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#blink and you'll miss it
fyeaheddiemunson · 2 months
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*sound on*
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ascesabo · 22 days
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sometimes i want to reach through the screen and shake sabo by the shoulders because. god. there's just so much going on with him.
he's first introduced through the veil of luffy's memories- here he's just another feral jungle kid, sticking it out with ace and luffy, the 'nicer' brother in young luffy's eyes. and then boom. you find out he's a runaway noble trying to escape his abusive, neglectful family- and this changes nothing, they still get to become sworn brothers, but just as quickly as this is resolved, his asshole of a dad takes the three of them hostage. and what does sabo do? he gives up the little sliver of freedom he'd fought for, is willing to become miserable and lonely again if it means ace and luffy are spared. and then he comes home to find that in his absence, his parents have already found a replacement! great!
and he doesn't even get to address how fucked up that is, because stelly runs his mouth and now sabo's too busy trying to figure out how to stop his brothers and their home from getting burnt to the ground. he never gets to give them a proper goodbye- he exhausts himself trying to reach them, but he can't because. you know. he's ten. so where does this leave sabo? ten years old, with nowhere to go- he sets out to sea to try and start over, and for the crime of wanting to escape a terrible life, he's punished with an explosion to the face. he loses his memories, his brothers lose him- and so the cycle continues.
then the army saves him, takes him in; he's essentially a child soldier, with how prodigious of a fighter he is from the get-go. but hey, he thinks he's finally found his footing, even if his past's a blur to him- then it all comes flooding back. in the worst way possible. he sees his brother's corpse and he remembers, but it doesn't matter, does it? he's too late, ace is gone, and sabo's lost ten years of a life he could have shared with his brothers. we don't even know how (if, even) he recovers from this- except for a single passing statement from koala, asking him if he's 'had that dream again' because he'd been crying in his sleep. this is never brought up or addressed again. great!plus, we never do find out if getting blown up at the ripe old age of ten could have left any lasting fire-related trauma; and if it does, what does that mean for sabo, who's pretty much made of it, now?
both of these questions are answered at once- sabo treats the fire as if it's ace. it's ace's legacy he's carrying on, and it's ace he seeks freedom for. he copes by making sure ace lives on in his flames, and how can he ever hate the fire living in him if that fire is all he has left of the brother he never got to see again?
i just have to wonder about him, because he's got so many Issues that just. don't ever get addressed? every time we see him deal with his grief (episode of sabo, his own retelling of events in dressrosa) we never really discover anything about him. i wonder how it felt to finally remember the childhood that eluded him, just to find out he was an unwanted, replacable child. how he feels, living with the knowledge that he could have done something to save ace, that he'd failed to remember the two people he loved the most? i wonder just how terribly that guilt must weigh down on him- because where luffy's already begun to heal, sabo still sees ace in everything he does. his title of flame emperor is a direct callback to ace's final attack in his fight against blackbeard. he talks to his goddamn fire like his brother is still in front of him, which is sweet and heartbreaking and, considering his backlog of unaddressed trauma... incredibly unhealthy. i know these will probably be left unresolved for the sake of moving the story forward- but god, sabo, are you okay?
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sentient-stove · 6 months
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“Wait, him?”
Who else did the other think Frank was talking about? Hazel only had one brother.
“Yep.”
Leo tore out the paper he was sketching on, crumpling it into a ball before throwing it at the trash can at the edge of the bleachers. It made it in and only then did the upperclassman look at Frank, mouth screwed into a frown. “He’s a mall goth.”
“Okay so?”
“I’m straight.”
“Half the school literally watched you make out with the captain of the swim team and the captain of the track team for homecoming game last year.” Frank countered. “You’re a bisexual bitch.”
“Woah big guy, no need to insult me.” Leo held up his hands in surrender. “One—”
“Technically two,”
“Technically two make out sessions in front of peers does not a bisexual bitch make. Plus Percy was definitely high when we made out and his girlfriend is the better kisser.”
Frank actually did not want to know that information. “I’ll pay you twenty dollars per date.”
“Babygirl that won’t even cover gas prices. Say I take mr emo to a movie. That’s thirty bucks for two tickets, additional ten for a large popcorn and you know we’re gonna want to split a slushie since the cinemax has the cola flavor the gas stations don’t. That’s another eight bucks. Nah, I want seventy-five per date.”
