#absolutely tooting my own horn here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr is available in 18 languages.

#absolutely tooting my own horn here

starflungwaddledee · 5 months

Note

Hey got a question, is it normal for your heartbeat to beat rapidly wherever you look at really tense or angsty scenes?

It's Just a question I had in mind

putting these together because they're clearly related. i admit these have me a little bit stumped, but i'll take this in good faith and do my best! under the cut because of length.

topics include: physiological reactions to fiction, emotional reactions/empathy of creators, and finally addressing the unspoken question present in asks like this.

"is it normal to have a physiological reaction (heart beat, jitters, excitement, sadness, etc) to fiction"

absolutely! i cannot overstate how common it is to have reactions of any wide variety to fiction. the whole point of storytelling is to make you feel things! the reactions you have, their intensity, and the specific media or genre you'll have those reactions to will vary person to person. in regards to angst in particular, like i've said on this topic before: reactions will vary. some people might get excited, others might get sad, others might feel it like a gut punch but in a really good and cathartic way. none of these are better or worse or more normal or more abnormal than the other.

"do i as a creator have an emotional reaction to the work i'm creating?"

i personally do, sure. i was actually quite explicit in the tags of the comic that came right before this ask that i found it hard to draw, because seeing kirby so sad was emotionally pulverising to me. do all creators? no. do i feel a strong emotional reaction to all scenes? no. or all types of content creation? no. for me, prose is actually much easier to tackle than illustration; i can write trauma and suffering and psychological devastation until the cows come home, but drawing it is a different matter. consuming the work of others is different again. and this is different for everybody. am i somehow morally better or more empathetic than an artist that doesn't struggle to draw characters sad? hell no! being able to represent- in fiction- a strong emotion generally requires that you empathise with or at least understand that emotion. sometimes creators actually have to be able to turn this off to be able to create the content we make; the way we turn off strict adherence to reality in order to write fantasy. if we couldn't do this, content across the board- art, movies, novels- would be flattened to nothing but the cheeriest and most mediocre parts of our day to day lives. no fun monsters (because those aren't real). no challenges to rise above (because those make us sad). no characters who have different experiences to us (because how could we imagine or feel for that). and it would be okay for like... twenty minutes of all books containing 'the sun was shining and i woke up on time and had a yummy breakfast', but then it would suck, sorry. conflict and imagination are the root of content.

"it's just a question I had in mind".

a way to think about this might be; would you ask these questions about genres that aren't angst? would you ask "is it normal to be happy when these characters finally reunite" or "is it normal to feel resolution in response to a happy ending" or "is it normal to feel excitement when a character has their cool hero moment". perhaps it's because your reaction to angst is something you construe as negative, but if you wouldn't doubt your reactions to cheerful content, then there's no reason to doubt the reactions you have to angst either; these are just reactions! fiction is designed to make us feel things, but what you feel will be up to you. no one feeling or response is better or worse than any others.

lastly, i feel like there is an unspoken question here that i don't like.

and maybe you didn't intend it. i'm going to extend that grace to you, and because you seem to need reassurance about this (though i will not be reassuring about this further. i do not like reassurance seeking from strangers and this is a boundary i am setting right now), this is not an attack or even a criticism. your questions are fine if they are coming from a place of curiosity and- i simply assume- that these are new or difficult concepts to you that you have yet to have explored or explained.

but on the good faith assumption you didn't intend it, and wouldn't want to do this again (especially if you message other creators), i think you should be aware.

because it sounds like this: "do the people who make sad/angsty/dark content care at all or are you heartless to the suffering (of these characters). is angst/dark content made by bad people?" i felt it the previous time i got a question like this too when it explicitly stated "you seem like a nice person", as if being a nice person was in contrast with what i was creating.

please. we are just people. the relative light or darkness of the content you make says absolutely nothing about your morals, your real life attitudes, or your ability to be an empath.

someone making cute animal art could be a school yard bully. someone writing a complex sci-fi warhorror fic could be the most altruistic and compassionate soul in the world.

in my experience, creators are some of the most empathetic people i have ever met, and many of them know their craft intimately. these are people capable of stepping into the shoes of others as easily as breathing. of sitting down at their work station every day and finding inside themselves a way to answer "how would this really feel?" so clearly and honestly that they can put it onto the paper for you to feel it too.

#being able to storytell in such a way that the reader feels something is a skill!! it is a Skill and not an accident or a moral failing.#if what someone's work makes you feel is not something you like; don't consume that work!#again... if angst is not for you you can block it from my work with this tag: cw angst #if it really hurts you my work may not be for you! this is a niche i am interested in and am *very grateful* to find others here are as wel #have seen this surprise expressed by other kirby angst/dark creators. it's a seemingly unlikely place but also the most likely place.#lastly: unempathetic creators also exist and are no better or worse than empathetic creators.#because lacking empathy is not a flaw and it also forms absolutely NOTHING about your morals. okay anyway.#once more: i will not be offering anymore reassurance to reassurance seeking. it makes me deeply uncomfortable. thanks.#also not to toot my own horn but that was a banger ending line. if you read to the end that's your reward.#replies

33 notes · View notes

c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year

Note

LISTEN HERE. I adore your Nessian and I plan to devour it all. All of it I say!

So here's my question... Which fic is your favorite? If you could say "OH read that one, read that one!" which fic would it be?

Already read Who's Counting, and Falling for your Fool's Gold has me in an absolute chokehold. So just tell me where to go from here 🥰

First of all, thank you so much for sending and for your kind words! 🥺 I know every fic author has their own way of writing the characters, and I'm so honored that you're enjoying my interpretation of Nesta and Cassian 🥰

But to answer your question...

Haveeee you read my kid fic (and on AO3)? Let Our Hearts, Like Doors, Open Wide is in fact my fic pride and joy. 10/10 in my totally, unbiased opinion lol. But I also love kid fics, so no harm if not your thing!

If you enjoy angst, my Can You Come Get Me? series is also a personal favorite. Really quite proud of that one. Although it is gut wrenching (with a happy ending though!)

If you prefer a one shot, I won't lie, I sometimes go back and read Still In Love With You (and on AO3) from time to time myself, but that also has angsty undertones so if you want pure fluff, then Two Minutes For Hooking (Up) (and on AO3) which is just hockey meet-cute is also a fun fave.

If you want just pure smut, Naughty Girl is the filthiest thing I've ever written...

And if you prefer canon-verse, I've always been super proud of my Kelpie Aftermath fix-it/rewrite fic (and on AO3). I also have another fix-it/rewrite fic that I absolutely adore, but I'm currently in the process of potentially revamping it to turn it into a full blown fic so maybe don't read that one yet.

I hope this helped! And thank you so so so much for reading my fics 🥰

#damn I really tooted my own horn here huh?#also this absolutely reminded me that I really do need to figure out if I'm revamping my fix it chapters or not #maybe I should make a poll #let the people decide #anyways!#nessian #my fic #answered

14 notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 10 days

Note

Lando calling his wife "lovie" got me 🥹🥹🥹

And just the image of him cooing about a milk drunk baby is enough to send my ovaries into combustion!

Would you maybe write a little bit more about it, like maybe Lando posting or sending his family pictures of his milk drunk babies because he thinks it is the cutest/funniest thing?

Note: you and me both, anon!

"Tell me this isn't the cutest, squishiest face you have ever seen!", Lando groaned softly as he admired your babygirl while he walked in the Silverstone paddock, "I have to admit that's a pretty cute baby", Ted said into his microphone.

"Pretty cute? Tilly is the cutest", Lando stated, adjusting the hat on her head to shield her face from the sunshine that graced his home race weekend, "she has her tummy full and she was out like a light, nothing can bother her, she's in her own little world", Lando smiled, delighting everyone who saw the infections of the new father and his babygirl.

"It's extra special, no? Your home race, your family is here - the youngest Norris is here too - and a pole position that by the looks of it could get you a home race win", Ted wondered.

"Yes, it definitely is, we're not taking anything for granted until we race, obviously, but the spirits are definitely high", he smiled, kissing Matilda's cheek as she made a little noise, "I had another question to ask you but this little one made it fly out of my brain, actually", Ted chuckled as he shook his head.

"She usually has that effect on people, you can't really pay attention to anything else", Lando smiled proudly.

"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", you said as Lando stepped out of the en suite bathroom, crawling up to you in bed and stroking the baby's soft cheeks, "He's so sleepy, look at him", you cooed, "he fell asleep with my nipple still in his mouth, I barely got a burp out of him before he was knocked right out", you smiled.

"We make really cute kids, don't we, lovie?", Lando said, resting his head on your chest and facing Fraser, and from your point of view, it was clear this baby would become a Lando clone soon enough.

"So far, they all look the most like you, so you're really just tooting your own horn", you scoffed playfully, "these cute cheeks and pouty lips, lovie? They're all you", Lando charmed, making you blush.

"Can you give her the bottle, please?", you asked Lando, "I need to make sure Matilda is not doodling instead of doing her homework", you kissed Lando's lips and baby Charlotte's cheek.

"Let's warm this up for you, babygirl", Lando said as he put the milk in the bottle and popped it in the warmer, "you're hungry, aren't you? And fighting sleep so I've heard - you gave mummy a full on afternoon", he giggled, pulling funny faces as she giggled at her father's antics.

"Off we go then, open up - there we go, Lottie", he smiled as she suckled, finally get her tummy full as he walked around bouncing her, "hopefully you'll sleep because you really need it, and that way you can also give mummy a little bit of a rest, just so enough me and her can have a cuddle, you know?", he playfully tsked, "you've been stealing all of my cuddles", he giggled as he looked at her precious face. Life had been generous enough with him - he had the woman of his dreams, a career he loved and their three little ones. Life was good.

After burping Charlotte, Lando rocked her to sleep, which didn't prove to be very hard as she was milkdrunk as ever, her little mouth opened as she rested on his chest.

"Tilly is doing fine and Fraser is happily playing with his toys", you said as you sat down on the sofa next to your husband, your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, "take a picture of this cute face and send it to the groupchat, please", Lando whispered as he gave you his phone so you could dot it.

Lando: Look at this cutie 🥰

Flo: Look at her chubby cheeks, I can't!

Cisca: She looks so out-of-it-milkdrunk, I bet she's having a good nap!

Lovie: Seeing her like this almost makes it look like she wasn't wide awake the whole afternoon - she never closed those big eyes, she was always staring at me!

Adam: look at our little girl 😍

"You're so loved, babygirl", you said, brushing the hairs on her head, cuddling closer to your husband.

"Finally I am the one getting a cuddle from mummy", Lando cheered, kissing your lips, "jealous much, handsome?", you teased, "just wanted a cuddle from you, woman! This one has hogged your boobs from me - I have to take what I can get!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

934 notes · View notes

whimsyfinny · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: provocative dancing, slight Sam x Reader, jealous Dean

Chapter Word Count: 4211

—-MDNI—-

A/N: So I had to post this chapter in 2 parts because of how long it was and the formatting was weird otherwise. So here we are, and 2 part chapter! But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8 pt. 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 8 - Part 2

Charlie eventually left after a few hours of convincing Sam and Dean that I would be absolutely fine infiltrating the club without them. At least at first. Some negotiations took place and after a while we all came to an agreement - I’d go in, scope the place out and unlock every door before leaving and letting the boys take over, handing over the intel on who everyone was and where they were stationed. This would make the kills less messy and reduce civilian casualties. Once this decision was made, we ate dinner before the guys went back upstairs to get as much information on the strip club as possible, whilst I went to finish the laundry from earlier.

I’d dropped Sam’s clothes off in his room before I headed Deans room to deposit his. Upon arriving, I twisted the handle and let myself in, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him before placing the neat stacks of clothing on his bed. Patting the top on the piles to ensure they wouldn’t topple over, I was turning to leave when something caught my eye. It was a pile of napkins and receipts crumpled up and tossed in the bin by the door - the same ones that made me feel so deflated earlier today. I smiled, feeling some semblance of relief course through me as I made my way upstairs again. As I walked I pondered; the Winchesters unknowing of the fact that I’d spent a short amount of time taking exotic dance classes. My ex boyfriend had paid for them so I could give him a ‘private show’ in cheap lingerie, and not to toot my own horn but I was pretty good at what I did back then so this should be a breeze. The only thing was that now I had a point to prove, and boy was I going to prove it.

I strode into the room where the boys were - Deans head in his hands and Sam’s face pressed to the inside of a book that was open on the table. He could have been asleep, if it wasn't for the fact that his eyes opened when I walked in. Without saying a word I grabbed an empty chair and set it in the middle of the room away from the desks and bookcases, making both men flinch at the abruptness.

“What are you doing?” Dean quizzed, lifting his head from his hands.

“Proving to you that I’m perfect for this case.”

Dean raised an eyebrow and I was unsure if he was catching on. I grabbed his phone from the table, unlocking it and finding the perfect song to play, settling on ‘Apocalyptic’ by Halestorm. At the start of the music he seemed to realise what was going on and he sat up eagerly, watching me intently as I undid my hair from its ponytail. I ruffled it up close to the roots, putting some volume in there as he went to stand up. I placed my fingertips on his chest and pushed gently, making him sit back down in his chair. I shook my head.

“Not you.”

He looked at me, puzzled; however his jaw dropped when I took Sam’s hand and urged him to stand. Sam had been paying minimal attention and just about knew what was going on when I gently pushed on his toned stomach, moving him backwards towards the chair in the middle of the room. I felt my heart do a small flip at the sheer size of the younger Winchester, this being my first time standing so close to him. And he smelt softer than Dean - less leather and gunpowder and more mint and fresh linens. I looked up at Sam through my lashes, watching his chest rise and fall more rapidly than before as he scanned my face. I smiled.

“Just relax, Sam. I Promise I don’t bite - at least not unless you want me to,” as the words left my lips I heard a SNAP and looked over at Dean, who’d now crushed the pencil he was using into splinters. I couldn’t help but smirk, starting to enjoy this perhaps a little more than I should. I pushed on Sam’s hips, urging him to sit, now in perfect view of his older brother. I stood in between Sam’s thighs and looked down at him, watching how his big eyes followed my hands as I slid them down over his shoulders and chest before running them back up again, tracing a single finger up over his Adam’s apple and tilting his chin up to look at me. The moment his eyes met mine his lips parted slightly and I leaned in close, so close that I could almost taste him. He let out the quietest groan and I whispered over his lips:

“I’ll try to make this enjoyable.”

