Michael and–and I do not want to do any of this alone.”

“You are a winner.”

“I want to be a champion.”

Seb grimaced. “On the bright side, you’ve already–”

“There is no bright side, Sebastian.” He replied sternly. The sharp set of his brow made the hollow of his cheeks more prominent. “I am the champion of losers and I am sick of it.”

“Leave them. Leave Ferrari then.”

He shook his head.

“Take a sabbatical.”

He shook his head again. “No, no.”

“What do you want?”

The twist of his lips, the reddening of his ears, the fidgeting of his hands – they all pointed to a boy struggling against impulse. Charles blurted. “Follow me next time.”

“No.”

“Come with me.” He said earnestly, eyes round. “Please.”

Seb sighed and leaned forward. “Where?”

“I don’t know.”

Maybe they were two lonely people, two miserable men in their own comforting bubble. Happiness might not have been on their plate, and contentment might’ve been fresh sold out on the menu, but they could always try to make their own. They had two sets of able hands and two brains that were as analytical as the other. It was possible.

Seb reached out and took Charles’ hand, smoothing his thumb over roughened and chilled skin. “Are you okay?”

He gave a half-shrug, lifting a shoulder sluggishly.

“Are you here alone?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you staying?”

“A hotel.”

It would be a mistake to give in so easily. Thinking of Charles was dangerous. He invaded a countless number of Seb’s nights and caused many sleepless hours, sometimes extending into the early morning when the sun would seep into the room.

Each night was worth it.

“Stay with me.”

Charles opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. The trust was not broken, but Ferrari was a double-edged sword sometimes. A driver would learn the good and the bad at the expense of knowing who was reliable. Seb knew this.

“A storm is coming. Spend it with me. I can show you my garden. It’s a bit wilted now, but that’s okay. We can have hot chocolate and watch the snow or a movie. I have a dog, Bruno, you’ll like him.” Seb smiled. “I’d rather have you there than not. We don’t have to spend this storm apart.”

Charles looked at him, a light stain of pink high on his cheeks. “I would not like to be left in the hands of strangers if anything goes wrong.”

“I’m not a stranger. So, what do you say?”

He smiled widely, eyes brightening and dimples deepening. “Yes. I’d like that.”

#sebchal #/my writing = mine #/a bit of fiction #/fic crumbs #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel #f1 fiction #not quite fluff #not quite angst #but a mysterious third thing #my inbox

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filiseverus · 9 months

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The Barbie movie reminded me about how when I was little my parents were upset that I kept making my Barbie dolls kiss, so they bought me a Ken doll. The next day they found me having a funeral for poor Ken in the garden, he had died of tuberculosis. All the Barbies were in attendance and I buried him under our rose bush. The Barbies were too poor to afford a headstone (it was 1875) so I didn’t mark where the grave was and I never could find him again. He’s probably still there.

#barbie movie #barbie #feminism #ken #ken doll #i’m just ken #my writing #true story #ryan gosling #barbie dolls #greta gerwig #margot robbie #oppenheimer #barbenheimer #if you ever find a Ken doll wrapped in toilet paper that’s mine sorry

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just-french-me-up · 8 months

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this is a PSA for fic writers who haven't updated in a while :

there are fics out there I'm subscribed to that have gone double digit months without updating.

rest assured the moment those babies catapult an AO3 email my way i'm dropping from the face of the earth to sink my teeth into them

i'll wait, and so will your readers

#writing #writing nightmare #writeblr #writers #writer's problems #writing problems #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writers #this is a psa from me to me honestly #cause I have not abandoned my child #my brain is just suffering from my workload #mine

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lesbianjudasiscariot · 1 year

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#start today!#art #mine #edit #typo #religious #typography #web weaving #text #writing #collage #painting #my words #i dont know what yall expect my username is lesbianjudasiscariot #♡

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fandom-trash-goblin · 2 months

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i beg you to love me, say that i'm enough, but you tell me— why are you like this? i think there's something wrong with you.