“No way.” Frank automatically responded. “That’s way too much per date.”
“Enjoy not being able to kiss your girlfriend while I collect all the sports captains then.”
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pseudo-hero · 5 months
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Quick Animated Character Appreciation: ROTSM Kon-El Gives Me HEART ATTACK
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Have I made it clear yet how much I enjoy this version of Kon-El? I don't think I have: This sugar-high-on-a-1000, raging-hormone/in-puberty, outdated slang-having, cocky kid was the best thing from the Reign of the Supermen movie and the entirety of that two-parter saga. He was such an adorably annoying little showoff and hustler (at least at one point with Clark) who you could tell had mountains more of depth beneath the surface just waiting to jump out! Perfect combination of Clark/Superman and Lex Luthor in every way, too! I love, love, loved it! He was exactly how the character should ideally be written and portrayed imo! (Side Note: Look at the tears that the girl behind him to our right [in the second image] is shedding! She adores this Kon-El that much. And I don't blame her!)
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Superboy to a not-actually-dead Superman a few minutes after meeting him: *Probably dumps his ocean-sized amount of trauma onto him which Lex has already put him through in the short amount of time that he and Lex have known each other and been in contact* "...Seriously. A room full of hungry...bizarros."
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A "resurrected", oddly calm yet probably very concerned Superman: "Sounds harrowing."
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Superboy, now seeing his chance to hustle a new home with his other dad: "Soo, can I live with you or not?"
Superman with months-worth of 5 o' clock shadow: *Doesn't even get a chance to think it over yet, much less respond, due to them being interrupted by Steel The Third Wheel (but also doesn't say no)*
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Gosh I'm so sad/mad we'll never get see him in Superman Media again because they permanently deaded that universe!! 🥺 (Plus they forced us to watch him get slaughtered!!!! 😩) I won't forget him anytime soon though!! He'll stay in my primary color-painted heart!!!! 💛❤️💙
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courtingchaos · 1 year
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Rent the Space Inside My Mind
1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I PT 6
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: During a hazy afternoon y'all get a little lost in your heads. Eddie tells you a really funny joke.
A/N: Jesus christ this got away from me. I've had this open for two weeks (???) just chipping away and rewriting and deleting everything. I need it off my phone. I'm so sick of looking at it! I really hope you guys enjoy it! This one gets a little spicy? Nothing crazy, just some daydreaming and just All of The Pining Imaginable. I'm not sick of these two being oblivious yet, so strap in friends. (AlsoAlso, just tossing this out there this is 18+, and will just get worse as it goes on so like don't interact if your a lil baby please) Y'all wanna see the gif again?
Friday afternoons were very specifically You and Eddie hangout hours. Typically quiet, never boring, it now usually started with a blunt since someone (you) had broken someone else’s ( Eddie’s) bong. It had truly been an honest mistake and while Eddie held no grudges, he did miss watching you pull on the thick smoke, so many thoughts rushing at him in those few precious seconds. You’d cough, eyes watering and he’d wonder if you’d make the same sounds with him buried in your mouth.
Slow your roll, cowboy.
It’d been maybe an hour since you kicked his bedroom door in, a McDonald’s bag held in either hand.
“Oh my queen, is that what I think it is?”
“Literally six large fries dude.”
You toss one bag at him where he’s laying on his bed, and beeline for his dresser to drop your stuff. You glance up at his first love while you shuck your jacket off and he’s obviously watching you because he playfully says “Go on, give her a kiss. You know you want to.”
Looking over, you’re 100 percent right. Fries sticking out his mouth, he’s got that shit eating grin plastered on his face, his dimples deep and soft and you just want to grab him there with your thumb and middle finger pressed in and push him back into his pillow.
“I’m not kissing your guitar.” You say flatly.
You on the other hand…
He pouts at you while you start digging around the top drawer, looking for the party supplies.
“You know, I wouldn’t go all haphazard in my drawers like that if I were you.”
“What, afraid I’m gonna find something dirty again?” You throw that over your shoulder while you search for the pre roll you know should be in there.
“Ha ha ha”, Eddie mock laughs, getting up from the bed to open a different drawer in the dresser. “I moved it, made more sense over here.” He pulls out a small wooden box and closes the drawer quick. You quirk an eyebrow at him and dart your eyes between him and the drawer his hand is still on. He just smiles easy and shakes the wooden box at you.