I was bending over slightly, feeling my already very short skirt ride up. I sashayed around Sam, swaying my hips to the music and trailing my hands over his body with feather-light touches. Every time I did I felt him tense up or let out a small noise, especially when I crouched down behind the chair and slid myself underneath it, appearing between his legs and pushing myself up, my own legs straight and spread wide as I leant forwards. I now faced Dean, making eye contact with him as he watched me slide my hands up Sam’s thighs as I perched myself in his lap, swaying my hips as I pressed into him. I heard him suck in a breath at the contact, his manhood twitching in his jeans beneath the softness of my ass. I brought my knees and ankles together in a ladylike fashion before spreading them wide again, my legs pressing hard into the inside of Sam’s thighs. Deans knuckles went white as I ran my hands over my body and through my hair, biting my bottom lip sensually. Feeling Sam’s hands graze my knees, they slowly started to trail up my thighs as he snuck touches in where he could. My heart fluttered in my chest - his hands were already treating me far more gently than Deans did. I let him touch me for a few moments before I smacked his hands away and stood up. Spinning to face him I flipped my hair back, and slowly - oh so slowly - traced my hands down my own figure. As I outlined every curve I lowered myself so I was kneeling right before him - right between his legs that were spread wide like my own as my bare knees rested on the cold floor. I ghosted my hands up the inside of his thighs as he let out a shaky breath. I smiled up at him, but it seemed he was past the niceties as I noticed how dark his eyes had gone. I drew my hands back and spun around so I was now facing Dean whilst still nestled between Sam’s thighs. The older brother had pulled his chair out for a better view as his elbows rested on his knees as his large palms came together - as though in prayer - in front of his plump, kissable lips. He stared at me, unmoving and barely blinking, as though he were in a trance. Still on my knees, I threw Dean a coy grin before I placed my hands on the floor and walked them forwards, my ass now completely on show to Sam as my denim skirt did nothing to keep me covered. My back dipped in a feline manner as my chest came into contact with the floor, and I couldn’t help but think to myself that I would put money down that Dean loves this position for rough, pleasure-seeking sex. I hummed to myself at the thought of him fucking me into his mattress like this; one large, rough hand on my hip and the other propping himself up over me as he would moan my name and I would lose myself in his bedsheets.

I tore myself away from my daydream by sliding my hands forward so I was laying on my front before rolling onto my back, tilting my head back so I was looking at Dean upside down, my hair pooling around me. I gnawed on my bottom lip again as I planted both feet on the floor so my knees were bent and touching, before lifting one leg as gracefully as I could into the air and pointing my toes. Reaching my arms up, I gently touched my ankle and trailed my fingers over my leg, up my thigh - catching on my skirt and lifting it higher - along the soft skin of my exposed torso and over my breasts. I then dragged my fingers through my hair and over my scalp, my outstretched arms lifting my tank top a little - flashing Sam some braless underboob. I heard him moan and shuffle in his chair, however my eyes were still locked with Deans, and I watched as the older brother leant back and spread his legs a little wider, adjusting himself in his jeans as he laced his fingers together over his abdomen. Without missing a beat, I flipped myself back over onto my stomach and played the previous motions in reverse - sliding upwards so I was on all fours and then back to being just on my knees. I turned so I was facing Sam again, grinning at his hooded eyes and slack jaw as I placed my hands on his knees and pushed myself up to standing. I stepped around him slowly, my hands running down his broad shoulders as I moved to stand behind him. I leant down and whispered into his ear, his head dipping to the side slightly as my breath fanned out over his hot skin:

“Admit it, I’m perfect for the case.”

I watched his eyes flutter closed as he replied in a breathy voice.

“Yes… you’re perfect…” he paused, like he’d forgotten to finish his sentence, “…perfect for the case, I mean.”

I smiled as I stood up straight, catching Deans piercing gaze again.

“I’m going to bed - it’s been a long day. You boys should too,” my voice came out perhaps a little more sultry than I expected.

They both nodded, humming in response as I turned away, walking to my bedroom and leaving behind me at least one testosterone-field time bomb.

I’ll probably regret that whole ordeal in the morning

——————————————————————

Taglist: @justjensenandhisalteregos @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @qinnroki @winchestergirl82 @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @lazygrungekid

Some of the tags haven’t worked so please check your settings if your name is highlighted!

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 9

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #eventual smut #supernatural smut #slow burn #supernatural #spn #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #smut

259 notes · View notes

sinfulseashell · 7 months

Note

Question for Y!Bonten how could they react if their darling escaped from them and started a new life with someone else?

Y!Mikey: Of course the male would absolutely go berserk if his darling was ever to think that anyone else would treat them better than he could, but fear nearly consumed him as he thought for a moment looking over at the host with an icy glare. “Escaping is one thing, but having the audacity to find someone else? Well…let’s just say there would be two less bastards on this god forsaken earth.”

Y!Sanzu: “Oh wow, well I guess one idiot plus another can make a deathly combination!” He cackled. “How fucking dumb could they be to find someone else, but let’s give the benefit of the doubt that my darling had the gall to have another person even touch them the way I do.” His snarl twisted into a demonic grin, “I will show my darling why they would regret stepping foot out of their haven…let’s just say the show would be more gruesome than any horror movie could ever show legally.”

Y!Bonten: Each male expressed a disgusted feature as they shook their heads in unison.

Y!Koko: “So we all agree that Sanzu is never allowed to come these interviews when it comes to murder.”

Host: “Wait…none of you said anything…also…all of you commit murder?”

Y!Rin: “Ok one, we don’t need words to communicate, I know you noticed the silence after his comment. Two, we commit murder because it’s necessary yet this sociopath commits murder as a fucking hobby.”

Y!Sanzu: He emits a boisterous laugh while wiping tears from his eyes, “Ah…it’s true. I have a scrapbook as well.” He smiles happily.

Y!Rin: “Do I need to say anything more?”

Host: “Oooookay…noted.”

Y!Takeomi: “Well that was unsettling…anyways. I wouldn’t say that I would be happy my darling started their life over.” He gritted his teeth at the thought that his darling could find someone else so damn easily…replacing him. The thought made his stomach churn, “As if replacing me would be the best option for them…I would murder anyone who would try to take them away from me.” He growled.

Y!Ran: “Well the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Looks like you and Sanzu have so much in common, makes sense why the two of you are related.”

Y!Sanzu: “How dare you say something so fucking disgusting in my presence! No fucking brother of mine, as far as I know I don’t have family.” He hissed.

Y!Takeomi & Host: 😐

Y!Koko: “We’re not here to discuss their family drama, wait…hatred? Disgust? Whatever. We are not here to speak on that. Now as for me, the fact my darling would even think that someone could afford the lifestyle I provide well,” He chuckles while shaking his head, small chuckling turns to laughter. “Ah…ah ok, ok,” Koko clears his throat to continue. “Besides my awesome joke, I doubt that my darling would even survive without me.”

Y!Rin: “Look Im tired. So I’ll make this quick…whoever the dumbass would be I’ll make sure that have a slow painful death while I take my darling back to have the punishment they deserve.” Bringing himself to stand the male makes his way to the door and leaves.

Y!Ran: “Dont mind him, Rin is just tired from taking care of his darling all night. They were sick.” Ran pouts. “Isn’t that so cute though!”

Y!Rin: “SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!” He screams from the other side of the door.

Y!Ran: The male smiles as he turns his attention back to the host, “What would I do if my darling escaped and found someone else? Hmmm, well murder would be first on my list and once I get rid of them then I would make sure my darling was well.” He hums happily, “-but once I know they are fine then I’ll remind them of why they belong to me.” He smirked menacingly.

Y!Mochi: “I dont believe my darling would have a reason to leave. No to toot my own horn or anything, but these guys are monsters compared to me.” He huffed.

Y!Sanzu: “Quit bitching and answer the goddamn question.”

Y!Mochi: “Fine. If my darling were to ever find someone else…even though I know they wouldn’t. I wouldn’t murder the person, but I would purposely break each and every bone in their body enough to keep them conscious throughout the entire time that way their screams of agony could echo off the walls having their cries be the last thing they hear.”

Y!Koko: “Dear god. We all need therapy.” He spoke while pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

Y!Kakucho: His gaze stays focused on the floor before him as if lost in thought when he hears the host call his name it brings him back to reality as he sighs, “I wouldn’t kill them. Or hurt the person that they are with. I want my darling to be happy then I would want them to stay happy, but…a part of me would take them back with me…I can’t…I just can’t be without them…they mean everything to me…” he sighs in frustration. “If I take my darling back and the other person tries to stop me…well then I would have no choice but to kill them.”

200 notes · View notes

thatsthewrongwallcraig · 5 months

Note

What about any fluff hc's you may have for Euronymous, Gabriel or Kappa it's your choice!

Love your writing! <3

Hello, anonnie! Thank you so much for your request 🖤🌸

I kinda more or less dragged my ass from the last pits of creative burnout hell for this but for the time being, I felt it <3

🌼Fluffy and soft gn!Reader x Kappa HCs, here we go! 🌼

Tagging the horde (gosh, I miss y'all!!):

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

🌼 Kappa would absolutely love to cook for you! Anything from a simple mashed taters with sausages to a full 5 course meal. Pretty much the best van life haute cuisine he could come up with, anything and everything to paint a big, wide smile on your face.

🌼 I just know for a fact that Kappa would be a slave to watching you hang up the laundry outside of the van. With your linen blouse ever so slightly riding up your stomach, showing off some soft tan lines from the plenty of days spent at the beach. He'd be so grateful for you doing the chores, plus absolutely enthralled at the sight of your body in the warm Californian sun.

🌼 Personally, I like to think that Kappa and you would take time out of every evening to listen to your favourite records. Whenever you pass a new town, each of you buys a new vinyl at the local record store to show to each other, to talk about to artist and to have a banter about the lyrics!

🌼 "I'm sorry to report that's immaterial, sugar!" Kappa would murmur to you, with his arms tightly wrapped around your waist after you uttered a something something about feeling insecure about your body. He'd simply sweet-talk your insecurities out of you.

🌼 Uhm...showering alone? Not on Kappa’s watch! 🤨 He'd be squeezing his bum into the bathroom right after you, insisting to lather you in soap just to wash it off with soft and tender hands a little later.

🌼 Immediately after that hot and soothing shower, he'd tuck you right into bed, brew you a nice, fresh cup of camomile tea to sip on whilst you flick through your current, rather addictive page-turner from the gas station the two of you passed about 160 miles ago. It might not be his jam at all, but as long as it has you smiling and cackling at the end of the day it's fine with him.

🌼 Speaking of sleep, Kappa would hold and cuddle you tight all night long. He'd make sure you fall asleep comfortably, granting that'd you wake up well rested for another day on the road to wherever I'd take you!

---

Not to toot my own horn, but if you like the vibe of this, you may enjoy my hippie!Kappa playlist 🖤🌸🖤🌸

#tam rambles #rory culkin #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #kappa #kappa x reader #kappa black mirror

55 notes · View notes

askzloyxp · 1 year

Note

Would you maybe be able to bring other editors on board? Perhaps teach Lyarrah how you do your jazz so she can take over for a couple weeks. Unless I'm mistaken in assuming that her job is just copy pasting the script into the YouTube captions feature. I don't really know how captioning works

Okay, this is actually quite fun to talk about because YES! Youtube's caption system does have a feature where you can get auto-captions made if you just feed it the transcript of the video! HOWEVER, Lyarrah's job on the Recap is not to just do that.

First and foremost, Ly actually handles all of the metadata of the vids except thumbnails. Tags, description and even the titles are all things she has to fill in after I upload, because by that time I have absolutely 0 energy to do that. She also is the one moderating the comments. Even if I'm often the one to reply, she does a lot to filter out the bad stuff and add spam-filters.

Then she has to make the actual captions. Even with the script available, this is actually still a serious undertaking. Because that feature that you just feed the script and it puts the timings in automatically? It sucks ass. The timings are all over the place, it struggles with even the british accent and it couldn't add who is speaking or sound/tone descrptions even if you put them in. And with Recaps specifically, it couldn't put in the parts where the Hermits themselves are speaking, because THEIR LINES ARE NOT EVEN IN THE SCRIPT! What clips to use and to add to the video is mostly decided in the video-editing phase, long after the script is written. So that stuff needs to be added later. But because it's not in the script, the system gets confused about parts where the words that are not in the script are said, and just puts whatever lines in there. As a result, cleaning up after the algorithm takes longer than to just make whole new subtitles. WHICH IS WHAT LYARRAH ACTUALLY DOES.

More or less every video she makes captions for is re-transcribed by hand with the script only as a reference. This results in much better captions where she can even add her personal touch with the emojis to convey tone and all that!

I know there are automated systems in DaVinci Resolve and Adobe Premiere that could output pretty solid captions with working timings, and she's actually looking into that, and will be trying them out. But even then, it will be her responsibility and her choice to use these tools, because she's our captioning specialist. Whatever research she does will still be a load off my back.

But could she just edit the recaps for me? Funny you say that, because in theory? She probably could. Lyarrah and Pixlriffs are both adept video editors, each with their own youtube channels, and perfectly capable of producing videos no worse than what I make. Pix has already edited a couple recaps in the past, and every time he'd deliver on time and arguably a tighter product than what I make. HOWEVER, the trick here is that to get the HC Recap done every week, week after week, on time and with passable editing, when the source material is a dozen videos at least and the result needs to be well paced, illustrative and well, passable, is a whole other ordeal. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but here you gotta not know how to edit, but know how to edit like a motherfucker.

...that doesn't mean "good" or "fast",... just.. like a motherfucker.

And for one, I wouldn't want to put that much work onto anyone, while for two, I wouldn't trust to put that much work onto anyone. Maybe to a professional editor or like, a TV-editor this isn't much, but I don't think I have the funds to hire one, especially when at the end of the day, to me the whole process has long become routine, entertainment even. I love the edit. Which is also why I struggle with stress and burnout the way I do: it is incomprehensible to me that I can't just sit down and do this like always!

One must imagine Sisyphus happy.

#hermitcraft recap #pixlriffs #lyarrah #zloyxp

197 notes · View notes

firsttimewriter92 · 1 year

Text

To be happy

Captain John Price x f!reader Part 5/5

This is part five of “To be injured” , “To be healed” , “To be scared” and "To be loyal." I recommend reading these first otherwise some things in this one will not make much sense ;)

Masterlist

Summary: John is finally out of the hospital. Naturaly you have many things to talk about as well as experience with each other

Word count: 6.285 (big boy)

Warnings: It´s finally here!! SMUT!! Minors do not interact. This is steamy!! PiV sex, teasing, heavy petting, kissing, cursing, reader has an IUD (wrap it up, kids!!), suggestions of past sexual difficulty, fluff, drinking

Authors note: Not to toot my own horn but that made even me tear up a little. I loved writing this so much but all good things must come to an end. So please, enjoy the last part of this series and check out my other work, please :) If you would like me to write something for you, let me know. Please use my post "Brain rot" to see who I write for and what the rules are. Love you <3

The next morning you woke up to a sensation you thought was lost to you. Not even opening your eyes, you felt his hands on you, felt his skin on yours, his beard scratching your forehead, his smell in your nose. Tearing up behind closed lids you snuggled closer to his side, clutching his shirt while he chuckled lightly, fastening his arm around you. “Good morning, little one” he rasped in that delicious, rich timber, making you shudder involuntarily and break out into a grin.

You opened your eyes, a single tear escaping and rolling down your nose. His whole face softened in an instant while he used his pinkie to wipe the wetness away. “Don´t do that, my love, please. Hate to see you cryin´ over me.” He sounded so sincere and raw. Without hesitation you pulled his face to yours and kissed him while gently nodding your head. “I thought,” you said when you detached from him, “I thought I would never hear your voice again.” He slowly stroked his nose over yours up to your forehead and kissed it. “This is probably going to happen for a while now” you chuckled. He grinned against your forehead before looking at you again. “Well, as long as it´s happy tears” he said and smiled at you. You nodded while tracing the lines on his face. “Always” you breathed against his lips before kissing them again.