for @shestrying

thanks to @acelania for finding the unknowns!

in image / desperation sits heavy on my tongue, tumblr user tullipsink / mary oliver, ‘north country’ / virginia woolf, letter to violet dickinson / in image / blythe baird, from if my body could speak / Alice in Bed: A Play' by Susan Sontag (link in comment) / lynee rae perkins, criss cross / elena ferrante, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay' (trans. Ann Goldstein) / rainer maria rilke, from rilke’s book of hours / in image/ in image

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bishy437 · 3 months

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he won

bonus:

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chillyfeetsteak · 3 months

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I first became fascinated with it a few years ago when I noticed it out an airplane window on a flight from Texas to Southern California. In an expanse of endless desert, suddenly, a vast body of water. When I got home, I immediately looked it up on a map. The Salton Sea.

It’s the largest landlocked body of water in California. It sits right on top of the San Andreas Fault at over 200 feet below sea level. It is more than twice as salty as the Pacific Ocean. It is completely toxic. And I had never heard of it before then.

(photo essay under the cut)

In the early 1900s the Colorado River was diverted through a series of irrigation canals in order to provide water for the farmlands of Imperial Valley. One of the head-gates broke during a flood, and the desert basin filled with water for 2 years before it was fixed. The unexpected lake soon became a popular vacation destination; it was stocked with fish, and resorts and hotels popped up along its shores. It became known as a great place for sport fishing, waterskiing, and yacht parties. Big name celebrities visited. At one point, it had more annual visitors than Yosemite.

Salton Sea has no outlet, and is only filled via agricultural runoff. As the water evaporated in the hot desert sun, the lake became more and more saline. Chemicals began to build up from the run off causing toxic algae blooms, and mass die-offs of fish and birds started in the 80s. By the 90s, the beaches were littered with fish gills and bird bones and the resorts were abandoned. The lake began to dry up as irrigation run-off was diverted away. The exposed lake bed is also toxic, and the high desert winds kick up the dust, making the air poisonous.

Despite the unpleasant odor, the noxious air and the summer temperatures regularly reaching 120°, a renaissance of sorts began in the early 2010s. Artist and nomad colonies began to spring up around Salton Sea. Bombay Beach, once a popular resort destination, is now mostly a ghost town, but the folks who remain have turned the ruins on the shores into an outdoor art installation gallery where the found-art sculptures are cyclically destroyed by the elements and then replaced with new ones. Many of the houses and RVs in town are themselves art pieces.

In nearby Slab City, a settlement of off-the-grid lifestylers, you can find even more folk art. Salvation Mountain is a manmade hill painted with bright colors and bible verses and maintained by a community of volunteers. East Jesus is a sculpture garden and art installation.

This past weekend my partner and I finally made the pilgrimage to the Sea. California has the benefit of being home to a huge array of biomes. In just a couple of hours you can travel from snowy mountain peaks to lush oases to endless sand dunes. Driving the hour or so south from Palm Springs towards Salton Sea is like driving towards the end of the world.

Bombay Beach especially enamored me. The beach is crusted with salt and millions of tiny shells and bones. It smells awful, like sewage and chemicals and low-tide and rotting fish. You drive out onto the beach and park anywhere amongst the sculptures and deteriorating resort ruins. The art feels raw in a way I haven’t experienced before. It reminds me of seeing paleolithic cave art. Humans made this, with no motivation other than to create something intriguing or beautiful or sad. Not much can live out here, but what you find fills me with a great adoration for humanity. Despite the asphyxiation of the natural world, the human spirit persists.

#im sure most people know about this place but i didnt so!!#i hated writing essays in school but now in my 30s i do it for fun apparently #photos are all mine except the first one #salton sea #bombay beach #slab city #salvation mountain

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witchwyfe · 4 months

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karma is my boyfriend - rc

pairing - (non-canon) Rafe Cameron x female reader

précis - a lil princess treatment from rafe :)

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol/alcohol consumption, fluff,

word count - 673

"Rafe, Rafe!?" You're spinning around, looking for your boyfriend until suddenly you whirl around and bump into a broad chest.