“Oh look at you, a whole box now? What, loose weed in your socks not your thing anymore?” You tease him and pluck it out of his hands to dig through it.
“Aha!”, the blunt you had so lovingly rolled on Wednesday in his van, parked outside of your own trailer before you went in for the night. Made like a pinkie promise for Friday afternoon, he’d taken it with a bow of his head; a knight receiving the fair lady’s favor.
“I’ll guard it with my life.” He meant it too.
Eddie had watched you, completely enraptured, run the tip of your pink tongue along a seam of the blunt, the smallest glint of metal peaking out of your mouth. He had tried being as sly as he could be, but he was sure he’d been actively panting by the time you handed it to him. This little fucking thing clutched in his hand had seen more action from you than he ever would. For that, it stayed in his possession.
“You better, that’s the last of that bag.” You’d held the empty ziplock up when you got out of the van, shrugging at him. Eddie promised to pick up only the best from Rick before Friday, so you dug forty bucks out of your wallet for him.
He’d long ago stopped arguing with you about paying since you were the one with an actual job. The bookstore downtown took up three of your afternoons normally, which is why Friday Fundays were created. If Hellfire wasn’t meeting and he didn’t have band practice, he’d sometimes bum around bothering you and your few coworkers.
They had all taken a liking to Eddie, firstly because he was pretty well read, and could quote Tolkien at them fast as lighting. Most of the older women you worked with were just as easily charmed by his big dimpled smile and his abundance of ‘ma’am’s’.
Secondly, he was typically quiet but always respectful so because of this, every single one of them had asked you on multiple occasions if you two had started dating yet. Always prefaced with a big sigh, you’d tell them ‘Why no, of course not, he is actually just my friend.’ It would always end with them tittering and smiling, talking about how boys were never friends with girls like that when they were younger.
“Georgia, it’s 1983, times do change.” You’d reminded your coworker one evening while you both watched Eddie rifling through books on a bottom shelf. Georgia had leveled a look at you and said, “I think after 62 years, I’d see when a boy likes a girl.” You’d wanted to remind Georgia of her coke bottle glasses but kept that one to yourself.
Eddie didn’t like you, not like that. You were positive. The two of you had come together as friends, nothing more. It wasn’t his fault you’d turned 16 and suddenly became aware of his dimples when he smiled at you, or how big his hands were when he’d grab at you when the two of you roughhoused. You’d kept this attraction on complete lockdown for two years and you weren’t about to let Georgia from the bookstore pry it out of you.
Firstly, and Most Importantly, he was your pit buddy. Very early on in the friendship, still both 15 and fresh faced and trying desperately to get into local shows, you’d realized you were both pretty hardy individuals. After saving Eddie from a beating by a Senior boy and then the next week starting a fight over one of the first uses of ‘Freak’ towards him, it’d given both of you an idea of what you could handle.
And it was glorious.
You’d only ever had girlfriends before meeting Eddie and while you did genuinely like doing the girly things, no one ever wanted to do the tomboy things with you. Now though you suddenly had someone who wasn’t afraid of getting into it with you, especially in the middle of a crowd of moving bodies. The first show had been some local band playing just outside of Hawkins, they were metal-ish and loud and fast and it was everything Eddie had promised it’d be. The two of you had spent the hour after the show waiting for your mom and wrestling in the grass next to the venue, taking turns throwing each other on the ground. That night had been the most fun you’d had in a long time and by the time you both climbed into the back of your mom’s station wagon you were breathless and covered in grass and laughing.
Your mom dropped Eddie off with Wayne, apologizing for the dirt child she was leaving on his doorstep.
“I have no idea what happened in an hour.” She’d kind of laughed, and Wayne waved her off telling her Eddie had come home looking worse.
“Tell Ms. Helen thank you.” Wayne said, herding him inside while Eddie yelled out goodbyes and thank you’s. On the short ride to your trailer on the backend of the park, your mom had tried to grill you for information about Eddie. You were honest with her, that the grass and dirt was from play fighting and the few cuts on your knees were from going nuts during the concert. Obviously she was concerned, but she admitted to you before turning the car off,
“I’m just happy you’re making friends hun, that’s all I want.”