You lay there for a couple more moments before a knock on the door made you get up and sort out your clothes. Grumbling and seemingly very unhappy he had to let go of you, John pushed the button on his bed so he could sit upright. “Who is it?” he bellowed. It was astounding to you that his voice was already back to its booming, authoritative nature even though he hadn´t used it in six months. The door opened and the first one that entered you recognised was Gaz. You hadn’t seen him since he had visited you to tell you he would be on an assignment for a while. You didn’t know at this point that it was the mission that quite literally brought John back to you. Overwhelmed with gratitude towards the young man you stepped forward and threw your arms around his neck thanking him over and over again. He seemed to be hesitant for a second but hugged your back none the less, patting your back affectionately. When you let go of him you smiled at him brilliantly, he winked and walked over to his captain. “Glad to see you awake, sir.”

You turned your attention to the two other figures that had entered the room after Gaz. Your jaw almost dropped to the floor when you took the whole picture in. A massive man stood a bit awkwardly to the side, hands in the pockets of his solid black hoody, arms stretching the garments material to the absolute max. His face was covered by a equally black balaclava, a painted on white skull reaching from his nose down to his chin. The hood of the hoody drawn up, you couldn’t even tell what colour hair he had. He would have seemed menacing you thought, seeing as you could only see his huge dark eyes at this point, but the way he slowly leaned against the dresser and hunched his shoulders, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to make himself smaller in your presence. Curiously you turned to the shorter man with the mohawk who was eying you with twinkling eyes and a small smirk. He only had two or three inches on you and seemed to enjoy your bewilderment towards the massive soldier immensely. He held out his hand immediately once he noticed your attention was on him. A thick Scottish accent rumbled out of his mouth and right then and there you already took a liking to him.

“Names Johnny McTavish, but feel free to call me Soap. ´S nice to meet´ ya, lass.” You laughed when you shook his hand animatedly. “Soap?” you asked “What the hell kinda name is Soap, ey?” your voice was bubbly and not at all condescending. Soap´s smirk grew only wider and with a very self-assured voice he said “I´m afraid I cannea tell ya, lass. ´S classified,” His head jerked towards the still very quiet man with the hidden face. “That´s Ghost.” Soap winked at your flabbergasted face and turned his attention to John and Gaz. “How ya doin´, cap?” John just shook his head and sighed. “I´m fine, Soap. Thanks.” You looked at the other two soldiers, something dawning on you. “You helped,” you said quietly looking at Soap. He returned your look, waiting for you to finish your thought. “You helped get the gas. You saved him.” Soap smiled kindly at you. “Well, we´re all 141 and this one was kind of personal. Took a long while unt-uff.” His breath got knocked out of him when you quickly wound your arms around his middle. He laughed good naturedly when you squeezed him and mumbled your thanks into his chest. When you let go and looked at him with watery eyes he grinned and patted your shoulder with an encouraging nod.

Not thinking twice about it you turned towards the man called Ghost and walked briskly over to him. You didn´t pay attention to the little sharp intake of breath from at least two people in the room when you hugged the man around his middle. He was running as hot as a furnace, the muscles under your hands and cheek rock hard and twitching. You could feel how he stiffened but to your surprise, he actually pulled out one of his hands from the pockets of his hoody and lay it gently on your head. You looked up at him and although his eyes were dark as night, they had a soft look in them when he gazed down on you and finally spoke. “Like Johnny said, it was personal.” He had a heavy Manchester accent but his voice was clear and deep. His hand moved atop your head and softly ruffled your hair a bit. Thanking him again you let go and stepped back. He returned his hand into his pocket again and held your eyes until you turned around to face John again. His eyebrow was raised high as his eyes snapped from Ghost back to you and the softest smile adorned his features. Gaz and Soap however stared at you and Ghost like they had just witnessed some sort of wild animal taming. You looked at them in question. “What?” you asked when you stepped into Johns space again and sat down on the mattress next to him. “Nothin´” John chuckled and shook his head kissing your temple.

John´s attention was directed at Ghost now when he asked in a stern voice, “Did that woman talk?” Ghost crossed his arms and nodded, his eyes suddenly slits. “Eventually” he simply stated. A cold shiver ran down your back by the tone of his voice. “It´s being handled” he moved on. “By who?” John asked the three of them. “I was on my way out” Ghost stated and detached himself from the dresser. “Los Vaqueros will be happy to have us back, ey, Lt?” Soap grinned. Ghost just gave a grunt. “Mexico?” John asked a bit taken aback. “I thought she was Georgian?”

“Just a decoy, sir” Gaz chimed in. “It´s the cartel. Vargas and Parra are already sitting on hot coals. They´ve been very eager to repay you for helping them out with Graves at the prison.” John nodded and took your hand in his. Stroking your knuckles with his thumb he gave you a smile and looked back at his team. “Let them know we appreciate it. Keep me posted and watch each other´s six´s, boys.” We. We sounded so good coming from his mouth you felt like your face was on fire. You squeezed his hand and nodded along to his statement. They all nodded and left the room with determined strides.

“Great team you got there” you said thickly as you turned your torso towards John again, a lump of gratitude towards them building in your throat. He huffed and nodded, playing with your fingers. “Yeah, they´re good lads.” You laced your fingers with his and leaned closer. He immediately reached out for you and pulled your lips to his. Slowly, gradually your brain registered that he was in fact alright. That he was coherent, talking to you, kissing you like he had the day he left for the briefing. Stroking your fingers over his beard he groaned a little and held you closer. He opened his mouth and lightly sucked on your bottom lip, then let go and whispered against them. “I love you.” He kissed you again. “I´d do anything to protect you unless it means leaving you like this again. ´M not doing that ever again” he breathed against your already trembling lips. You laughed and captured his lips once more. Trying with all your might not to dissolve into sobs again. “Neither am I” you said. “I love you, John.”

_________________________________________________________

Four days later, John was free to leave the hospital. With a beating heart you picked him up and drove back to your apartment complex. Halfway back, Johns phone started buzzing again. Confused he looked at it and with a nervous side-glance to you checked your reaction. You did think it was odd but gave him an encouraging nod. He picked up and immediately put it on speaker. You loved him a little more for that. “Laswell, you´re on speaker” he said quickly. A surprised huh on the other end made you smirk a little. “John. Glad to hear your voice” the woman said sternly. “I´m cutting right to the chase-“

“Listen, Laswell, if you´re trying to ship me out already-“

“What? Jesus, John. Of course not!”

You exhaled the breath you were holding in a loud huff, looking at John with big eyes. He reached over and put his hand reassuringly on your thigh, squeezing.

Laswell continued. “I called because we all universally agreed to cut you some slack. You are not to be called in for at least another six months.” He was silent for a minute and you could hear the wheels in his head turning. His sense of duty tingling and scratching at his brain. “John, I know what´s going on in your head right now and I can only tell you this” you heard Laswell sigh. “You´ve been in a coma for six months, John. Think about that for a second. Half a year you weren´t out in the field, half a year you haven´t trained your body properly. You need this time, John. Take it.” His eyebrows were pinched and he looked angry. But soon he nodded. Pressing his lips together he stroked your thigh lightly and huffed sarcastically. “Copy that, Laswell. Keep me posted about my team at least.”

“Of course, John. I´ll be in touch. Ms.___?” you were surprised when she directly addressed you. You swallowed. “Yes, ma´am?” you answered hesitantly. You could hear her smile when she replied. “Make sure he doesn´t over exert himself. He is to rest and to build up his strength again.” You smiled when you heard him grumble next to you. “Understood Ms. Laswell.” She snorted. “Call me Kate, I´ll be in touch.” With that she ended the call and John slumped back into the seat.

“Don´t worry, love” you said. “Six months is enough to build up your strength again. I´m sure of it.” He suddenly looked smug and the hand on your thigh seemed to become heavier. “I can think of a better way to gain back my stamina than simply running and lifting weights.” His voice dropped into an even deeper growl than usual making your knees twitch. He chuckled darkly and leaned over the console. His lips suddenly attached themselves to your pulse point and sucked once, hard. Your grip on the steering wheel slipped and you watched with an open mouth and a racing heart as he leaned back into his seat again with a complacent grin. “You little shit!” you scolded him which only made him laugh. “I´m going to drive this car off the road if you do that again.” He hummed and lowly said “Well then, my beloved. Maybe you should get us home faster then.”

You managed to stay civil all the way home, up the stairs and into your hallway. When you fished out your keys again though you could feel his heated gaze on your neck and the little hairs there stood up. You opened the door and quickly turned to him. You were right. He was looking at you like you were something to eat and he hadn´t had a proper meal in months. Well…part of that was absolutely true. He looked you in the eyes and with a mischievous grin of your own you grabbed his collar and pulled him towards you. His hands landing on your hips possessively when you started walking backwards into your apartment pulling him with you. He kicked the door shut behind him and took your face in his hand while devouring your mouth.

Little groans escaped you when you realised that you had no intention of stopping him. No intention of running or just staying like this, making out. You wanted his clothes off, you wanted to feel his weight on top of you more than anything. Returning the passion of his kiss you let your hands wander all over his torso. Feeling the strong tendons of muscle on his arms, the heat emitting from his skin cause enough for you to cling even more desperately to him. He tasted like you remembered, his lips felt like you remembered. His hands made their way down your back settling onto the small of your back. You wanted them somewhere lower.

“John” you gasped when you detached from him. He tried to chase your mouth with a little high pitched sound coming from his throat but looked at you curiously. “Hmm?” he asked. “Too much? W-we can wait.” You smiled and looked at his flushed face. “No, no you perfect, perfect man. On the contrary” you kissed him again quickly, so moved by his constant concern about your comfort. “I have no intention of stopping this, do you hear me? I want you so much, John. All of you. All the way. Please, I love you.” He took a deep breath in at that. Sucking in his lips it looked like he was concentrating hard on something. His eyes closed shut, brows pinched, the hands on your hips holding you like a vice. Suddenly he nodded, releasing the breath he had taken quickly. When he opened his eyes again you saw a distinct shimmer in them as well as nothing but pure gratitude and love. “So do I, beautiful” he said stroking your face with one hand.

You took that hand in yours and slowly lead him towards your bedroom. Never ending the eye contact he followed you and halted in front of your bed looking down at you lovingly. You stepped one step back and reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. He gulped and you saw a huge twitch his hands made. Smiling at the effect you had on him you stepped into his space again. With hooded eyes he slowly traced the lines of your back with his fingers until he reached the clasp of your bra, opening it and gliding the straps down your shoulders until it fell to the ground. He hummed low in his throat. “You are a masterpiece, d´you know that?” he said appreciatively. You giggled a little embarrassed. Loving the way he touched you so lightly you reached out and tucked at the hem of his shirt. “Shirt” you said with a small grin. He didn´t hesitate grabbing the shirt by its collar in his neck and pulling it over his head. Again you felt your heartrate pick up. Even six months without proper training or food couldn´t destroy the beautiful planes of his pecks or the insanely delicious trail of dark hair that led from his chest over his stomach and into his pants.

Shivering you glided your hands over his chest, over his wildly beating heart and down to his pants. His hands landed on the side of your neck and he kissed you soundly when you started opening the button and pulling down his zipper. Groaning he hissed a little as his tongue made contact with yours and your pulse started dancing underneath your skin. He quickly kicked off his shoes as you pushed his pants over his steel like ass. Stepping out of them he grabbed the backs of your thighs and quite literally swept you off your feet and onto the bed. Squealing you giggled when you saw his grinning face. He grabbed you by your calves and dragged you to the edge of the bed until your bum was right on the edge.

You leaned up onto your elbows trying to see what he was doing. Taking off your own shoes and throwing them somewhere behind him, he leaned over you and trailed his fingers between your breasts down over your stomach to the hem of your army green cloth pants. You let your eyes wander over his toned arms, flexing fingers and concentrated features. You lifted your hips off the bed. A nonverbal signal to John to continue. And he did. He seemed incredibly eager to get to a certain point because the moment your ass left the bed he grabbed the hem of your pants and panties and pulled, effectively ridding you of your remaining clothes. Bare as the day you were born you lay on your bed, legs dangling from the edge. Recipient of the most fiery gaze anyone had ever given you. John was standing tall, chest heaving and little droplets of sweat clinging to his temple. He breathed out in awe.

“Bloody Christ, woman. Don´t know how long I´ve been dreaming about this. You are a vision, darling.” The strong muscles of his thighs flexed when he started to go down on his knees in front of you. You sat up and looked at him in disbelieve. “What are you doing?” you asked with big eyes. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “What does it look like? I´m ´bout to have myself a five star meal, I´m sure.” Your breath hitched in your throat when you slowly moved his palms over your thighs. Moving them to the inside he gently prodded you to open up to him. While letting him you said “You don’t have to do this though.”

He stopped and stared at your centre that was revealed to him licking his lips slowly. “Now why would I deprive myself of that?” Making eye contact, he looked at you lovingly and grabbed your thighs a little stronger. “How much experience do you have with this, my love?” You looked away for a second, a little ashamed. He waited patiently. Sighing you looked back at him. “Not that much to be honest. He…he always said he found it…unhygienic.” His eyes took on a steely emotion. “I want you to be very honest with me now,___. Can you do that?” he asked with a low voice. You nodded your head quickly.

“Did he ask you for blow jobs?”

You nodded again.

“Did you give them to him?”

Another short nod. He took your face in his hands slowly stroking your cheeks. “I´m goin´ to rip him apart.” He stated while nodding to himself. You smiled briefly.

“Little one” he said sweetly and smiled at you. “Answer this honestly. When you think about me between your thighs, tasting you, does that arouse you or not?” Heat spread over your whole body thinking about it. “It does. It´s you” you answered truthfully. His mouth twitched into a lopsided grin and his pupils dilated. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?” he asked. Slowly you nodded and sank back onto your bed. Closing your eyes, you fust wanted to feel him. With a satisfied hum he again took a hold of your thighs and pulled them apart further.

The moment you felt his hot breath right where you needed it most you moaned quietly, grabbing your comforter for support. He started slowly, kissing your mound lightly, moving down over your lips to your entrance. Your limbs twitched which only spurred him on. Poking out his tongue he started carefully licking you up and down. This time your moan was not quiet at all. It felt like heaven, the way his beard scratched your sensitive skin, the sinful groan that came from him when he tasted you. He wanted more! Flattening his tongue he began to really taste you, sending you into oblivion with every lick, kiss or caress of his nose. Your breath already coming out in pants, your hand found his way into his hair. He detached from you only a little. “That´s it, baby. Hold onto my hair, you can pull it. Bloody hell you taste like my every dream come true. Knew it.” You whined a little and with a chuckle he dove his tongue right into your entrance. Your back arching you squealed your delight towards your ceiling. Eyes unseeing. “Need to prepare you a little bit, love. Can I use my fingers on you?” he panted against your drenched pussy. “Fuck, John, of course. Please” you whimpered and lifted your hips towards him.