"Hey!" You gasp, until you look up and see his face. "Oh! Hi baby!" You coo, reaching up to cup his cheeks.

"Hi sweet girl." He smiles, running his thumb along your cheekbone.

You greet him happily, leaning in to his touch. "Did you get my drink?" You wonder, suddenly remembering why he left you in the first place.

"Hmm, sure did." He nods, handing you an ice water rather than the vodka redbull you'd requested.

You don't seem to notice though, slipping the paper straw into your mouth and slurping it down happily.

"We gonna dance s'more?" You wonder, straw between your lips.

"We can't, baby," He says, smoothing a hand down the back of your head. "They're closing."

"Nooo!" You groan, throwing your head back.

"I know, I know," He soothes. "But we can go home and get some snacks and watch a show...?" He offers.

"Okay!" You're smiling once again, digging your fingers into his tee shirt.

"Finish your drink and we'll go home, kay?"

You nod, bypassing the straw and tipping the rest of the water into your mouth, before handing your empty glass to Rafe.

You're not even that drunk, really just a little past tipsy but you're fine with letting Rafe handle everything and take care of you.

Suddenly his jacket is being draped over your shoulders, coupled with a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you." You simper. You slide your arms into the sleeves and blink up at your boyfriend.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

You lead him out of the bar, arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket, while he has your little purse slung over his shoulder, your phone, his phone, and the keys all in one hand.

"How much farther?" You ask a few moments later, looking back at him.

"Not too much," He frowns looking out at the street. When the two of you arrived at the club, hours before, he'd had to park his car somewhat far due to the lack of space. "Your feet hurting, baby?"

You shrug a shoulder. "Yeah." You nod. "But it's just till the car then I'll take my shoes off."

"C'mere," He says, shoving both of your phones into his pocket.

"What?" You wonder, turning to give him a coy smile.

Your sweet boyfriend kneels down on the dirty sidewalk, taking your ankle into his hands so he can unbuckle your heel. You're flustered beyond words, heat rising on your cheeks while Rafe's rough palm softly works your foot out of your strappy shoe.

"Stand on my foot babe, so I can take your other shoe off." He says, running his hand up your calf.

Once both of your heels are dangling from his hand, he scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

"Are you sure, Rafe?" You wonder softly. "I feel bad, you don't--"

"You have nothing to feel bad about." He assures, lips at your temple. "Just let me take you to the car, okay gorgeous?"

"Okay." You hum happily, relaxing in his hold.

Your arms are sling around your neck and you have easy access to his neck if you strain a little--and you do--at least five times on the way to the car, so you can kiss his neck.

He pretends like he's not flustered by it, but you can see the rosy glow of his cheeks from the street lamps, the harsh light making him appear ethereal and you have to shut your eyes for a second to remember he's real.

You’re still in a fond trance when he uses one hand to open the car door and gently deposit you into the passenger seat. He buckles your seatbelt and tugs on it, before pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Love you,” You croon, leaning back against the seat to look at him.

“Love you so much more.” He promises. “C’mere angel, gimme a kiss.”

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe #witchwyfe writing #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron fluff #outer banks fanfiction #cw alchohol mention

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its-tea-time-darling · 8 months

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im sorry, we turned your boyfriend into a mole. yeah and all of tumblr‘s interested in him now. sorry

edit 9/12/23 11.22 CET

and so it begins…

fic1, fic2 @pathsofoak ao3 tag. Mole Poem @thaliaisalesbian . fic by @tourmelion .