~
Holed up in Eddie’s room, the window cracked just barely to help circulate air and keep as much warm in, you take your normal position on the floor, leaned up against the bed. His head is hanging off the edge while he tries to blow smoke rings.
He waves the blunt in front your face and you wave him off while you dig through your book bag to find your D&D notes. Diamond Head is on low in the background and you hum along while you look for the scribbles you’d jotted down during lunch earlier.
“What tragic character have you created now?” His voice is deep from the smoke and the angle he has his head tilted at. You don’t even chance a glance sideways, just clench your jaw and flex your toes in your shoes.
“No one new, I was thinking of some like, extra story for my cleric.”
“Oh Christ, not the corn god again.”
“Yes the corn god, all praise Helio.” You say it with no emotion but hold your hands up in praise above you. Eddie rolls his eyes and copies you, muttering ‘Praise Helio’ under his breath.
The two of you fall into quiet conversation, passing the blunt back and forth until it’s hard to pinch, stubbed out in the ashtray next to your leg.
Honestly you thought Eddie had fallen asleep with how quiet he was so you’d shifted away from the bed to lay next to it on the floor. Engrossed in notes from one of Eddie’s DM binders (and a good steady high), you don’t notice him slowly moving to keep you in his line of sight. He had been close to sleep but you shifting had stirred up your perfume from your hair and pulled him from his daze. Something sweet and deep that hung around his room long after you’d left.
He had only recently really admitted to himself just how head over heels he was for you so this attention he was leveling at you was still surprising to him. In fact, he’d picked up a new little habit: small things of yours that just happened to find their way into his pocket. Stuff you’d never really miss but little things that made him think of you. Hair clips that he actually used sometimes. A few chapsticks and one of your eyeliner pencils, a guitar pick you’d use when messing with his acoustic and a minifig that he knew you were looking for but it wasn’t important to this campaign so it didn’t matter right now. If a t-shirt of yours found its way in there it was none of his business.
Under the assorted stolen tchotchkes was a single Polaroid he kept tucked deep in the drawer under the little cigar box he’d handed over to you earlier.
That lived face down in the drawer lest you almost accidentally ever see it again. He’s not a pervert (Don’t lie to yourself Munson) but this was an accidental photo taken at an opportune time. Halloween the year before and you had shown up to his trailer in an Elvira getup that had Eddie clutching the counter to stay upright. Complete with black wig and tits out to the universe he was sure he’d never seen so much of you on display. Standing in the doorway you’d had to call his name a few times before he invited you in, Eddie stuck in a staring contest with your chest. You’d done a little half turn for him once inside where he all but vomited compliments at you over your painfully accurate costume. If he followed you around like a dog all night, it was only to make sure he was somehow marking you as untouchable to everyone else.
This was just one of the rich kids parties so Eddie was there to sell and you had tagged along for an excuse to dress up. Normally Eddie would plant himself in his van for an hour or two and then head home but you seemed to be enjoying the party, even though you barely left his side. He never actually partied with this crowd of rich assholes but the combination of you, beer, and everyone being moderately decent to him all night lent to him letting his guard down. By the time midnight had rolled around the two of you were a drunk giggling mess, looking everywhere for the wig you had eventually torn off in the heat of the house.
The morning had snuck up on you though, both of you jolted awake by an errant ray of light seeping through the blinds in the strange living room. You found your shoes by the front door and you two snuck out to Eddie’s van and headed home.
It wasn’t until he was sat outside his own trailer, smoking before heading in, that he found the Polaroid in the breast pocket of his jacket. Eddie had found a camera at some point, he can vaguely remember that. And he had taken this crooked photo of you, legs stretched out and propped up in front of you with the slit of your dress hiked up around your hip. Your head thrown back against the couch while a cigarette hung out of the corner of your mouth. The long line of your neck mapping a trail down to the deep cut neckline and just cleavage for days. Eddie stares and stares for so long before he notices in the bottom corner of the photo, your hand resting on his thigh, painted black nails digging into the dark denim.
It takes his forgotten cigarette burning down to the filter and burning his finger to snap him out of his lust daze.
That photo had lived beside his bed for a good while, serving as a bookmark in many things. (Which is how you’d almost found it one afternoon in his copy of Salem’s Lot.)