Never ending his delicious assault on your pussy he slowly inserted one finger into you, groaning. Moving it lightly he soon used a second one. The moment he simultaneously sucked your clit between his lips you knew you were done for. “John, fuck! What are you-? Oh gods! Hmmm.” His one hand on your hip pressed it down with more pressure as he maintained his ministrations. “Let go for me. Let go, come on. Want it! Please, sweetheart. Let me have it” he encouraged you. “Want to hear you so bad.” His fingers hooked ever so slightly and a scream ripped itself from your throat when you felt your walls clenching and an overwhelming sensation travel down your legs to your toes. “Baby,” you gasped. “John, I-“ “That´s it, love. Let it happen. I´m right here with you, come on. For me, please.” Your toes curling, you blindly pulled on his hair as lightning strike after lightning strike shot through your body. A long moan of his name left your mouth ending in an almost pathetic hiccup. He held you through it, letting you come down slowly, patiently, devoted.

You lay there an utter mess, concentrating on your still twitching insides while he hummed appreciatively, kissing and licking away the wetness on your pussy and thighs. “Thank you, little one. So delicious. So sweet. Love your reaction to me. Was that good for you, baby? Answer me” he pleaded in a sweet, hushed tone. Trying to reassemble your brain you babbled something incoherent which made him, honest to the gods, giggle. Wiping his beard on your comforter he came up from between your thighs and grinned at you. His face was flushed, chin still slightly glistening and eyes basically black. He put his arm underneath your back and basically dragged you up the bed until your swimming head lay on your pillows and he could lay there next to you. Kissing your shoulder and moving his big hands over your hip he waited for your bated breath to normalise again. When it did, you looked at him and pulled him down to you in a passionate kiss which he eagerly returned.

“That was unbelievable” you chuckled against his mouth. “Holy goddamn shit!” He laughed lightly at your outburst. “You alright?” he asked. “I´m perfect, John. Although…” you drifted of a little, raking your hands through his chest hair, feeling the rumble emitting from it. “What is it?” he asked softly. You suddenly grinned mischievously at him and threw your whole weight into him turning him on his back. He went willingly with a chuckle. You knew full well he helped you out by pulling you on top of him by your hips, otherwise there was simply no way you would be able to move this tank of a man. You got comfortable on his lap and finally felt the very hot and insistent bulge pressed against you. He hissed and pushed his head back into the pillows. With a strained breath he looked up at you with pure adoration. “Well, what´s this then?” he asked breathily. You moved your hips slightly over his bulge and his eyes widened shortly. “Want to feel you, John. All of you” you said while stoking your hands up his stomach and to his chest.

“Fuck, woman, anything you want. Name it and it´s yours.” His hands coming to grip your waist possessively you grinned and leaned down taking his lips with yours. Groaning deeply he immediately tangled his tongue with yours, his hands wandering down to your ass, grabbing your flesh and guiding it rhythmically over his dick. You felt it hot and hard against your already wet entrance and moaned sweetly into his mouth. “Make me so fucking crazy” he rasped. “Such a hot little pussy. And all for me, right? ___, tell me. Tell me you´re mine.” He sounded almost desperate. “Of course, John. Of course I´m yours. Please, let me make you mine.” His one hand came up and held your jaw gently, making you look at him. His blissed out face was the embodiment of pure sin when he held your eyes pointedly and answered you. “I was yours the moment I first felt your hands on me. Even more so when I registered that you came to the hospital every day. I wanted to scream that I loved you the moment I was able to hear you again.” With wet eyes you kissed him as hard as you could, desperately reaching for his boxer briefs. With a bit of a struggle he helped you get them off.

Sitting back down on him you groaned when you pussy parted for his length and his tip bumped your clit. Moving back and forth to coat him in your slick he began breathing raggedly. He grabbed your hands and laced his fingers with yours. When his tip was caught slightly by your entrance he hissed and spoke. “Baby…protection.” Your heart swelled inside your chest and you smiled down at him. “I have an IUD. And it´s been a while for both of us so….John, I don´t want any barrier between us. Is that alright with you?” He looked at you like you were some kind of mythical creature that captivated his entire being. “Just when I thought you couldn´t get anymore perfect.”

You grinned and slowly moved one of your hands towards your centre. His dick already pulsing in your hand you guided him to a perfect angle and devastatingly slowly sank down on him. His breath was punched out of his lungs and a sinful, loud moan left his kiss swollen lips. His breaths came out in short pants when you started moving. The delicious stretch you felt was nothing compared to the feeling he gave you back. Being able to completely let go and think about nothing else but the man you loved being inside you elated you to no end. Throwing your head back and clutching both his hands again you swirled your hips, drowning in the way his course hair tickled the inside of your thighs, enhancing your pleasure immensely. “Fuck, gorgeous. So good. You feel better that I had ever hoped. My beautiful girl. Shit, ah!” You began lifting your hips and singing down on him in a steady rhythm. The drag of his dick inside your walls a feeling you had never known before. He reached spots inside you, you didn’t know existed and made your vision blurry. Your mouth hung open when you breathed heavily, moaning slightly with every lift and fall.

When you increased your speed he started meeting you half way. Gripping onto your hips like a lifeline you knew there would be marks there tomorrow. You would wear them like a medal. His eyebrows pinched together and he bared his teeth, lifting his hips into you with strong movements. Looking at him again you found him staring already. Slowly he let go of your hands and moved his torso. He sat up and grabbed your ass, looking at you with a mixture of strain and extasy. “I got you, baby. Want to taste you again” he growled and licked a long stripe from your collarbone up your neck. Goosebumps scattered over your sweaty, heated skin and your walls gripped him tighter. “Fuck!” he yelped and pushed your ass impossibly closer to his hips. “Sweetheart, I´m not going to last much longer. Bloody god, you´re killing me. My little one, my sweet girl. Jesus, aargh!” He sounded like his common sense had already begun to escape him.

“It´s alright, my love. Let go for me, please. I´m so close again. Want to feel you so bad, please” you whimpered in his ear. With another display of his incredible strength he flipped you onto your back without slipping from you and ground his dick even deeper into you. You screamed out a Yes when you felt how much deeper he suddenly reached inside of you. Violently clutching your shaking legs around his waist you tried to move your hips with his. There was no keeping up. Attaching his lips to your nipple he started pistoling his hips into you with hard strokes. Babbling into your neck and whining long and high pitched, he made sure you had nothing more to do than to take his loving and clinging to him. Your vision blurred again, your body seeming to tighten in on itself like a bow, ready to let go. “I´m there, I´m there, fuck! John! Please…please come, please” you whined pathetically and with throaty whines. His voice was strained and tight when he rasped into your ear. “Hold on, just a bit more, baby. My perfect princess, hhgnn, gripping me so tight. Fuck, fuck! Darling, I´m gonna…gonna…fuck, baby, where? Where do you want me, tell me now. Now!”

Your arms clung to his neck when you whispered “Inside” into his ear and he lost it. Bellowing out, he groaned when his dick twitched inside you, pushing his hot seed deep, deep into you. More wetness seeped out of you when your pussy fluttered around him, triggering you into your second orgasm. Still groaning out his bliss his teeth caught the underside of your jaw, panting heavily against it. All you could do was trying not to pass out. You were shaking and whimpering incoherently, your muscles almost giving out. You almost didn´t hear him over the dull rush in your ears when he praised your mere existence. “-fuckin´perfect….-love you, love you, love you…-“ It felt like half an hour until you were able to catch a normal thought again. He was laying on top of you, his weight such a comforting mass, all you could do was lick his sweat stained skin and gently rake your fingers over his back. You could feel his heart hammering strong and fast and an incredible feeling of gratitude washed over you.

“I love you” you drawled with a heavy tongue. “I love you so much.” He buried his head deeper into your neck, mumbling. “I don’t think I was ever more grateful to have met someone.” His voice was surprisingly strong. “You are my everything” he said with conviction.

After another several minutes of just enjoying each other´s loving caresses and whispered declarations of devotion he suddenly pushed himself up on his arms, gazing down at you. His eyes were shining, the sweetest smile on his lips. “Wait here” he said and scrambled off the bed. Finally having control over your muscles again you lifted your torso and stared at the retreating buns of steel, smirking to yourself. He rummaged through his clothes on the floor for a second then came back to your side of the bed. You raked your eyes all over his body appreciatively and he squinted at you good naturedly. “Can´t blame me” you shrugged and giggled while sitting up. He grinned and sat down next to you with his hands in his lap. He suddenly seemed at a loss for words.

“I…I asked Gaz to get this for you the day after I woke up” he said. You looked at him curiously. He looked at you and turned his upper body to you. “I still can hardly believe that you would stay by my side even though I caused you so much worry and pain. Without knowing when or if I would come back to you.___, I don´t think…I don´t think I will be able to function the way I did before without you in my life.” He hung his head at that and you gently raked your hands through his hair. “I´m not leaving,” you choked out. “I´m not leaving you, John. Cause me as much pain as possible and nothing would compare to the pain of not being with you.” He shook his head in disbelieve, still hung low and his shoulders started to shake. Before you could gather him into your arms however he stood abruptly and in one fluid motion sank down on his knee in front of the bed.

You stopped breathing the way he was looking up at you with tears in his eyes and an intensity that made you shiver. He took your hands in his and with a stutter of your heart you felt something slightly cold and small drop into your palm. He looked up at you opening your palms with his, the question stamped onto his face. You looked down and a sob wrecked your whole body when you saw the simple silver ring laying in the centre of your hand. You closed your eyes shut leaning slightly forward, hiccupping. He reached out and softly pressed his lips to your forehead. You wiped at your eyes and looked at the ring again. He took it from your palm and took a deep breath. Holding it out to you he simply said “Please?” and smiled a bit hesitantly. You reached out your hand, fingers spread and as he put the ring on your finger, you were both almost unable to seal your promise to each other with a kiss. Your respective grins and relieved laughs making it almost impossible to connect your lips.

1 1/2 years later

“SOAP! Get back here, you dick! Enough with the damn flag!” Cackling you observed as Gaz sprinted after Soap who was laughing manically and waving a Scottish flag. While you, Kate and her wife tried very hard stifle your laughter, John and Ghost just stood beside the grill shaking their heads disbelievingly. “I´m cutting him off the Whisky” John sighed as you approached him with another beer. “You do that, honey” you said smiling and kissed his cheek lovingly. “Here you go, Simon” you said and handed the other bottle to the masked man. You still hadn’t seen his face and yet, he always managed to drink his own fair share of beer whenever you had one of your back garden get togethers. It wasn´t often that all of you could make it, especially Laswell and her wife. But on some rare occasions like today, the back garden of your small, ancient Notting hill house was filled with lights, grilling meat and veggies as well as some more or less drunk friends.

“So Cap, howww´s retiiirement treatin´ ya?” slurred Johnny breezily from underneath Gaz´s headlock, still grinning. John rolled his eyes and watched as Gaz sat Johhny down on one of the benches. “I´m not retired you absolute muppet. I still have to haul arse after you whenever shit hits the fan.” You giggled and put your arm around his waist. “Which happens significantly less than I thought” you said in a thankful voice. Still, the only person you toasted your beer to was Ghost. You knew the only reason why John didn’t have to be shipped out as much was probably him. He held up his bottle and with a slight tilt to the side, nodded his head. John´s new position had significantly more bureaucracy involved but he spent more time at home, was still coordinating everything his team did and only had to step in when “shit hit the fan.” In the last year, you only had to say good bye to him twice. Once for only three days and once for about a month. Both times he came back to you unscathed. “Now, each one of you muppets grab a plate and make sure to thank my wife for putting up with your arses in her free time.”

Sitting on John´s lap around the fireplace you tried observing how far Soap would go with his flirting with Ghost. Suddenly you felt John lightly pinch your waist. You looked down at him, smiling with all the love you had for your husband. He stroked his knuckle carefully over your cheek and sighed contently. “Do you think it´s normal?” you whispered to him. He raised an eyebrow. “What´s normal, my beloved?”

“To be this happy?”

____________________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading. Please check out the authors note. I would be really happy if you could interact with this post. Reblogs, comments and likes always make my day <3 :)

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @lolis-pikt @gaymistakeboi @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @commandersmithswife

@fullldash @yooforia @shuttlelauncher81 @cuckoo-on-a-string @makastaco @friendlyserial420 @feedthefandoms995 @moonlighting87 @carlyi @thriving-n-jiving

265 notes · View notes

ganondoodle · 8 months

Text

(this is not about anyone in particular but i have encountered this argument alot too so i wanna say sth about it)

the thing that people like to use as an excuse to why totks story was so lackluster that they think of the gameplay first

but how is that an excuse for bad story and inconsistency with the game its supposedly a sequel too? does good gameplay suddendly mean that the story gotta be bad? they made it work just fine with botw, sure its got its problems and there are things that could have been better like in any game, but they made it work with the themes, it felt harmonical with the rest of it

yeah the story feels like an afterthought in totk, bc it probably was, but it didnt have to be, and not to toot my own horn here but thats what im trying to do with the rewrite, yes im including some wishes i have that would never be canon but this is ultimately wasted work im doing anyway, im restructuring the whole game bc i want it to be in tune with itself, i took the route of most changes bc its my little brainfart were i can make it into something i really want while using the real game as a basis, all that work is in vain anyway so why not go all out, but i have several ideas, some even written out, on how you could have made it better, sometimes with minimal changes even and even then, they dont matter, the game is done and higely successful, im just a random dude on the internet thats part of the 0.01% of fans that dont like it, im just insane enough (or autistic enough lol) to basically do game design and writing for an entire game IP i dont own and never will for a game thats already finished and wont change regardless of how much work i do or how much i yell about it

if you think its 'unfair' to the canon game bc some things are not doable (tho honestly given what they have already been able to do nintedny would absolutely be able to do everything im writing) or bc im changing so much then ok? if you think they had their reasons and thats ok with you then ok?

im not tho, and no i dont think they had a good reason nor good excuse to do it like this, thats my opinion anyway, and my opinion doesnt matter in the grant scheme of things

like you dont have to like anything i do with it, its not a demand of the devs, the games done already anyway and nothign will change that, im literally just making it into the sequel i would have loved, i would have wanted, i would think is better but thats just me, all of the work im doing for this project is an outlet for my frustration with the game that i cant let go bc i love the franchise, and most importantly botw, so much that i cant let it go

so if you dont like what im doing, thats fine, but move on then pls bc im not demanding anyone to like it and if you choose to engage with it despite not liking it thats not my fault now is it

and if you do like it i want to thank you for your support!! it means alot that maybe, even if its technically wasted work and time, its really not fully useless, if it can bring even one other person a little joy, thats a good engouh reason for me to keep posting it :3

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #totk #ganondoodles rants #also im makign the gameplay loop not all that different tbh #im changing alot but the real game is still the basis #also i find the argmuent funny that no one wants to have a zelda companion gltiching into a wall #when we have 5 silent ghost things gltiching all over the place while killing the frame rate but thats fine i guess lol #not being agressive either mind you #but again .. what harm am i doing #i doubt even a nintendos window cleaner has ever seen a single one of my posts nor cares about them

56 notes · View notes

chaoticevilspacewitch · 3 months

Text

Praise for 'We May Fall'

I knew that when I decided to write We May Fall, a Pollination fic- much less an explicit one- that it was going to be a tough sell to RWBY fans who like story, character development, and actual sapphic romance and relationships. Because let's face it, our fandom is littered with "Team RWBY fucks everyone"- usually very much catered to the cishet male gaze. But, the story in my head is very insistent on being told, so I decided to give it a try.

Therefore, the comments it's getting absolutely thrill me!