update:

ao3 link. please vote for mole scene in most underrated goncharov scene poll

#come on everyone we can make this a thing #send me any fic you write for mole interest and i‘ll add it to the post #mole interest #tumblr boyfriend #ao3 #mine #goncharov #unreality #< goncharov is not a real movie tumblr made it up #i dont think it’s gonna happen but on the off chance it will: nyt if you link to my blog again without asking me #i WILL have to write omegaverse molefic to spite you again. and it’ll all be YOUR fault #updated the ao3 screenshots bc me and my friend decided to include the mole interest op in the fandom tag #same as was done for goncharov y'know

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glo-shroom · 2 months

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yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul

#THIS HAS BEEN COOKING. FOR TWO MONTHS #trigun #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash #wolfwood #trigun maximum #mine #edit #trimax #trigun edit #tw suicide mention #for that one line #and #tw blood #hopefully there's nothing else I'm forgetting #long post #i guess #pls feel free to critique me on the alt texts I've never done it before and would love to know what I can do better #but uhhh yeah otherwise. enjoy my baby. I'm very proud of this #I do however need to not look at it for a while now #so aside from the IDs if there are mistakes. no there aren't <3 #AND THANKS TO MY QPP EEE FOR LISTENING TO ME ENDLESSLY WORK ON THIS AND OFFERING ME INPUT AND CRITIGUE!!! <3333 #god. it's finally done #edit: btw I could write so much on my choices in this and what I'm going for and little details. but I leave it to the masses to interpret

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melancholiepeufiable · 9 months

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Hi! Could you please write 33 or 40 from the prompts?

hi laurie!!! thank you for the request <33

33. “We’re gonna be fine.” “How do you know?” 40. “If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to leave.” “That’s the idea.”

it was a pleasure to write (sorry it took so long). i combined both prompts into this, i hope you like it! all the love ❤️

******

Sebastian stretched languidly, muscles feeling the burn until he relaxed. His bare chest rubbed against crumpled sheets before he rolled over like a cat, basking in the late Italian morning. Sunlight poured in from the open window above the bed – something Charles didn’t like unless he was indulging Seb’s friskiness, in which case, he never complained.

Charles had a funny way of getting dressed, especially when it came to lunches with Ferrari. Where one would usually find a shirt and then pull on trousers, Charles did the reverse. With a terse frown, Charles opened the wardrobe doors, rummaging until a crisp, white button-up was in his hands. He tsked, pinning the collar between his teeth while he buttoned pressed trousers in front of the full-length mirror.

Seb bit his thumb, eyes roving across Charles’s broad back down to his narrow waist. Muscles shifted and flexed, Charles’ shoulder blades protruding as muffled curses made a home in cotton. Seb heard none of it, too consumed by the sight of pale flesh, scattered with freckles and moles.

Handsome.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

He bit his thumb harder.

Charles sighed, watching Seb through the reflection while gently removing the shirt from his mouth. “If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to leave.”

“That’s the idea.”

He frowned, face twisted between displeasure and frustration. “I have to go.”

Seb groaned, rubbing his face before he whined petulantly. “Why?”

They’d been together long enough that Sebastian could hear Charles’ face. He could put an image in his own head and not miss a single detail, all thanks to the sound of Charles’ voice. Which was why it was so simple to hear the deep scarlet spread across his face.

“Because we’re…” Charles’ throat clicked. Seb watched as he looked down at the shirt in his hands, licked his lips, then returned to the mirror. “We are serious and I would like to tell the team. About us.”

“Why would you do that?”

He sighed. “I really like you, Seb, and I want you to come with me. I do not like going alone.”

Seb couldn’t fight the grin on his face, his insides filling with gooey warmth. He wanted to smother himself with the pillow and kick his feet, all while screaming hysterically. Instead, he chewed his lip and kept watching.

Charles paused, the shirt left unbuttoned, draping across his body. It was slightly too large and not as form-fitting as some of the others, but he preferred comfort over style on days like this. Once, he had mentioned. “It reminds me of you, Seb. You and your suits.” Seb never questioned him again.

“I am worried they will not take it well.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and stood with a scoff. He tugged on the strings of his pyjama bottoms, joining Charles by the mirror. Gently, he slipped the buttons through the holes. “They will.”