He’d stare at it before bed, imagining whatever scenario he could that involved you crawling over that couch and devouring him. Your lips painted dark red, leaving marks all over his neck and you hair, curled and soft from being pinned up all night dragging over his shoulder. He’d never been with a girl that had really taken her time with him but he imagined you would. He knew how soft your hands were, could imagine what they’d feel like dragging down his ribs over his stomach, tugging at his belt. You’d push his shirt up while pulling his jeans down and look up at him with that glint in your eye, the one you’d get before you really threw yourself fully into something.
Sometimes this would be the softest imagined scenario all quiet moans and gentle kisses, you handling him so carefully. Featherlight touches down his thighs, your hands soft around him while you whispered little praises up at him from between his knees. Those were nights where he was feeling especially lovesick (like when you were out on a fabled date). Getting deep into his feelings in the dark, sometimes not even actually jerking off, just thinking of you while he lay in his bed trying to sleep.
The other times though, those times he’d grab you up in front of everyone at that party and find a dark corner of that rich kids kitchen. He’d walk you backwards, up against a wall and cage you in with his body, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other ghosting down your side to grab at your hip. Without shoes on your only a few inches shorter than him, but you’d still have to look up at him from under your lashes. Your hands would wrap up the sides of his face and wind in his hair and you’d pull him down to you, lips soft and warm. He’d hook a finger in the neckline of your dress to try and get your tits out and he just knew they’d fit so perfect in his hands. You’d mewl at him and make all the little noises he could imagine you might make when he runs his fingers over the lace of your bra. He’d smirk at you while you pulled at his neck, trying to get him closer, pulling your body flush up against his. Slot your leg between his and grind up on him to feel the hard length of him against your thigh.
It didn’t take much for him to picture you bent over a bathroom vanity, hands braced on the sink in front of you and crying for him. His hand fisted in the velvet of your dress and pushing it up to your waist so he could watch himself bury his cock in you while you whined and moaned for him to not stop, never stop, keep going your gonna make me cum-
The shuffling of paper brings him back down into his room. Remembers that you are also in his room and he has to keep his fucking imagination in check because you can clearly see the raging hard on he has from your place on the floor. Only if you looked over that is, just a turn of your head and you could see him straining against his jeans-
He mentally slaps himself back in place and takes a deep breath to try to focus on something literally anything that isn’t you and your tits and your thighs and your breathing…
From your position on the floor you can see Eddie lying face up on his bed, eyes closed, fingers tapping on his chest along with the drum beat. The notes you’ve been looking at are held at such an angle that you’re actually just peering at him like a little creep over the top. Watching his fingers tap, watching his chest rise and fall, watching his face scrunch up when he hears the bass really kick in. It’s lulling you into a stasis of sorts; you’ve been good and toasty for a bit now, the two of you no longer essentially hotboxing his room. The floor was supposed to be grounding you so you’d stop imagining things like climbing up on the bed with him. Would he even open his eyes or would he just smile?
Assume you were trying to get comfortable.
You could surprise him. Tangle your hand up in his hair and pull his head back to hold him in place while you attacked his neck, leaving little red marks up and down the column of his throat. Maybe he’d laugh, all breath and a little gasping, the vibrations making you smile against him. You could move your way up to his mouth and he’d taste just like you’d imagined a hundred times before. Tobacco and weed and a little salty from the fries he’d been eating earlier.
This is not the first, nor will it be the last time, that you sit and wonder what secrets that mouth beholds.
You are slowly spinning out on the floor of his room, your mind going…well, more like an inch a minute rather than a mile. Eddie’s notes long forgotten next to you in the carpet, you’re just about to drift off into your daydream about his fingers tap tap tapping down your sternum when he clears his throat and turns his head to look at you, says something you don’t catch.
“What?”
“I said ‘can I ask you something?’” He repeats himself and rolls over to lean on an elbow. His eyes are fixed on you, a notch between his brows making him look worried.
“What’s up?”
“Can I rain check next Friday?” He asks you almost hesitantly. It takes a few seconds for you to catch up before you frown a little yourself.
“And postpone the Friday night french fry extravaganza? What, you got a hot date or something?” You think you’re being slick but a blush starts to creep up his neck.
“No way! Did Gwen change her mind?!” You sit up from the floor to crawl over to the edge of the bed where you prop your chin to grin up at him. Your daydream is left with the notes while you rush into his space, face close to his own. Weed is still hugging your faculties pretty warmly so you don’t get a chance to stop your eyes drifting down his face to his lips.