"I almost passed on this story but I'm extremely glad I didn't. This has been great, and I'm here for the long haul now."

"Really love this fic and I love that even if Weiss is the primary protag through this story I love that the other girls in RWBY aren't ignored. I especially love the delicate handling of trans issues with sex like body dysphoria."

"Also i love how you write smut(said it before and i'll say it again). It's still incredibly hot whilst being awkward and goofy. Probably the best smut writer i've seen."

"I absolutely love this story! I did go in just sort of looking for a smut story to pass the time but it’s just so well written. Your description of people’s feelings for one another is just great."

So yeah, that's me tooting my own horn a bit, because I'm still obsessed with this crazy brain baby of mine and want more people to enjoy it (also, I'm vain and my kudos counter makes my brain go vroom!)

#rwby #rwby fanfic #anime #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #ao3 #pollination

23 notes · View notes

bellaxgiornata · 2 months

Note

hey there! if you’re looking for some more fun ask questions, maybe 11, 32, and 42? (if you can’t tell, i really adore your writing and trust your judgement so am super interested in which of your own fics you recommend the most as well as any other writers or fics you like) thank you!

I am still open to answering this and I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to respond! I like to try to be thorough in my responses. And thank you so much 😭❤️ That means so much to hear about my writing, it's something I'm very passionate about. Hearing that it's appreciated means a lot! ❤️

As for fics of my own to recommend, I think most of y'all already know about Falling for the Devil when it comes to Matty. And for those who enjoy that series, you'd probably also enjoy The Devil at Your Window. For those who enjoy sexual tension and smut for Matt, I'll toot my horn about Break the Tension. It's not my usual Matt x Reader fic but I think it's been fun to write a Matt who's kind of a desperate asshole (for reasons which will eventually make sense).

For Mikey I'd recommend Safe Haven because it's a series full of plot and surprises. Plus who doesn't want to share a bedroom window with Mikey??

As for Frank I'd recommend either of my series': Neighbors or You're Safe With Me. Both are fun and have/will have suspense!

As for the questions you asked, I'll answer them below the cut because this is going to be a long post 😅

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

I notoriously haven't read much in the past year because I have limited free time and cannot seem to stop writing long enough to focus on reading (something I am sure will change once I have a newborn in a few months and am awake at all hours of the night...). But I love these stories and even though I am not caught up on necessarily all of them, I know many things that are planned for them/have happened and I have read many screenshots as these fics have been written!

And Then I Met You by @souliebird

Cooking Up Love by @loveroftoomanyfandoms

Cadence by @she-likesorchids AKA @theradioactivespidergwen

(Hopefully all the links are correct because I am trying to write this on my phone 😅)

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers

There are SO many wonderful writers here on tumblr so picking just 3 is honestly impossible. I literally can't so I'll just list a handful of writers I've actually been able to read some works from and have enjoyed here on tumblr (and that I can think of off the top of my head) who write for Matt, Michael, and/or Frank (and possibly even vamp Henry):

@she-likesorchids

@souliebird

@loveroftoomanyfandoms

@mattmurdocksscars

@sunflowersandsapphires

@shiorimakibawrites

@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

@yarrystyleeza

@itwasthereaminuteago

@pastafossa

@peterman-spideyparker

(There's absolutely more and I apologize for my brain blanking, plus the list of writers on my TBR list is huge 😅)

@farfromstrange

@courtforshort15

42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

An Ode to a Coat by @pastafossa

YES EVERYONE GO READ IT. As long as you're over 18 of course because it's smutty goodness.

#bella answers #ask game #fics i recommend #some great fic writers i enjoy here on tumblr #im absolutely forgetting a few unfortunately

31 notes · View notes

radishhqueen · 21 days

Text

today's the one year anniversary of the last chapter of vigilantism for fun and profit, aka the fic that gave me permanent foot clan brain damage. this is entirely self-inflicted!

absolutely tooting my own horn here but it is a very good fic if you're looking for something that expands on Foot Recruit's existing characterization without having all of her dialogue be in all caps :)

#rottmnt #rise casey jones #fuck it ill main tag #vfp #radish #mtfm #radish fic #a little mad i havent taken nice photos of my vfp hardcover yet!! and i dont have it with me today!!!!#setting myself up for failure

18 notes · View notes

magnoliabutters · 9 months

Text

• THE SPIDER QUEEN •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: munson and henderson have a good o’talk...

warning: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; enemies to lovers trope, canon divergence, fluffy-wuff, season 4 spoliers, switching povs, moody boy kas, grief, y/n count: 1, moody boy dusty buns, violence, death/killing, character death, etc.

word count: 11.6k

reblogs & thoughtsy-watsies are appreciated!

• stories of eddie munson • season two • previous part •

note: potential need for tissues, not to toot my own horn or anything hehe, also highly highly encourage noting the dates & time to stay on track (i be bouncing)

grazi grazi grazi to my sweet ladies, ziggy (@trashmouth-richie, one of my fav authors) & miss nack (@nackrosor, loml) for spending the time to beta read & share your incredible thoughts and wisdom! also, doubly credit to nacky-nack because some of these words came straight from her extravagant brain & i love her so much.

i have never been so proud of the stories i’ve been creating and that’s cause of these two extraordinary writers. thank you, thank you for helping me grow! now, on to my longest post yet…

April 7th, 1986. 10:46pm.

Kas never thought he would respect a man in an open white blazer with a bright blue undershirt and yet, here he is - ready to follow him into battle if necessary. He is invested in this “Miami Vice” show. God, even the name sounds stupid, but he finds himself thankful that you had found a channel dedicated to it. A blissful escape from this shitty old thing called life.

There he sits with feet kicked up on the coffee table. A fresh stove-top cooked popcorn on his lap. The beautiful girl he loves sleeping soundly against his shoulder. He could die right here and be absolutely fulfilled. A twisted little smile sprawls on his lips as you curl your arm across his waist. The way your soft hair rests upon his shoulder and down to his bicep makes his heart explode and rebuild in a million puzzle-like pieces.

Who needs a working heart anyway?

Kas’ eyes are glued to the TV screen, desperately trying to erase the presence of the curly haired betrayal of a boy in his peripherals. He may have had trouble accepting the idea of Dustin at first, but now he’s just a nuisance at the bottom right of his eyeline. He will happily admit that he likes it better when the boy’s unconscious.

Although, he refuses to share how the curls of Dustin’s hair bring him back to each and every time Eddie ruffled them up with the palm of his hand. He is reminded of the happiness he felt in seeing the boy every day in school. The nostalgia floods his brain anytime Dustin’s yawning catches his attention.

Relief, another feeling that explodes within his chest. Relief in knowing that Hellfire would have yet another fearless leader once Eddie finally graduated - class of ‘86.

The excitement, unbridled and innocent excitement that followed their party’s adventures flying off the table and becoming a tangible reality. Right before everything got way too real...

The cracks of Crockett’s pistol blasts through the air. A shoot out. Miami’s finest detectives dive behind a brick wall as the fugitive sprays ricocheting bullets.

Kas jumps, startled by the noise, before rushing to find the remote. In his attempts, everything goes beautifully wrong. “Fuck, shit!” The popcorn flies and spills all over your beautiful sleeping body. An accidental kick of his feet and the unfinished beer bottles fall, spilling all over the table and onto the orange tinged carpet below.

In reaching for the remote, he about falls onto his stomach, spread across the floor, before finally hitting mute. With a deep exhale pumped full of exhaustion, he turns over onto his back, spreading his arms out across the carpet. He reluctantly raises his eyes to yours, only to catch you baring holes into his face. A tight lipped smile curls upon his lips as he mouths, “sorry” with nervous bouncing brows.

Another thing he didn’t expect was that the loud noise blaring from the TV would cause Dustin to begin rolling around with fluttering eyelids. The boy mumbles behind him, causing Kas’ eyes to open to extreme widths. He straightens his spine and turns before crawling his way back towards you. His torso flush against the hardened bottom frame of the couch. He bumps your right leg with his elbow, desperate to get your attention.

Thoughts begin to spiral in his mind, his lip quivers - terrified of what may happen once Dustin utters a word. Mortified by the thought of what he will say. It intensifies the frequency of his bumps on your leg.

Kas may not remember the whole story, but he can physically feel how his heart reaches for the boy. He recognizes that Dustin is the closest Eddie ever got to being a big brother. He feels the remnants of pride that regularly overcame him whenever he looked down on the boy. The thought of what he had and who he could become.

Eddie only knew him for less than the school year, but Dustin was so much more than some random freshie who barely learned the true art of Dungeons and Dragons. No, this boy was a pro - just like he was at that age. The only difference being that Dustin had friends, a party to play with before high school.

Henderson was his heir, the fucking prodigy. And fuck, does it hurt when the prodigy betrays the teacher!

Kas watches as your body perks up once realizing Dustin was slowly returning to the land of the living. You quickly stand and crash land upon your knees beside him. He really wished you hadn’t. He selfishly wanted you by his side, to help him not lose his marbles and destroy everything in his sight.

His teeth begin to grind as he watches you care for the boy. Your hands are delicate and soft as you try to help him wake. You care for him despite knowing that he left Eddie behind, the one person you claim to love the most in this world. Some loyalty.

He struggles to pull his eyes away, to keep himself from turning into a red hot ball of rage. Deep breaths have helped keep his mind at a leveled state, but hearing your comforting words crushes him to his core.

Kas returns his gaze upon you two when hearing your voice. “Dustin,” you say as you lightly push a curl behind his ear. He rolls his eyes with a scoff and comically stuffs another fistful of popcorn in his mouth from the thin layer that still rests inside the container. Apparently, you do that move with everyone - brushing hair behind one’s ear. The loving action he cherished so dearly. It feels wrong, undeniably wrong, to see you do that with someone else - let alone with him.

Dustin mumbles something, something that leads you to ask, “what?” so softly. Kas hums a growl at the thought of having to even process the words from his mouth, but he swore to you that he would try. Little did he know it would be this fucking hard.

The fire in his belly is difficult to describe and truly painful. He wishes he could be supportive, to be fully invested in the responsibility you have decided for yourself - to care for this boy. He just doesn't know how to look at you and your serene actions without feeling a sliver of treachery.

This boy is the reason Eddie died and turned into the monster that Kas is: a heinous demon that destroys everything in his wake while wearing the face of an angel.

Why couldn't he just have a few more minutes of paradise with you? To hold you in his arms, to feel you sink deeper into his chest. The sleep he craved beside your supple body was divine. All he wanted to do was grab your hand and rush you back up to that bed. To jump onto it and float the waves with you by his side. To forget there ever was an Eddie, a y/n, a Kas, a darlin’. To forget it all and start again. A new life filled with your sweet smile and endless laughter.

Alas, no. You were reminded of who Kas truly is before any extraordinary, amnesic life could begin. All because of him. Dustin Henderson did this, and he needs to pay.

Abruptly, Dustin staggers with fearful eyes as he pulls from you. Kas could tell that you were startled by the way your chin went several inches back into your throat. He knows that expression of yours very well. He revisits the sight on the backs of his eyelids any time he tries to fall asleep. How much horror he must have caused you while he was figuring it all out. The very same horror he forces you to relive each day. He will regret it all his life.

As an instinctual response to your worry, Kas stands with tightening fists, ready to pummel anything and anyone who troubles you. Your eyes fall upon him in such a way that he immediately disarms. Your gentle hand reaches towards him with a slightly cocked head. “It’s okay, Kas,” you say in a whisper. He sucks his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he shifts his eyes between you and the boy. He lets out a sharp breath from his nostrils before crashing back onto the couch carelessly.

Dustin looks his way with that same annoying terror on his face. It screams, “I’m about to pee my pants.” He had no reason to worry, as long as he listened to you. However, the terror persisting any time they make eye contact is becoming more and more difficult for Kas to bear. He’s positive Dustin never looked at Eddie this way. He’d be lying if he didn’t acknowledge the sadness that envelopes his chest at the thought.

"W-What is this?" Dustin asks while turning back to face you. His movements are hesitant and slow. Kas scoffs, kicking his feet back onto the table as he lazily reaches for a fallen kernel resting on a nearby cushion. He is almost offended that the boy couldn’t sustain the gaze in spite of his tangible fear.

"You're safe," you comfort, placing a hand on his shoulder but he pulls away harshly, making Kas sit straight up once again. It’s never too late to learn manners.

"No," he states. "What the hell happened?" You turn back to look at Kas, almost for support, but he gives you nothing. Why would he? You messed the bed, make it yourself.

"Maybe I should introduce you two?" you suggest, nodding back to Kas. Dustin's lip pulls up in a mixture of confusion and disgust. It’s clear he isn’t very fond of you. Kas loves the idea of being an outcast alongside you.

Dustin peers back at him with caution, yet eager and watering eyes before clearing his throat and returning to you. That look - jesus fuck, Kas hated that look. An inspirited gaze with raising brows before crashing down into a furrow and welling eyes. It has been some time since you have looked at him with such hope. The ogling stare that searches for something, or more accurately someone behind his muddy eyes. It is usually followed by a depressing combination of shock and hurt once the individual realizes what they were searching for no longer exists.

Dustin searches for Eddie, just like you used to. Apologies to the traitor. Eddie no longer exists.

"This is Kas," you introduce with softness to your voice. Your intonation comes off as though you were entertaining the name. Kas tries his best to remind himself that you had understood. You know that Eddie was gone, but the undeniable anger filling him is indisputable. It leads to the clenching of his teeth, the straightening of his back, and the flaring of his nostrils.

Dustin attempts to say the name, stuttering and stumbling like a child at the unfamiliar word. He continues, desperately trying to understand. “Kas, like - like Kas, the Bloody Handed? Kas, the Destroyer? Kas, Vecna’s most trusted lieutenant?”

Kas could see you wince at the words. You are desperate to keep the conversation calm and avoid all his triggers. But the boy clearly has his own annoying way of processing the information, blurting the sound of his immediate enemy as a result.

He growls as his jaw slightly shakes with how hard his teeth grind against each other. “How about Kas, the man whose aboutta break your nose if you keep yapping?” he spits out. Dustin quickly turns his way at the sound. He shudders in his seat, preparing for another altercation.

In an attempt to deescalate the situation, you slowly answer Dustin’s inquiries. “I’m not sure about all that,” you start, speaking directly to the boy. “But Kas, he’s - he’s different.” He looks at you with one raising brow and forward leaning chin, egging you on to continue.

“He may look like Eddie, talk like him, walk like him, even hug like him - if you’re lucky,” you quickly correct. “But he’s not Eddie.” You pause, dropping your eyes to the hands intertwined upon your lap. “I really need you to understand this, Dustin. Kas is not Eddie. They are two different people.”

As you spoke, Kas slowly moved his attention onto your chapped, pouty lips. Your inflection changed as your words continued. His ears are perked as he struggles to understand how you were feeling. How to help. Your solemn expression sets off a multitude of alarm systems in his mind.

His first thought is to scoop you off your feet, carefully supporting your neck and the back of your knees with his arms. He wishes to take you away from this place, to any reminder of the past and what you have lost.

His second thought, however, fuels the anger and resentment within him. The thought that your sadness, that your pain, is caused by Dustin and his aggravating need to know the truth. Finally, you take a breath as those tears you’ve been holding finally dive off your lashes.