“How do you know? They could fire me.”

“Il predestinato. They would never.”

“They’ll sell the story to… to La Gazzetta!”

“Let ‘em. We’ll sell it first.”

Charles’ brows pinched in worry. “They’ll hate you.”

“Don’t they already?”

“Seb.”

He smiled. “We’re gonna be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“We’ve gotten through worse before, haven’t we? This won’t be any different.” Seb ran a hand over the front, smoothing out ridges. “What’s the rush anyway? I’m retired, I can wait.”

“I want to bring you to races.”

“I go to plenty.”

“With me.”

“We have all the time in the world for that. We’ll do this at your pace, like we promised.”

“I’m not doing enough.”

Seb caressed his cheek, the short stubble poking his palm like thorns. Charles’ cheeks blossomed a deep rouge.

“You brought me here, to your apartment. That’s a lot.” Charles began to open his mouth. Seb pushed into his cheek. “No, shut up, listen. Ferrari won’t do anything, it’d be a bigger loss to lose you.”

He smiled, eyes creased in gratitude before leaning in for a short kiss, slowly leaving more and more. It had always been this way. The two of them, tied with each other, so focused that they created their own little world until someone came along to drag them back out.

“I don’t want to go.” Charles whispered against his lips, so quietly Seb felt more than heard it. He held Seb closer, the arm around his waist tightening in that way that let him know Charles was planning to toss him onto the mattress.

Seb grinned. “Then don’t.”

“Really?” His brows shot up, forehead wrinkling in surprise.

“Yeah. We’ll just have to wait longer, but–”

Charles groaned, leaning on Seb’s shoulder all while the man himself cackled. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too.” He threaded a hand through chocolate strands.

Charles chuckled, holding Sebastian that much tighter.

#sebchal #/my writing = mine #/a bit of fiction #/fic crumbs #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 prompts #f1 fandom #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel #my inbox

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tangerinesteve · 6 months

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"Do you think Eddie likes me?" The question leaves Steve's mouth absently, like an afterthought. Wayne watches his shoulders tense as he holds the cabnet door up. His eyes are on the floor. His cheeks going red. Wayne hums genlty, trying not to laugh in Steve's face. If he only knew.

Instead he sits with the question for a moment, keeps working, tightening the screws till they're snug. He nods at Steve, he lets go. Wayne swings the door back and forth a few times. No squeaks. And it doesn't fall off into his hands. He and Steve both nod at the same time, satisfied, Steve's hands dropping to his hips.

"Does he bite you?" Wayne asks, trying to sound as thoughtful as Steve had with his question. Steve stares at him. Wayne raises his eyebrows.

"Eddie. Does he ever bite you?" He repeats, giving Steve a pointed look.

"Oh! Um.. he... yeah? S-sometimes." Steve stammers a bit, his brow furrowing as he rubs at the back of his neck. And then his hand falls to his shoulder. And then drops by his side and clenches. Wayne smiles.

"You ever heard'a cuteness aggression?" Wayne asks, putting his tools back into their box and stashing it on top of the fridge. Steve shakes his head and frowns again. Wayne nods, motions for the small table and sits, Steve following him and sitting across from him.

"Well what I understand of it, and I'm getting this information from Eddie so... take it as you will." Steve smiles, a knowing look passing his face as he nods, and yeah, this kid has it bad for his boy.

"It's when someone thinks something is so cute it makes them violent. And Ed's got it bad. Took him ages to get it under control. What do you think happened to Gilberts ear?" Wayne nods toward the couch where their chunky brown tabby cat is napping. He looks up at the mention of his name and meows inquisitively.

"Oh my god what?!" Steve gasps, his hand jumping to cover his mouth. Wayne snorts.

"I'm just messin with ya kid. He was like that when Ed found him." Wayne smiles. Steve looks at him, straight faced, unimpressed. One of Eddie's favorite looks to wax poetic about.