He absolutely does not miss that look, but he’s also dipped pretty deep in this high so he lets it go because this is new. He’s never seen you look at him like that before; bites his bottom lip because he’s not entirely sure what’s happening in this moment.
No harm in letting you stare.
No harm in him watching you worry at your own lip.
Please let me bite that for you.
Your eyes finally snap back up to his with a questioning look in them.
Yes yes yes do it first please I’m too much of a coward.
Time is molasses the way the guitar in the background is molasses and you’re just staring at each other when you huff lightly.
“So…Gwen?”
Yeah, Gwen. Who’s Gwen?
“Uh yeah kind of? Nothing like crazy or whatever.” He breaks eye contact with you to stare at his blanket and pick at it. He’s not even sure why he’s still set on hanging out with her honestly, not with this huge fuckin’ crush he’s got burning for you. That first time he’d asked Gwen it had been with some actual feeling behind it. It’d only taken her a week to come back after turning him down though, a quiet question on her lips. Cornering him in the parking lot after school she’d made it a point to get him alone by his van where they were out of eyesight of everyone else. That should have been his first clue that this wouldn’t be a real date, but he’d been too caught off guard by the god damn cheer outfit.
“Does that offer still stand?” She’s sweet and a little naive maybe and he’s kind of weak for that so of course it does. Anything to get you off of his mind.
“For what?”
“Going out for a bite.”
“I mean sure, if you’re free.”
“Of course silly. Next Friday though.” She giggles and tucks a note with her number into his vest pocket.
He tells you all this, not looking up from his blanket the whole time. He admits that he knows she probably isn’t really interested in going out with him but she seems fun and nice and like who cares right?
“Yeah, she gets to test out what kind of freak I am and I probably get laid so…” he trails off. You’re still all up in his space so you can see his eyes darting around his blanket, looking for a distraction. This isn’t the first of these kinds of conversations between the two of you and you’ve seen that hurt in his eyes before. It’s not like Eddie is laying waste to all the girls of Hawkins High. He’s got maybe a solid handful of conquest under his belt, but they’ve all mostly treated him like a big secret. Something they got to do on a weekend or three and then moved on to something better. Something brighter. Something more well rounded and presentable.
“It’s not like she’s gonna take me home to meet mom.” His laugh is small and hollow when he rolls back over to stare at his ceiling. You pull yourself away from the edge of the bed, the cozy little spell broken.
“Listen man, you don’t have to go out with her. Just cancel it. What’s the worst that’ll happen? She doesn’t talk to you anymore?” You’re trying to break the sad tension with a joke and a gentle punch to his shoulder. He doesn’t budge, just sighs real big and continues to stare up at nothing.
You’re not super worried about this. Either he doesn’t hang out with her and you two get to have your normal Friday, or he does and you wait it out like you have with the others.
See, Gwen is an easy obstacle. She’s one of the nice cheerleaders, and she’s a year below you guys but she has no idea what she’s dipping her toe into. Eddie is a special brand of person and with his ability to talk an ear off, he’s sure to scare her off quickly. They’ll go out on their date and probably fool around a few times and then she’s going to comment on Hellfire. Or his band. Or his music. And then Eddie is going to get bored. He’ll remember what it’s like to talk about his interest unhindered with his little group of misfits and he’ll come back, acting like nothing ever happened.
So you have nothing to worry about.
Gwen will be easy.
💕Tags List💕
@edsforehead, @fracturedarkness, @munsonsguitarpick
Thank you again you guys!
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floralembarrassment · 11 months
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i love your writing sm! could i please request something with james and regulus being attached to each other? like james and regulus need to be touching somewhere at all times. thanks in advance if you do decide to write it!
Hello! Interesting request... I'm not sure this is exactly what you asked for but it is what you inspired! with love
Exploring (1/1) (jegulus)
"James!" Regulus shouted. It was supposed to be a warning but really it was all fear.
James had run right to the edge of the barrier to look over the ocean, not slowing until he hit it. Regulus had visions of him tumbling right over the edge.
James laughed as he held his arms wide and let the wind whip at his hair. "Woohoo!!!" He held into it, a smile plastered on his face shiny clear in his eyes.
"Reg come on! You have to see this!" James turned his head and hollered back.