“Eddie is dead…”

“… So please. If we can move on from this - if you can accept that Eddie is g-gone,” your voice hitches, leading you to take a slow breath before continuing. “Then we won’t have to worry about what happened earlier.”

Kas’ head tilts curiously as he observes your behavior. The words are falling easier and easier for your pretty lips, but the heartbreak resonating throughout your body is crystal clear and constant.

He wishes he could revel in the excitement, to celebrate the happiness that followed your understanding that Eddie is gone. The acceptance that has allowed Kas to live without being under his shadow. But how could he ever be happy when you were so sad?

Upon hearing your words, he is reminded of the detrimental actions that ripped the perfect morning with you from his hands. The precious morning and slumber that you both deserved. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through your freshly washed hair and watch as you fell asleep in his arms.

Kas fiercely avoids acknowledging the thought that he, too, is responsible for taking that away from you. That maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t all Dustin’s fault.

April 7th, 1986. 8:12am.

Kas had an uneasy feeling as he took slow and hesitant steps down the stairs. Who could possibly be here? The knock seemed hurried, yet forceful. His first guess would be the cops, that maybe Rick got out of jail again and they’ve come to bring him back. Or what if it was a neighbor? One that saw some movement in the desolate house and called 9-1-1? Either way, a conversation between the police and Kas, Hawkin’s latest serial killer, is not going to end well.

He considers calling you down. A fresh, pretty face that can woo the police away. One that can lie and pretend that she has every right to be in Reefer Rick’s abandoned lake house.

No, he could never do that to you. He wouldn’t dare ruin the incredible image in his head of you resting, naked beneath the warm sheets waiting for his return. He couldn’t wait to drop these sweatpants and curl up next to you.

Nah, man. There’s no way he’s dragging you out of that bed. Plus, he knew, without a doubt, that you would be too busy dry heaving at the thought of lying to the cops to even try. A smile rips across his face. Shit, how he loves you with every fiber of his being.

As he finally hits that last step, Kas dramatically slumps his entire body upon realizing Reefer Dicky Dick Rick doesn’t have a god damned peephole. He’s convinced that peering through the windows like an idiot would be way worse than just opening the door.

With a sharp inhale and roll of his eyes, Kas flings the door open. The wind wafts in, flying his curls back with the intensity of his speed. All to begrudgingly land his eyes on …

“Eddie?”

Kas’ entire body runs cold as his breath is stalled in his chest. The eyes, the hazel innocent eyes before him. Irises bight and clear as day when flush against the pink of his tearing eye. A reddish plump to his nose and cheeks. The trembling lip that slowly whispers a second “Eddie” that Kas is too astonished to notice.

Dustin Henderson. The two comrades, friends of war, partners, brothers were left stunned at the sight of each other.

Several minutes pass and the boy is the first to break the silence. “Ed-,” he starts, but Kas is quick to stop him in his tracks.

“Don’t call me that,” Kas spits out with a deadpan expression. He could feel his entire body shutting down, one muscle at a time. His breath is completely ripped from his lungs as he desperately seeks dissociation, any method of escape from who he must face.

Pain strikes Dustin’s whole, causing the slightest twinge of his brow. He takes a step back with fluttering eyelids as he struggles to comprehend the situation.

Kas, however, is too busy wishing he could disappear to notice. Wishing that he could turn back time, tell you to hide so that you both could giggle under the fresh sheets until the knocking dissipated.

Lost in his thoughts, Kas didn’t see the boy’s extending hand before it was gently placed against his forearm. “Don’t!” he yells, raising his tainted arm as he stumbles back into the living room.

Dustin follows him inside with worried floating hands, prepared to catch if needed. He kicks the door closed with helpful intentions. But the slamming door causes Kas to stop dead in his tracks, which in turn causes Dustin to crash against his torso.

Without a second passing, Kas slams his hands against the mop head’s shoulders. He digs the weak boy into the wall beside the door. Dustin yelps in pain as his hips thrash forcefully back onto a side table. A sharp sound snaps through the air as a glass bowl shatters and keys scatter across the carpet.

“Don’t touch me,” Kas demands sternly. “And don’t call me that,” he adds with a heavy exhale, as though the words have become routine. “I - I won’t,” Dustin blurts out with a fast sucking breath.

Kas slowly nods with fluttering lashes as he stumbles back. Tears well in his eyes as he struggles to discern reality and memory. Dustin Henderson, Dustin. Dustin. The name floods his body with a volatile mixture of Eddie's and his own emotions.

Is he ecstatic? Is he worried for his friend? Why was he crying? Why did he push him against the wall? That must have really been scary. Maybe he should apologize? Apologize?! For what? Dustin left him to die, rotting away in front of his family’s trailer.

“They wished you death …. They watched as you were torn apart.”

Vecna’s chilling voice plays on repeat in his head. It’s all - It’s too much. His head spins despite the debilitating feeling of his skull being crushed. Tears roll down his cheeks like cinder blocks. He cannot control them, cannot stop them even if he tried.

He has never felt pain such as this. A pain so shocking that all bodily systems are stalled. His chest begins to heave just as his sight becomes blurry. Any memories tied to you and your anxiety attacks have rapidly been erased. He has nothing, nothing to help him. No one to support him in this unbearable situation. His heart pulses like the clacking of a horse’s hooves, while also freezing every five beats.

Kas instinctually bends over, falling into a kneel. His chest struggles to rise and fall with each breath taken. His brain is overloaded, cutting all ties with consciousness.

Dustin rushes to his side with a light and comforting touch upon his best friend’s back. He is very careful not to touch the pink scars ripping across his waist and ribs when catching him. “Eddie,” he calls out softly.

“Eddie…”

“…Eddie”

“Eddie?”

“EDDIE!”

“Oh god! Oh god, Eddie,” Dustin cries as he lands his knees harshly against the cold floor. He pulls his idol’s body onto his lap. Tears stream down his face, dropping onto Eddie’s cheeks below.

Eddie’s entire body was on fire. So much pain but all he cared about was that he finally proved to himself that he was no coward. By the look of Dustin’s blubbering crying face and the fact that he couldn’t feel his toes, he knew that this was it. Time to go out like a rockstar.

“Bad huh?” Eddie coughs up. He could taste the familiar metal on his tongue. It wasn’t the first time blood was in his mouth.

“No, no,” Dustin starts. “You’re going to be fine. Just gotta get you to the hospital, okay?” His voice keeps hitching. The boy brushes hair from his cheek with a cold breath on his face.

Eddie nods his head in a desperate attempt to make his little brother feel better, but the blood keeps coming up. He gags on it before muttering, “I think …” The pain shoots up his body in pulsating electrical bursts. “Common,” he utters, trying to hype himself up. He had only a few more words to say before he was done, before he could rest.

“I think I just … I think I just need a second, okay?” He whispers. He struggles to keep his eyes open, slowly becoming more tired as the minutes pass.

He gets flashes of your smile burning bright. Your laugh, how you cock back your head with each giggle. Your fingers intertwined with his, always such warm hands. A loving smile spreads across his devilish cheeks. “Okay,” Dustin whimpers out in between sobs.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?” Eddie blurts out with a bit of a chuckle. “No, no, no, no,” Dustin weakly smiles, letting out a bundle of spit with a stifled cry. “You didn’t run.” A cough rips from his throat again. The blood drains from the side of his mouth.

Happiness fills his aching chest as the thought of Dustin as President of Hellfire plays in his head once again. A thought he fantasizes about often. His eyes close as he sees the light behind the boy’s curly head. “You’re going to have to take care of those sheep for me, okay?”

Dustin lets out a soft whale as he struggles to speak. “No, you’re going to do that yourself,” he whispers stubbornly. Eddie’s brows furrow at the words. He uses all of his might to crash his palm against Dustin’s forearm.

“Nah, man,” Eddie grumbles. He hated when the boy second guessed himself. Dustin never saw his potential, never felt the confidence he could easily have. Hey, that was the same shit you would say about Eddie all the time. Funny, full circle.

“Say, ‘I’m gonna look after them,” he demands. “Say it.” He wanted the words to come out harsh and strict, bringing the good old dungeon master voice back out for one last ride. He didn’t expect the coughing fit that would erupt from his attempt.

“I’m… I’m gonna look after…” Dustin starts as the words fall into a jumble of sobs. “Good,” Eddie answers with another harsh cough.

A smile spreads across his face, the smirk that is clearly copyrighted by the Munson family. “Good, cause I’m actually gonna graduate,” Eddie starts. His smile grows deeper and deeper as he remembers those pretty little eyes of yours. “And I’m gonna marry my Lolly. I think it’s my year, Henderson.” His heart warms - he likes to think it’s because of his incredible future with you, instead of the blood pooling in his lungs. “I think it’s finally my year…”

“...I love you man.”

“I love you too.”

“… Eddie”

“Eddie …”

“Eddie!”

Kas moves with a body strictly set on autopilot. His mind is screaming, screaming his name. His heart races, beating thickly in his ears. He could still feel Dustin’s tears falling onto his cheeks. He feels the boy leaving. How his pillow, his knees, quickly fall from beneath him. Dustin’s weeping voice as he is pulled away and Eddie is left behind in the Upside Down.

Before he could stop himself, Kas grabs Dustin’s hands off of his body. He wraps his calloused fingers around his wrists, slamming them harshly against the wall. “What the hell are you doing here?!” He screams into the adversary’s pathetically whimpering face.

“I-It’s me,” Dustin stutters out, but each word that leaves his lips peaks his anger. Kas yells out a grunt as he digs his fist thick into his collar. He lifts the small boy up and throws him against the floor. Henderson went flying across the living room, sliding upon the carpet.

Everything became red. A smashing of his knuckles across Dustin’s cheekbones. It hurt, but not as much as when his supposed friend left him behind. This makes Kas feel a whole lot better.

April 7th, 1986. 11:12pm.

Looking back, Kas definitely needed that 14-hour cool down period. He scans over your crushed frame, but your eyes are fixed upon Dustin’s face. His nostrils flare as fluttering lashes drop a tear. He roughly brushes it away with a single finger against his red cheeks.

With a sniffle, Dustin whispers, “O-Okay, hi Kas. I’m Dustin.” His hand shakes awkwardly as he tries to stand. Your arms reach for him, careful not to let him fall. Despite your unfortunate patient, Kas has always adored your caring soul. The dutiful World War Two nurse tending to his eternal wounds. He loves you, not only due to your very beautiful body, but everything within its gorgeous shell - not that you’d ever believe him.

Dustin looks down at his wavering hands and ripped shirt. His fingertips press against his cheeks. He winces in anticipation of a pain that never comes. “How did I,” he stutters, a gulp thick in his throat. “W-what is this?” Kas finally stands - it was his time to shine. He peers down at Dustin through his cheeks with a lifted chin. The boy stumbles back at his movement, afraid of what may come next.

Just how Kas likes it: seeing his prey shaking with barely contained fear before him. At least they know the truth - that he’s a monster in sheep’s clothing.

“I healed you,” Kas starts with a scoff. “Me, I did that,” he points to Dustin’s weak body. His smirk and bouncing brow shoots your way, making sure you acknowledge his selfless act. That annoyed, deadpanned face of yours returned, it’s one of his favorites.

Dustin looks to you for clarification, some sort of understanding of what the hell happened to his fallen friend. Kas hated it, hated that he looked at you instead of him. Like every word falling from his mouth needed to be fact checked by you.

“Hey, Henderson,” Kas calls out, a whistle to follow. “Eyes over here. Daddy’s telling a story.”

Kas stalls when he sees both your eyes pop out of their sockets. Dustin’s nostrils are flared as he takes a slow inhale. You quickly drop your gaze to your feet, while stifling a cry. What the hell? Why did the world come to a grinding halt?

“Vecna saved me,” he continues hesitantly. The words slowly drop from his mouth, each elongated word. “You know, after you left me to rot.”

The boy’s neck extends as shock fills him to his very core. Fire burns true in his little hazel eyes. Something Kas, nor Eddie, has seen outside of the D&D table.

Oh hello Nog, the Artificer - it’s been a while.

“Who left you?” Dustin challenges with a finger addressed to the man before him. It makes Kas laugh, enjoying the fire burning within him just like the good arsonist that he is. “‘Cause it sure as shit wasn’t me.”

He steps forward in a way that, involuntarily, spreads shivers down Kas’ spine. A shiver not formed due to fear, shock, nor worry. A shiver that inadvertently fills his body with admiration and respect. “Steve had to pull me away from you,” he says sternly, dangerously entering the other's space.

Kas’ left brow raises as a smile sprawls across his face. A slow chuckle erupts from within that could scare away Vecna himself. He is callous and cold. His eyes reddening as each word is spoken. “You’re a fucking liar, Henderson,” a cold stern tone to his voice. Kas takes a step towards Dustin, egging him on. “You don’t want to know what I do to liars.”

Dustin scoffs, suddenly taking the interaction lightly. “Why don’t you start off by telling me exactly who said that I left you?” he asks with rigid eyes. Kas scoffs too, rolling his own, as his lip pulls up on his left side. “Oh,” the boy snickers, making Kas’ entire care-free persona develop into fuel lit fire. “Let me guess, Vecna told you that? Just like how he told you he saved you?”

“Watch your fucking tongue,” Kas spits through gritted teeth. He could barely see your hands or hear your voice as you attempt to calm the situation. All he could see was red. The resilient, fascinatingly familiar color flushing across his sight. He just needed one good reason to wreck that pretty little face of his.

“I watched you die and I was there until the very end,” Dustin yells, completely matching his opponent’s energy. “I would have never left you behind.”

“But you did!” Kas screams into his face. His shoulders raise as he puffs his chest, entirely prepared to destroy the small being. But, fortunately for the boy, you are a sneaky one. A slow palm to his chest, resting with just the right amount of pressure on his sternum. He could feel another hand pressing into his lower back. And somehow he could breathe again. The red slowly dissipating from his mind. All his senses return with lightning speed. It all hit a bit too hard as he struggles to process the next words from his mouth.

“No, I fucking didn’t!” Dustin spit outs with disdain. Your hand still glued to Kas’ hot skin, the only thing keeping the other alive. “Steve ripped me from you, I hated him for weeks…” He loses track of his words as though the memories shot through his precious thinking cap.

“No, no,” Kas mumbles but the flashes ring true. Dustin cried onto his dying body. He screamed, pleading for Eddie as he was dragged away by Harrington. He didn’t want to go, but Steve was following through on his promise - to protect Henderson. They loved Eddie. His friends would never have left him behind.

“No!” Kas shouts, pushing the boy back, but he persists, taking a step forward to show his older brother that he meant every single world.

“It took me so long to see that he was saving my life,” Dustin utters before powerfully pushing two hands against his chest. “I was ready to die with you in front of that trailer!”

Kas bounces back, rocking on his heels with minimal physical damage but holy shit did that fuck over his brain and everything he’s come to know as true so far.

“I should have!” the boy shrieks. Tears stream down his cheeks in a way that breaks Kas’ unbeating heart, in a way he’ll never admit - maybe not even to you. Kas coughs, clearing his throat before plopping back onto the couch. The room is silent until Tobbs calls out to his fellow detective.