"Very funny." He says dryly. Wayne chuckles, taps his hand on the table and says,

"I thought so. Anyway, point is. If that boy's teeth have sunk into you at some point. Odds are he likes ya just fine." Wayne smiles warmly, watches the gears turning in Steve's head, his brow furrowing and then relaxing as his mouth drops open in a little "O".

"So he'd say yes. If I- I mean if I wanted to-" he watches Steve swallow nervously.

"If you asked him out. Yes. I believe he would say yes." Wayne just watches Steve, takes a sip of his coffee. Steve nods to himself.

"Okay. Okay cool. I can do this. Awesome. Thank you!" He'd stood, hands wiping at his thighs, patting down his pockets, looking for his keys, before startling and turning back to Wayne to thank him.

"They're on the table by the door. And you're welcome son." He took another sip.

"And Steve?" He calls as Steve's hand hits the door, the boy turns to look at him, wide eyed.

"Yeah?"

"He can be a little... dense. When it comes to these things. Best to be forward. To the point." Wayne nods again, gives Steve a knowing look. Watches as his head tilts like a puppy as he processes.

"Forward. To the point. Okay. I got this." Steve said, nodding, to himself really, before darting out the door.

Wayne shakes his head, smiles as he cleans out his coffee cup and hopes that he'd done right by his boy. He couldn't take much more of Eddie's love sick puppy eyes. And Steve had been doing them for a few months now as well, and it was all too much. It had to be done.

~*~

Three hours later the trailer door slams open and Eddie rushes in. Steve hot on his heels, hand locked in Eddie's as he drags him down the hall.

"Evening boys." Wayne says, nonchalant, from his place near the stove, leaning against the counter.

"Hi Wayne!" Steve calls, happy and polite.

"No!" Eddie says, points at Steve aggressively and then to Wayne.

"No more talking! You two have talked enough today!" He half yells, and then drags Steve into his room, both of them laughing. His door slams shut. And then promptly opens again. Eddie bounds into the little kitchen, right into Wayne's space, and nearly tackles him in a tight hug.

Wayne squeezes him back, feels Eddie's lips press gently against his shoulder and then he's gone. Twirling away from his uncle's hold.

"Thanks Wayne." He says, his eyes bright and shining, his cheeks dimpled with happiness, and, right along his jaw, the imprint of teeth. A bitemark. Right on his face.

Wayne nods, and smiles as Eddie disappears into his room again. He can hear them talking and laughing through the wall as he makes dinner. Dinner for three now. As it has been for months.

He cooks. And he thinks. Three hours later and Steve still had to bite him to get his point across. Wayne shakes his head, smiling as he breaks the noodles and tosses them into the water, happy that his boys were finally happy.

#just a little something i thought of last night #and had to write outbefore i took my nap!!!#wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson pov #steddie #eddie and wayne munson #mine #my writing

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just-french-me-up · 5 months

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every artist ever : woops I've hallucinated this thing in such excruciating details I now can't put it down on paper satisfactorily

#writing #writeblr #writing problems #writing nightmare #fanart artists #writer's problems #fanfiction writing #fanfic writing #like!!!!! the thing is clear in my mind #BUT HOW DO WORDS WORK #and why dont they MATCH #mine

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 months

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He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.

He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.

"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.

Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.

"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.

"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.

"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,

"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.

"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.

"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.

"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.

"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.

His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.

"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.

"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.

But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.

"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.

"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.

Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.

He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.

Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.

It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.

"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.

He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.

"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.

"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.

"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.

"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.

Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.

Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.

"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.

"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.

"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.

"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.

"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.

"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.

"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.

"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.

Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.

Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.

Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.

Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.

He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.

"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.

"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.

Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.

"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.

"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.

"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.

"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.

"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.

"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.

He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.

It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.

"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.

"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.

"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.

"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.

He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.

Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.

"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.

"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.

"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.

"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.

"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.

"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.

Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.

Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.

Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.

Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

#steddie #my writing #mine #my fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #just a random little idea i had

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