Regulus was standing a few feet away still, too afraid to get near the edge. Partly because in another he might not want to stay on this side of the barrier, even though he has chosen in this one to stay. The other part that kept him away was the water. He could hear the waves crashing at the rocks, he could already feel the wind pushing him one way and then the next.
But he did come all this way.
And here he was, with James' hand outstretched to him. An invitation. A promise of safety. A place to stay grounded.
He took a deep breath with the wind and took a few steps forward, grabbing onto James.
And then he look up and looked out over the beautiful view. He could see why James had been smiling so brightly. It was incredible. And suddenly he was just holding James' hand, then just their pinkies were linked together, as they both marvelled over the the waters and Regulus felt so safe enough to explore so long as he was near enough to feel James' warm touch.
They spent hours walking up and down the edge, minding their steps but loving the view. James was extra happy because not only did he get to see this magnificent piece of the earth, he got to see his favourite view, Regulus enjoying him.
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isolophilian · 4 months
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where are the gif sets of Mrs. Dodds' transformation. i need them
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littlebabywille · 2 years
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the most insane six seconds of young royals
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darkthingshappen · 9 months
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Aaawwweee! I want to give Ben all of them! 🥺❤️
Ok gotta make a choice🤔
Let‘s give him: 🥰+🍳
Post Nightmare Cuddles and Breakfast in Bed
Ben awoke with a start.  He was gasping for air and covered in a cold sweat.  He sat up and pulled his knees to his chest.  He pressed his head to his knees and tried to calm his breathing.  
“Benny?  You okay?" Zoe said, rolling over next to him in bed.  
She rested her hand on his bare shoulder and he flinched.  She pulled her hand away and sat up to be next to him.  She gently rubbed his back, her fingers absently tracing the lines of scar tissue that criss crossed his body.  
She didn’t say anything.  She simply waited with him.  Waited for him to come back to her.  
“It was just a dream,” He finally whispered.  “I’m okay.  I’m… I’m okay.”
Ben was still panting.  It felt so real.  He could feel the cuffs on him, the collar, the hands…  Ben scrabbled his fingers down his face.  
“I just need a minute.  I’ll… I’ll be back.  Go back to bed.”
Ben tossed the covers back and got up and walked to the window.  He threw the curtains back and stared out at the moonlit night.  The air in the room chilled his damp skin.  He flexed his fingers, his palms giving a slight throb at the stretch around the scar tissue.  
Being able to see the wide open sky always helped when he felt like this.  
A moment later Zoe’s familiar hands were on his shoulder, her soft, warm body pressed up against his back.  
“It’s okay, Benny.  You haven’t had a nightmare in a while.  Deep breaths, my love.  It’s okay.”
Her hands moved slowly, caressing from the back of his shoulders, around his strong arms, over his chest and then flattened out over his abdomen.  She rested her head on his back and they swayed slightly in the moonlight.  
He laid his hands over hers.  She was right, it had been a while.  The demons that haunted him at night were long gone, but every now and then, they reared their ugly heads and tried to claw him back again.  
He turned in her arms.  “I love you.  You’re so good to me.”
She rested her head against the solid plain of his marred chest.  Again her fingers traced the scars on his body, the ghosts of old tattoos that were long since removed.  She’d memorized every mark and kissed the hurt away from each and every one of them.  
He rested his cheek on the top of her head and together they stood in the quiet and the dark.  
“I love you, Benny.  You’re so good to me as well.”
“Hmmm,” he hummed into her hair.  
Zoe listened to his heart rate slowly calm down.  There had been many a night she’d helped him battle his demons.  But they grew less frequent as time passed.  
Finally she looked up at him.  “Come back to bed?”
Ben exhaled and nodded.  Zoe sat and pulled him to her, pulling the blankets up to cover them both.  He pillowed his head on her breasts and she stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head.  
“Rest, my beautiful darling.  I’ll keep watch for a bit.”
Now it was Ben’s turn to listen to a heartbeat.  He let the slow steady rhythm of it lull him back into a peaceful sleep.  
*!*!*!*!*
Morning arrived with the sound of birdsong and the smell of coffee.  He breathed a contented sigh as he thought over the night before.  The nightmares sucked, but at least he wasn’t alone.  