Kas clings onto the TV as a tool for his dissociation. A small voice in his head begins to beg for forgiveness. Regret encapsulates his chest cavity as he acknowledges the pain he caused to not only his prodigy, but to you. The betrayal was his own.

He should have remembered, should have corrected Vecna, but he had nothing. Not a single clue as to what was happening. He was lost, alone. He knew his memories were not his own, but he didn’t care. Anger is easier than loneliness. It wasn’t until he saw you and the graceful flash of your smile that he second guessed those thoughts.

All he has now is Eddie’s memories from before. He would only need one hand to count how many he’s got, but that’s no excuse. He should’ve remembered. He had an inkling, some part deep deep within him that immediately rejected the idea of Henderson leaving him behind but he didn’t listen.

Why didn’t he listen? How could the idea that everyone would leave him behind be so believable? That he wasn’t worthy of true friendship? What could he have done to deserve that?

Kas squints before applying pressure from his thumb between his brows. He could feel the beginning of a headache scraping against his forehead. Muffled voices wrack through the air as he struggles to recollect what is true and what he was told.

You and Dustin begin talking about Eddie and his last moments. He now finds distraction from his own thoughts in your conversation.

He, barely, tries to not eavesdrop as you nervously ask, “Did - did he have any message or - or, um, did he say something about me?” His ears perk for an answer that never came. He looks up to see Dustin shaking his head, which forces his heart to sink in his chest.

Kas instinctually seeks your gaze, knowing without a doubt that this answer would completely destroy you. He watches as your face pales and your body stills. He struggles to deny every fiber in his being that screams for him to hold you. As much as they pleaded and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t manage to move from his seat. His own body betrays him in the midst of all this new found information.

“Tell us the story.” Your mouth barely moves despite the power of the words that fall from your lips. Kas cannot deny the excitement he feels upon being reminded of your undeniable strength. You were easily the strongest woman he has ever met, even if he did remember all the women in his life. He turns towards Dustin, awaiting the story that even he is curious to hear.

The boy, however, tucks his hands beneath his pits and crosses his arms over his torso. “What’s going to keep him from punching my face in again?” he spits out. Again, he looks right at you as though you were the handler to the rabid dog that Kas was.

“He won’t hurt you,” you say through grinding teeth. It was enough to make Kas smile and tilt his chin back and forth, like a giddy girl. He sits back, completely relaxed, knowing that you have his back.

Dustin takes a breath, lowering his eyes before him, but not before cracking his neck to the side. “Eddie was dealing with Chrissy,” he starts.

You quickly interject, “Yeah, he had a date set with her.” Your eyes fall as you think further. “It - It was a Friday, right?”

The boy nods his head as he tightens his arms upon his chest. “Vecna killed Chrissy right in front of Eddie.”

The veins in your neck tighten as you clench your teeth. Eyelashes flutter back tears. Kas cannot help but want to protect you. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” he asks in a low tone. The act surprises Dustin. His eyes flash between you two as he realizes the connection you have.

You take a deep sigh before walking over to the couch beside him. You crash down, hooking your arm around his bicep. You lean into the meat of his arm as your eyes close. “Keep going, Dustin.”

Kas pulls you in, holding you closer than he thought possible. He would do anything to spare you from this hurt, but he also knows whole heartedly that you needed to hear it - just as he does. “After that, Eddie went into hiding. Cops obviously pinned it on him… and Max, well, she saw him leave the trailer in a hurry-”

Your head raises upon hearing the name. Kas turns to you for guidance as it remains unfamiliar. “Wait, Max was a part of this?” you ask in disbelief.

Dustin stalls before answering. He swallows a huge gulp as he squeezes his hands into a fist. “Yes.” Your brain wracks with ideas, struggling to understand exactly who else was involved in this dangerous ruse. “We went searching for Eddie and it led us back to here,” he mutters as he takes a quick glance around.

“We found out Vecna’s past and how to fight him, and we were ready,” he slows down his words. “We had a plan and we were going to stop him.” His bottom lip begins to quiver. A hand catches his balance upon the back of the recliner. “Something went wrong, and we needed more time.”

His eyes suddenly bare holes into yours. You could see the tears welling within them as he struggles to let out the next few words. “He went back,” he swallows, “We would’ve lost so many people if not for him, but by the time I could get back…” He drops his head, shaking it as those fists crash against the tops of his thighs.

Kas observes every inch of Dustin’s face, of his body language. He understood his words to be true, his feelings to be true. He is distraught. Dustin may have made it out of there alive, but a piece of him still rests on that road right beside Eddie. Dead and hollow. A piece he may never recover.

He rallies the courage from within to finish their interwoven story from his blurred recollection. “I-” he starts. The pronoun explodes a combination of familiarity and disorientation. “I died in his arms.”

Kas could see your head immediately shooting his way. It made a small smile burst from his lips and shortly take it away. “But after you left, I heard someone. I thought it was you,” he turns your way with a weak grin. Tears flow from the ducts of your eyes, a steady current. “I don’t think it was.”

His voice hitches before he clears it and attempts to continue. “I died a fucking hero,” his eyes raise forward as he is flooded by the reminiscent feeling of bravery and pride. “I wasn’t a coward - no, not anymore.”

You bite your lip as your arms wrap around his neck. His own tears begin to fall as you pull him into your chest. “You were always a hero, baby,” you whisper into his red, hot ears. "You saved me before any of this happened."

His sobs destroy the very fabric of your being. A sound that will forever haunt your dreams. You take it in waves, all of his pain without regret. Your face slowly becoming stone cold, tears ceasing to exist as you tighten your hold of him.

Kas clears his throat, slowly pulling away from your soaked shirt. Your hands slowly float to his knees. He looks back at Dustin, his close friend, without anger or resentment. “Vecna brought me back. He told me to kill you,” he mutters while shaking his head. “I came back different.” Another frog is stuck in his throat as he struggles to take in breaths without falling into another sobbing fit. His eyes drop to the hands in his lap. “I wasn’t a killer before, but I am now.”

Dustin looks your way in a panic, desperately wanting to know more. “He didn’t make me, you know? He taught me how and I just kept it up.” Kas calmly nods as he feels the blood drain from his face. “Eleven people,” his voice hitches as he meets the boy’s innocent eyes.

“Tammy Thompson, Ryan Trent, Andy Johnson, Carol Carver, Dave McKinney, Paul Richardson, Justine Hutch, Dick Newman, Kristie Peterson, Olivia Wilson, and Vickie McNulty.”

Kas keeps his head down. Not a single part of him wants to see the terror on either one of your faces. The silence floods the air like a stuffy smoke. It’s almost palpable, almost as though you could feel it weighing down on your defenseless body.

“Vickie.” Dustin slices through the smoke, a wavering tone to his voice. “Vickie from marching band?”

Kas nods his head ever so slightly while struggling to swallow the biggest gulp stuck in his throat.

He didn’t want to raise his eyes, no not at first. He could remember her screams, particularly hers as they sounded like they were perfectly extracted from Jason Voorhees’ machete. The red of her hair mixed beautifully with the crimson that drenched her clothes.

He would be lying if he said he had any remorse in the kill. He just saw someone he knew. A poor girl smudged with dirt and muck as she struggled to get out from under the library’s debris. He scared her, just a little, to get that blood pumping quickly into his mouth.

“Yes,” Kas finally answers. “Vickie from marching band.”

Dustin almost collapses backwards, but swiftly rushes to land onto the chair before him. A completely new pain strikes Kas’ heart as he realizes that Vickie meant something to him. Your hand squeezes at the sides of his thigh as you, too, hesitantly land your head against his shoulder. Comforting him, even though you are shocked by his doings.

“I think I need a break,” Dustin mutters. Kas raises his eyes to see that the boy had turned a shade of green. He runs out the front door and vomits off the side of Rick’s porch. A solid tear runs down Kas’ cheek. What has he done?

While the two are inside, Dustin struggles to keep himself upright. His entire torso is flush against the wooden porch. His eyes almost bulging with each retch.

Robin has been searching for weeks to find Vickie. She’s grown so close to the McNulty family, determined to find her across the Upside Down. She refuses to acknowledge the possibility of her death, the possibility of not being able to save her through all the party's efforts and losses.

How is he going to tell her about this?

But amongst the sadness, he cannot deny the feeling of relief in his belly. Eddie is back. Even if it’s some weird, murderous version of him, he can still see him - talk to him. He doesn’t have to pretend to speak to the mist over Lover’s Lake anymore. He doesn’t have to think of a world that Eddie Munson isn’t a part of.

Sure, his mentor looks different. Much more shirtless than usual. Dustin never thought he would see him in anything but ripped jeans. His hair is longer, smooth and less matted. The contrast between his dark locks and skin reveals how much paler he’s become. Red eyes are a nice touch that he can appreciate when they aren’t paired with a beating.

When Kas speaks, the boy swears he could see sharpened canines. Were those the very knives that dug into his skin before he passed out?

Regardless, Dustin has his brother back and the happiness that consumes him is undeniable. He would accept him with open arms in any condition.

A tenacious brotherhood built on fantasy, triumphs, and defeats. A deep connection between a Master Inventor and his Dungeon Master. He wishes he could go back, back to when the worst thing that happened was that D&D got canceled because Corroded Coffin finally got a gig.

All he can do is wish.

September 16th, 1985. 8:43pm.

“Yeah, well Mike’s got a girlfriend cross country,” Lucas shares, desperately running away from the attention placed on his and Max’s relationship.

“What the hell,” Mike gripes as Gareth places a firm hand at the back of his neck. He shakes it while releasing a hellish laughter. “Alright Mike, where’d you meet her? I only slightly think she’s made up.”

The group laughs as Eddie watches them from his Dungeon Master’s throne. His foot hangs off the edge with a knee to his chest, hands playing with a small ripped paper.

He is known for his transparency. Whatever he feels is perfectly displayed upon his face. The mood for today is an abundance of annoyance, clear in how he lifts the side of his lips and his eyes roll with each passing second.

“I met her here actually, she just moved away,” Mike shares. “Her name’s-”

Eddie slams his hand down onto the table with a force that shakes the auditorium floor. “Why are we talking about maidens?” he asks with a booming voice as he stands from his seat. “We should be talking about how the party’s going to fight Lolth tomorrow,” he hints.

Dustin’s eyes widen as he slowly asks, “What are you talking about?” He peers around the room, seeing the entire party with mixed expressions of shock and gaping mouths.

Eddie huffs in response, rolling his eyes in annoyance, as he grabs his books and map. “No jerking off tonight, boys. You’re gonna need your throwing hand.”

The party begins to pack up after a rather rough section of the campaign. Only Lucas, Jeff, and Dustin survived, while the rest await their rebirth. Dustin’s brows pull as he watches his fearless leader. The man who is always moving is now perfectly still. He takes heavy breaths as he grips tightly against the top of his chair.

“You coming?” Lucas calls out as he and Mike begin to walk down the stage’s stairs.

“I’ll just meet you there,” Dustin says, waving his hand for the two to leave. He has been trying to find an opportunity to buddy up with the President of Hellfire, maybe this was his chance. “So, Eddie, do you have a sec?” he asks sheepishly.

Eddie now had his forehead plastered upon the chair as his fingers nervously tap on its sides. He groans as his way of replying to the youngling. Dustin lets out a soft chuckle as he nervously asks, “You okay?”

Eddie slowly raises his head as a smile lifts to the right of his cheek. “Yeah, I’m good,” he says with squinting eyes. “Hangovers don’t feel like they used to.” He raises his arms to stretch them before rolling his neck.

“I was wondering if, uh, I could get your advice on something?”

Eddie’s eyes perk as he drops his arms and slides into his chair like a snake. “Why yes, the doctor’s in,” he beams with his smile.

Dustin laughs while pulling a chair out and plopping into the seat. “It’s about girls - uh, maidens,” he starts.

Eddie nods furiously, gesturing with his hands for him to continue. “What is her name?” he inquires. Dustin drops his head nervously, “Susie.”

Eddie’s eyes close as he smiles. “Ah, Susie,” he whispers in acknowledgement. He leans back into his seat, taking a big whiff of the young love in the air.

“Yeah, she, uh, she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I met her back in camp about a year ago and she lives in Utah, but I, uh, I think I love her and I’ve never said that to someone before,” Dustin rambles.

Humming, Eddie sinks back into his chair. His expression is happy and proud of his little freshman. “Well, little man, it sounds like we’re in the exact same situation. If you figure it out, you let me know,” he dismisses with a chuckle.

Dustin is taken aback. A king like Eddie having trouble with girls, uh - maidens? He’s a rockstar for christ’s sake, what kind of problems could he have? “What’s her name?” he asks, just as plainly as Eddie did before. He snickers beneath his grin as he rests a chin upon his fist.

“Let’s just call her Lolly,” Eddie lets out with a breathless chuckle. A coy smile sprawls across his lips.

Dustin’s brow raises with curiosity as he dives in more information. “Lolly, like … Lolth?” he asks, tucking his chin into his neck in excitement. His eyes widen as he lovingly awaits his DM’s answer.

Eddie blows out a raspberry before sinking even further into the throne. He shakes his head while creasing his eyebrows. “Did you nickname her after our next boss?” Dustin laughs out incredulously.

“Maybe,” Eddie retorts in a sing-songy voice. He scoffs, throwing his head back. “Go ahead, honestly, tell me that Lolth isn’t a smokin’ hot babe.”

Henderson smiles, enjoying his mentor’s flustered face. He shrugs, nodding his head - knowing it isn’t wrong. “She must be a badass,” he utters.

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Eddie adds, running his tongue over the front of his teeth. “She’s my spider queen,” he hisses with excitement.

Dustin giggles alongside Eddie. Their smiles fill the room with a rose tinted ambience flooded with nostalgia and happiness between old souled friends. The connection between them was palpable, undeniable. Eddie noticed it the second he laid eyes on the small fella. He knew there was something special about him, and he has yet to be proven wrong.

“In all seriousness, Henderson,” Eddie says lightly, coming down from his laughing fest. “You should tell her. It’s a risk, yeah, but love isn’t really something you can hold onto. Trust me, it eats away at you more than you can imagine. It physically hurts not to say it,” he takes a deep breath. “You’re lucky you don’t have to see her every day.”

His words peak Dustin’s interest. Who is this maiden? Has he seen her before? Does she go to Hawkins High? He’s never seen his DM so vulnerable, and he revels within the precious moment.

“You can tell her too, Eddie,” he whispers, careful not to upset him. The President raises his eyes and stares behind his curly chocolate bangs. “What if she loves you too?”

Eddie’s keen smile pulls to one side as he shakes his head. “She doesn’t even know me,” he mutters, leaning back into his chair.

“Then let her get to know you, man,” Dustin encourages. With a smile, he starts, “A wise man once told me that love was risky but it’s not something you can hold onto-”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Screw you, Henderson,” he mutters with a low hummed chuckle. His head cocks to the side as an idea forms in his mind. He leans his elbows onto the table as he locks eyes with the boy. “Let’s make a pact, right here and right now.” Dustin encouragingly nods. “You tell Susie and I - I’ll tell Lolly,” the words start to lose their muster as he continues.

“You got yourself a deal, Munson,” Dustin slams his hand against Eddie’s, giving him a good shake. A contract that would build the very foundation of their friendship.

April 7th, 1986. 12:11am.