Zoe came into the room and handed him a steaming cup of coffee.  He could smell the hazelnut.  She settled in next to him and they both drank in quiet solitude.  He read morning headlines on his phone while she scrolled through social media.  It was all so mundane.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.  
Was he whole?  No.  Part of him never would be.  Was he happy?  Completely.  There were things that he’d wished he’d never experienced, but they were all part of who he was and how he came to be in this moment right now.  
He pulled Zoe towards him and kissed her temple.  She smiled at him, placed her hand on his cheek and pulled his face toward her.  Their lips touched and Ben wondered if he’d make it out of bed today.  If he didn’t it would be okay.
Tags: @i-can-even-burn-salad @peachy-panic @deluxewhump @arwenadreamer @whumpcereal @melancholy-in-the-morning @dont-touch-my-soup @whumpsday @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @oddsconvert @melennui @susiequaz12 @morning-star-whump @crystalquartzwhump @whump-and-other-things @mylifeisonthebookshelf @reflected-pain @hold-him-down @quietshae @quietly-by-myself @there-will-always-be-bloodblood @whumping-seven-days-a-week @hiding-in-the-shadows @mj-or-say10 (I hope I’m not forgetting anyone - please let me know if I am and I’ll fix it. I’m still getting used to this) 
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3dprintcess · 8 months
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Series 9 outtakes. x
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link-sans-specs · 7 months
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Gotcha. 😘
GMMore2289
The Worst Snacks We Ate This Month
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basicallyahedgehog · 2 years
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Today marks ten years since I made a fanfiction net account. Whilst I didn't post anything for another month, I count this as my fandomversary, as it splits the difference between the first fic I read and the first fic I posted.
Please indulge me as I get sappy for a moment 😂
When I was about 10 or 11 I first read Philosopher's Stone and instantly hated it because it "couldn't happen in real life." I don't even know if I finished the book or not, but I vehemently vowed to never engage with Harry Potter ever again. And then in 2012 - at 16 - my family visited my cousins who were in the UK for the year, and my little cousin convinced me to read her a chapter of POS. After putting her to bed I went back and read the first chapter, and upon my return home I borrowed the books from the school library and devoured them.
For the last ten years I've been known as the "Harry Potter nerd" in every friendship group. I went from zero to 100 in half a second flat, and I've never looked back. But I truly believe that if it wasn't for my fandom family I wouldn't still be consuming HP-related media - and definitely not creating it. I have friends that I made ten years ago in fandom that I count as family, and I feel so blessed to be adding to that number every day.
This fandom has given me so much. In the last ten years I graduated highschool, completed my undergraduate degree, met and married my husband, moved across the country, and started my Masters. I have learned things about myself that I never dreamed of, and I credit most of that to this fandom.
Through it all, fandom has been my one constant. The one thing I knew would always be there waiting for me. And my fandom family has been there for my highest highs and lowest lows. I'm not going to try to list people because I know I'll miss some. But you know who you are. From the absolute bottom of my heart, thank you.
What I love most about this fandom is how we have been able to take something and truly reclaim it as our own. It was HP fic and art that gave me the words to explain that sometimes I just need to go nonverbal. It was HP fic and art that first introduced the word "asexual" to me. It was HP fic and art - and the wonderful, incredible, huge-hearted people who write it - that gave me the space I needed to explore my gender.
To my non-fandom friends and family, this all just looks like a hobby. But it's so so so much more than that, and I will never, ever be able to articulate the true impact fandom has had on me, nor will I ever be able to give back even a tiny fraction of what I have been given.
If you have been with me on this journey for ten years or ten minutes, thank you. You have quite genuinely changed my life.
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Blink and you'll miss it.
creaturesfromelsewhere 11-30-2022
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eesirachs · 2 years
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tissue and text. tissue and text. destroy the tablets god made before the golden calf and bodies bowing towards it. the prophets gaze at words on walls when god's palm has not even evaporated yet. everyone stares at the resurrected child, not seeing elisha panting, out of breath, having traced some kind of language across the floor.
god auto-incarnated once, and during that time wrote a single sentence, but we don't know what it was because we were watching his finger move through the dirt.
tissue appears text disappears. text appears tissue disappears
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dollfat · 2 years
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rewatching wwdits and i was wrong, nadja has shown interest in at least one woman: washerwoman gregor
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atlontour · 2 years
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source.
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