Your mind feels like a dead plane about to crash into the ocean. A slow spiral as you fall from the heavens and dive into the horror show below. First row, VIP ticket. Guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with a true killer.

Without noticing, your hand slowly slips from his arm. Fingers hook onto your chin as you struggle hard to process the information. To make sense of something that just shouldn’t make sense.

“You didn’t know who she was,” you start. Your closed eyes tickle lashes against your cheek. “You - you didn’t.”

Kas’ soft, calm voice breaks through the mist, bringing you back down to that ocean floor. “I did,” he murmurs. “I killed her, and I did it because I knew her.”

You turn to him with tears flooding your vision. The breath is sucked from your lungs, unable to take in more. You finally hit the water - it’s time to sink. “Tell me, just,” you gulp, shaking your head out as your mind screams for you to run. “Make me understand, please.” You turn to him, heaving sobs as you do. “Why did you do this?”

He drops his gaze, not wanting another second of your crying face to be burned into his mind. He hurt you, again. Regret, again. All for an unneeded kill he made so carelessly.

Vickie’s red hair bobbed so effortlessly in the mucky mist of the New World. He immediately recognized her from that unfortunate junior year that he had to take band for his elective. Despite the tragedy, she still was perky and determined to get out.

And that’s why. She had hope, and all he wanted to do was crush it.

Kas hesitantly reaches for you, wanting to comfort you and distance himself from the situation. The very act shakes you to your core, causing you to cower to the other side of the couch. “Don’t,” you say plainly. He drops his eyes while clenching his jaw in pain.

Who did he have to blame this time? It’s not like Henderson was the one who brought up their names. It certainly wasn’t you. You knew he had a list, a list of people who died the way you should have, but he knew you would never want to know who.

And yet, he gave you just that. It breaks any perception that you had of him. The person who took care of you upstairs, who loves you - yeah, that’s a serial killer. Vecna took everything from you. He could care less about how his kills affect other people.

Chrissy died and Eddie became a “serial killer.” Eddie died and … Kas became the serial killer.

“I don’t,” you start but quickly take in a shaky breath. You pinch your brows together, trying so hard to see any future with him beyond this but everything comes up blank.

“I killed because I didn’t know any better,” Kas whispers. His gaze stuck on his hands as they rested between his legs. “I was taught to torture, told that every person in Hawkins would rather see me dead than alive.”

He abruptly stands, practically jumping off the couch. “I had doubts. I - I tested it, you know?” He begins his pacing, desperately trying to stop his heart from exploding his chest with each beat.

“With Kristie and Dick, I saw them. They were under struggling to get out of town hall. I helped them get out,” he slows his movements. “They were so happy to see me. And that made me happy, a-and I thought - ‘yes, he was wrong!’ But they were just happy until I got them out,” he says softly.

“They ran from me, called me an ‘asshole’ and a ‘killer,’” Kas mutters as he stands still before you. “I showed them they were right.”

A wave crashes over you. Weak electricity shoots through your body, tingles that make you feel light headed. Your face falls into your hands as you ponder the thought.

“But then I met you, darlin’,” he says as he crashes onto his knees before you. His big, warm hands pull your palms from your cheeks. “You showed me that there was another way. And - and I don’t want to go back to that.”

Kas takes a sharp breath before clearing his throat. His quivering voice continues, “I still hear their screams.” You slowly raise your eyes to his. His face contorted and solemn as he struggles to hold back heaving sobs.

“I wish you were there,” he drops his head onto your lap. The tears curl around your face. You cannot help the gentle hand that brushes through his hair. “I wish I died in your arms,” he cries. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be in fucking Valhalla or some shit, but I wouldn’t be back here as this monster!”

He sobs into your bare thighs. Your chin quivers as you try to be strong but fail every other second. You feel empty. No worry or remorse toward him or yourself. Just a body floating slowly into the ocean’s depth.

After some time, you whisper coldly, “You are not a monster.” He raises his swollen eyes to you, the innocent chocolate button eyes bow beneath all this façade. “A monster wouldn’t have regrets. Wouldn’t be crying with the person he tried to kill.”

After one last swoop of his soft curly hair, your hand rests at his cheek. Kas leans in as he always does. Those innocent eyes flick up to your hardened gaze. “You are not a monster. Not anymore.” He takes in a shaky inhale through his nose.

“You are going to work hard, harder than you ever have, to make up for what you did.” You gently place your fingers to the side of his chin, squeezing as you guide him to your eyes. Ensuring you are both locked in before finishing your thought.

“But you will never make up for those eleven lives. You will carry them in your heart until you die. And that does not mean you stop fighting to make it right. Do you hear me, Kas?”

His lashes flutter as he unsuccessfully attempts to hold back his tears. He could see the strength within you. The power you hold that has barely scratched the surface. He couldn’t be more in love with you despite the horror of the words that fell from your supple lips.

Kas knows, in this moment, that he will happily die for you a million times. He is crazy about you, completely unhinged and dedicated to your smile. He may never make up for what he’s done, but he will put all his power into trying until the day he dies - not just for you, but him as well. It’s not easy living with a guilty conscience, maybe this will make it a bit lighter.

Regardless his determination is set, your broken heart is more than enough to fuel his intentions.

“I hear you, darlin’,” Kas utters. His hands delicately reach for yours, intertwining your fingers as they should have been from the very start. “I promise you I will try my absolute hardest to make up for what I’ve done.” He pulls your interlocked hands to his lips. A sweet peck with eyes fixed onto you. “I promise you I will work my damned best to be the man you deserve.”

His words pull you right out of your spell. Those worried wrinkled lines between your brow completely smooth out. Eyes fall straight down to your hands. A promise you would never expect from Kas, and one you could count on from Eddie. But one and two are not the same, and fear still encapsulates you.

You want to trust him. To know that he’s that beautiful man who held you in the shower earlier that day. The man who carried you away from danger. The man who saved you from the dangerous, psychotic being he is scared of most in this world.

But he is also the man who took Vickie and all those people from their families. The man who left you in a ocean of your own tears, naked and afraid in that fucked up version of Hawkins. The man who stalked you, hunted you. The man who almost drank you dry to please his own murderer.

“Please don’t break it.” The words fall from your lips involuntarily. You aren’t even sure if “it” is referring to his promise, or your heart. “Please,” you finally raise your eyes to him.

Dustin opens the door, walking into a quiet room. He closes it behind him, locking the deadbolt before landing his back against the wood. It pulls both your attentions, causing Kas to stand and let go of your hand. Your body aches for him, wishing the boy stayed outside just a little bit longer.

“I lied,” he starts. His hands crash at his hips, letting go of a huge breath of relief. “He said something about you when he was …”

It was your turn to release a breath of relief. You are confident, fully confident in the love that you and Eddie shared. Doubt wracked your brain when Dustin told you that he didn’t say anything about you in his last words. For whatever reason, the boy held the information from you. The only way you would get it is if you wait, painfully and patiently. “What did he say?”

Dustin takes a quick look at Kas before returning to you. “He wanted to marry you, after graduation.” You smile with a trembling lip, both taken aback and not surprised at all. The thought of you across from Eddie in a cheesy tux at city hall. It may not be Chicago, or Paris, but being Mrs. Eddie Munson would be an absolute dream that you would choose over the world.

He laughs as he finishes his thought. “I didn’t know who he was talking about before, but, yeah, it’s pretty clear he was talking about you.” The tears hit him again, a tickle at the back of his throat. He tenses his face to hold it all in. “He nicknamed you Lolth, or Lolly,” another breathy chuckle drops. “Pretty badass D&D character, honestly pretty comparable to Kas.”

Your heart warms in a way that turns your body into cotton candy. A sensation you haven’t felt since you last laid your eyes on Eddie. It is almost like he is here. You place your hand upon your chest as you sink into the feeling. “Thank you,” you say with a feverish nod.

Kas watches the woman he loves turn into a rare aurora of orange twinged happiness. He is thankful for the boy, grateful for his honesty. He seeks his eyes to mouth “thank you” himself.

Dustin nods, but quickly looks away as he is too worried to hold the gaze. He brushes a hand through his hair while uttering, “I don’t know what I’m going to tell the others.” Your ears perk up, causing you to jump up and rush towards him. Your hands firmly grabbing onto his. He pulls away, but hones in on your intensity.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Your gaze locked on his hazel brown. Your body becomes a mixture of hot white and cold. You just got him back. No one will take you away from him. No one will hurt him. No. No. No! “They don’t need to know.”

Dustin steps back from you with disgust. His hands are harsh as they rip from yours. It is enough to make Kas take a step forward and let out a thick, heated breath. “They need to know,” he starts pointing to Kas. “He is the last person to see Vecna alive. We need to know everything so we can put that asshole into the ground.”

You turn back to Kas, a slow glance over your left shoulder. His attention is pulled upon seeing your movement. Your brows raise at their tips, trying to discern what he is thinking. A slow smile gradually pulls across his lips. An encouraging nod shoots your way.

The relief filling your chest finally allows you to take a deep breath. You extend your arm backwards with a hopeful expression. He happily reaches for your hand, resting his warm palm against you.

Kas stands beside you, in front of Dustin. In this moment, you realize that he and you are forever. It may not be perfect, it may not be Eddie, but you are in it - for the long haul. Protecting each other against any potential harm. His fight is your fight, just as it should have been with Eddie. There’s no way you’re backing down.

You shake out your hair, taking in a slow breath for confidence and neutrality. “Who are ‘we?’” you ask. One simple question to determine the safety of the journey forward. Dustin looks to Kas, seeking the answer within him. How did this boy not get it yet? He shakes his head. He doesn’t know every thing.

Dustin turns to you, clenching his jaw. “Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Lucas, Erica, Mike, El, and Will.” The names float in the air, almost each one recognizable to you. These are the people you see in the hallways. The people in the cafeteria. The people who run the school newspaper. The people in the band. The popular kids. God, how the hell are they all mixed up in this? The only name missing being …

“Max,” you call out. “You said Max knew what was going on. What - Why isn’t she going to be there?” You rake his face, desperate for an answer, only to see him grow solemn. Kas knew that Henderson’s face undoubtedly meant bad news. He squeezes your hand, letting you know that he is here for you.

The silence feels unbearable. Your skin is on fire and about to implode. “J-Just tell me,” you start before taking a deep inhale. “Is she dead?”

“No,” Dustin states. Your heart skips a beat as you gasp in happiness. Max is far too young, far too young to be gone… “But she’s hurt and it’s bad.”

Your body stills as your breath escapes you once again. “What do you mean?” you utter quickly. Another squeeze to your hand.

“She’s in the hospital,” the boy utters under his breath.

You push past him, reaching for the door knob. You don’t even know where you’re going but you are going.

Kas is the one who’s calm hand rests on your forearm, causing you to pause. He models a breath with you before flicking his eyes to Henderson. “Tell the party we’re meeting at Harrington’s at 8. You pick us up at 6 and bring us to Max, then to the party,” he states without a second of hesitancy. Your eyes light up before turning to see Dustin’s reaction.

“Done,” the boy promises.

“Dustin!”

All three of you drop, closer to the ground. The voice comes from outside. You can hear heavy boots onto the steps of the porch before crashing his knuckles against the wood. “Dustin, your mom called.” He groans before knocking again. “Common, I know you’re in there - I can see the light on.”

Steve Harrintgon’s timbre is incredibly clear. He is here, a simple door away to finding out the truth.

Your heart races faster than it ever has, faster than when you thought you were going to die. You panic, thinking what would happen if Kas and Steve come face to face in such an abrupt manner.

When you whip your head to Kas, his face is calm and unbothered. It gives you strength - a chance to take a breath.

“Henderson, please. It’s already midnight and Robin’s in the car. If you don’t come out soon, she’s gonna start holding down on the horn,” Steve says with an exhausted tone. A huge yawn follows his words.

Dustin shoots his eyes towards Kas. He gestures for you both to move, to make your way to the kitchen. Kas nods, and guides you over with your intertwined hands.

“Just wait a damn second, Harrington,” Dustin spits out. “I’m getting my shit.” Kas leads you behind the fridge, squeezing your hand in repetitive pulses until you both are safely hidden.

Dustin swings the door open and steps outside, pushing his way through Steve’s burgundy sweater. “Dude, you gotta stop coming here,” he scolds as the boy closes the door behind him. “How did you even get in?” The voices trail off, but you remain silent, still, and pressed against the fridge.

Upon hearing Steve’s car pull away, you let out a breath of relief. You instinctually let go of Kas’ hand, stretching your arms and cracking your knuckles to release the tensing pressure. “That was close,” you whisper under your breath.

Kas slowly wraps his arms around your waist, digging your hips against his. “It was,” he says as his eyes rake over your features. One hand releases to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. It is almost as though he is lovingly adoring everything but your eyes, leaving them for last.

“Should we finally get that rest now?” he suggests with a smirk.

Your eyes fall on him as though this was your first time ever truly seeing him. The way his lips part when he looks at you. Those eyes that stop your heart every time they land on you. The way his curled locks land right on his collar bones. His alabaster skin, soft and sensual. The spider tattoo on his peck that you love so much.

Before you knew it, your hand was trailing across his torso. Peck to peck, before sliding down his sternum and onto his belly. Your eyes were locked, as though they were in a trance, completely intoxicated by his incredible body. Almost as though an alarm went off, your head perks and returns back to hold his gaze. “I would like that.”

Kas smiles as he leads you back into the living room, back up the stairs, and back into the room that will forever, now, be deemed as yours. He lands back onto the mattress, floating upon its waves, as he guides you down beside him.

Your head rests where it belongs, on your favorite spider tattoo and just above his heart. His arm wraps around the small of your back. A hand lightly tracing dancing fingers against your upper arm as you pull closer into his chest.

A sleep you have been waiting for. A sleep you deserve - you both deserve.

“Good night, Kas,” you whisper against his skin. “Good night, darlin’,” he whispers back.

“I love you.”

note: people really need to stop bothering lolly and kas during their vacation stay at reefer rick's! also, i am physically cringing at the thought of kas meeting the party. I oh so very scared and idk what's gonna happen. get ready y'all.

season two finale • coming soon •

comment or reblog to join the taglist! [join our kas cult]

taglist: @babeyglo, @dotslabyrinth, @wheaty-melon, @mattymurdocksbitch, @sammararaven, @onlyfengs22, @ms1oftheboys, @ghosttownwherenoonegoes, @tayhar811, @hiscrimsonangel, @ali-r3n, @secretdryrose, @stranger-messenger, @ohmeg, @username7430, @seatnights, @bit-of-a-timelord, @nefelibata-dreams (🥰), & @squigglebottom (welcome😘)

• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

75 notes · View notes

theoldmixer · 5 months

Note

do you have fic recs for this momentous day?

Anon you have come to the right place. Sick!fics are my absolute favorite.

Though when looking for recs to give you, I can't seem to find as many as I remember reading lol maybe there's not as many as I thought? But here's some to get you started:

Day by Day by @themagicalmysticalboy

Sick to His Stomach by @econhomework

Chapter 8 of Going Nowhere by @inspiteallthedanger has a flashback

I Feel Fine by me! (yes going to toot my own horn🤷🏻‍♀️)

Any others I missed?

#pauls momentous 1963 stomach flu #fic recs #sickfic #paul mccartney #beatles fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs