#but right now I am so freakin' tired

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 5: What They Call a Family

Summary: Something about watching Shifty in Clinchco makes Zenie look at him differently. It’s strange, to mix the two worlds. Personally, she doesn’t mind it.

A/N: Whelp, we survived the holiday weekend and tumblr finally allowed me to upload my moodboard. I hope y'all had a good holiday, and if yours was difficult, then I am once again sending you virtual hugs 💕For the curious, the title of this chapter is a reference to the opening line of Santa Fe in the original Newsies movie :)

Warnings: guns, racism, period-typical language in regards to race, mentions of improper chest binding

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @lieutenant-speirs

December, 1942

Despite the distance between the two, Clinchco is not much different from Zenie’s hometown. It’s got a different layout and more diversity. It’s in a different state. The town had a similar experience with the Depression in the thirties. The main source of income for most of the locals is the mining company that the town is named after instead of agriculture like at home. But nothing about it feels foreign. She’s a stranger here and is relying on the hospitality of her friend, and yet, she really does feel as if she’s coming home.

“That’s where I went to school,” Shifty explains as he tours her through the town. “Here’s the church my family goes to – Baptist, like most everyone else around here. I used to shine shoes on this corner. Best business, see, on Saturday afternoons.” Through it all, he saves the best for last. “And that is where I spent most of my free time.”

Clinchco’s woods are beautiful, deep, and cool, just like the ones back home. Even in winter, when most of the trees stand unclothed, their skeletal arms raised toward Heaven in worship, the steady heartbeat of life thrums through the place, giving it a different kind of beauty than the buds and flowers of the warmer months.

Shifty is in his element as he leads her through them, rifle slung over his shoulder and eyes on the branches above them, looking for any squirrels that might come scampering along. He tells her about the things his daddy taught him about listening and being prepared. It shouldn’t come as any sort of shock to Zenie that her friend grew up getting the same education from his father that she got from her grandmother as they foraged in the woods back in North Carolina. But somehow it still brings a kind of comfort – different from any that she’s felt before – to know that someone so similar to her exists, and that they’ve found each other.

Frying Pan really does have the best view, just like Shifty told her it would. Jacket collars pulled up to protect them against the winter wind, they stand at the top and survey the sprawl of mountains and hills and town from the precipice.

“Used to love comin’ up here with my daddy. Just to stand here and listen and try and use what he taught me.” He laughs, shakes his head. “And to flip coins in the air and shoot at ‘em. That way no one could complain, you know, about wasting money.”

“Probably a good thing you did it, though. The coins and the time with your dad, I mean. You’ll be more prepared than any of us when we get into combat.”

Shifty nods, forehead scrunched, just like it always does when he’s really thinking about something. “Kinda worries you, huh? Realizin’ that not everyone grew up learnin’ how to survive. Some of those guys never even held a gun before joinin’ up.”

“Well, if anyone is gonna survive, it’s you. I might know how to walk quietly and find food, but you’ve got eyes like a hawk and hearing to match.”

He laughs at first. Then he takes a step closer to her. “Close your eyes.”

“What?” He’s far too observant not to notice the way the breath hitches in her throat.

“Somethin’ my daddy taught me. Close your eyes.” When she does, she feels his gentle hands come up to cover them – no peeking allowed. A beat of silence passes, then another. Finally, he whispers, “What do you hear?”

Besides their quiet breathing, there isn’t much. A birdsong nearby that she doesn’t recognize. The gentle whistle and wheeze of the wind as it glides over the bare trees and rustles the leaves around their feet. If she really concentrates, she thinks she can hear the distant babbling and bubbling of a creek. She tells Shifty as much.

He’s smiling when he uncovers her eyes. “See, you’re good at this too, Tommy. Observation is a skill. One ya gotta keep sharp, or else you might get outta practice.” His voice holds a tone that she doesn’t recognize on the last sentence.

He stares out across the valley, so she does the same. She feels him glance at her. He opens his mouth, and she thinks that he might say something. Instead, he only lets out a breath, readjusts his rifle, and starts to walk back the way that they came.

“Mama is makin’ pie for dessert tonight. We don’t wanna be late for that.”

There’s probably some sort of rule or commandment or something that Zenie breaks every time that she thinks ill of her own family. She’s never liked her father, and she harbors some sort of disappointment towards her siblings, and those feelings never fail to make her feel downright bad. Sure, lots of people probably wish for a different family or a different life at some point – but watching Shifty and his family, she can’t help but feel downright jealous.

The Powers’ household is filled to the brim with love. A warm household is something so foreign that Zenie feels like she needs to tread carefully or risk shattering it. But the love is strong, and even if she does trip, it doesn’t seem like it would shatter or cause any serious damage.

Shifty’s two youngest siblings are like him in that they’re good natured and kindhearted. Frankie, his youngest brother, asks them lots of questions about the Airborne and talks about how he can’t wait to be old enough to join up. Gaynell, his sister catches them up on the small-town goings-on and ribs Shifty good naturedly. In turn he’ll tug at her hair as she passes by, but there’s no malice in any of it – just the way that siblings can tease each other about small things without anybody getting their feelings hurt.

Then there are his parents. His mama is a beautiful woman of Scotch-Irish and Cherokee descent who is positively tickled that Shifty managed to befriend someone like himself so far from home. She’s so excited that Zenie, Shifty, and Earl McClung have all become friendly with each other that Zenie finds herself hoping that they can all three return someday after the war just to visit her.

She also wants to know all about where Zenie is from. Zenie hates lying to Shifty, and she finds that she hates using half-truths on his mama even more.

“What’s your town like, Tommy?” she’s keen to know. “Is it a lot like here?”

Zenie can’t bring herself to tell her that Clinchco, even though she’s been here all of a few days, seems friendlier and more homelike than, well, home. She doesn’t tell Mrs. Powers about how Shifty and Earl – besides her own sister, obviously – are the only other part-Indians that she’s ever really gotten to know – the only people whose experiences she feels like she can relate to in some way. She doesn’t tell her about how the kids at her school would war-whoop at her and run from her on the playground, begging her not to scalp them if she caught them during tag. She doesn’t tell her that she ran away because she felt like the walls of her own home were suffocating her and she couldn’t stand the sight of the streets and buildings that she had known all her life.

Instead she smiles and says, “Yes ma’am, but I think Clinchco is a lot nicer” and accepts the slice of chocolate pie that she’s offered after dinner. Mrs. Powers makes the best pie in the entire world; if she lived in Zenie’s town, she would have put the diner out of business a long time ago.  

Shifty’s daddy is everything that a father should be – which is everything that Zenie’s own father is not. Mr. Powers is reserved, yet kind, and he has the same shy looking smile that Shifty does. He asks them lots of questions about their training and quietly tells them stories about fighting in the Great War long after everyone else has gone to bed. His laugh is loud and jolly, but he never raises his voice.

Something about watching Shifty in Clinchco makes Zenie look at him differently. It’s strange, to mix the two worlds. Personally, she doesn’t mind it.

Back in the woods, Shifty’s words about observation being a skill were right. Of course he meant being observant while on the hunt or in combat, but Zenie can’t help but use the skill on him. Because she’s always known that he’s reserved and kind, but she never realized that he was humble or a prankster until she saw him with his parents and siblings.

“How are you with a gun, Thomas?” Mr. Powers asks during dinner on one of their last nights in Virginia. “Darrel said in one of his letters that most of the men in your company had never used a gun before.”

“Well, I’m nothing compared to Shifty. None of us are.”

Shifty’s cheeks take on a pink hue, like a soft sunset. “Lots of the men are fine shots. Thomas is one of ‘em.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t make expert marksman, like somebody did.”

Mrs. Powers’ face lights up. “Expert marksman?”

“Only two men in the whole company earned that title, and he’s one of them.” If he won’t brag about himself, then Zenie is happy to do it for him. It’s a hell of an achievement, and he and his family all deserve to be proud of it.

“You never mentioned that in your letters,” his daddy beams. “Congratulations, son!” He claps Shifty on the shoulder, and although the expert marksman in question shakes his head, he can’t stop smiling. When his family is done hugging him and mussing up his hair, he shoots Zenie a wink as his mama insists on everyone taking a helping of banana pudding as part of the celebration, and she feels herself break into a grin almost as big as his.

They let Zenie have her own bedroom. It belonged to one of Shifty’s brothers before he joined up, and after all her time in the barracks with the rest of the company, lying alone in a bed is a welcome reprieve. She can relax, take off her bandages like Doc – or Gene, as he promises she can call him –  insists, and listen to the sounds of nature outside without fear of being found out every second.

It’s peaceful. A kind of peace that she’s never known, not even back in her own home in her own town. It would be nice, after the war, to return to Clinchco and enjoy it all again.

It’s in this peace that her mind wanders a little too far. If she had grown up here, or if Shifty was from her town, she wonders if they would have become friends. Of course then he would know her as Zenie instead of Tommy, but maybe that wouldn’t matter to him. Either way, they would have gone to school together, and he might have come to the diner after playing basketball with his friends and they could have palled around.

Granny would have loved him. They would have gotten along well. Shifty would have been welcome in their house while Granny was living with them. She would have smiled and looked the other way if he brought Zenie home late from wherever they’d been, and pretended not to notice if Shifty gave her a kiss goodbye at the door –

The thought is so sudden that she sits up in the bed. Besides the pale winter moonlight streaming into the room from the window, she’s alone. Yet somehow, she feels like she’s just been caught doing something completely and utterly wrong.

Why had she thought about Shifty kissing her? He’s her friend, just like Toye or Bill or Gene . . . None of those friends makes her feel giddy whenever they walk into a room, though. And even though she smiles at Luz and Bill when they make stupid jokes, she doesn’t smile in spite of herself if she catches one of them glancing at her like she does with Shifty.

All the feelings that she’s been ignoring or writing off wash over her then like a flood that’s trying to drown her. She’s only felt this way about a boy once. Elijah Woodard, back home before the war. He had not reciprocated, and Zenie found it hard to consider romance with any boy since then.

But now those feelings are back. Now they’re about one of the men that she’s become closest to since joining the Airborne.

And there’s nothing that she can do about them.  

#no proof reading we die like men 🫡 #if there's mistakes I'll catch them later #but right now I am so freakin' tired #it's a problem for future me #band of brothers fanfic #shifty powers #shifty powers x original female character #shifty powers x ofc #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #oc zenie mcglamery #my writing

[betweenlands]

It takes exactly two seconds between Impulse looking up at the top of the Secret Keeper and him realizing what he's actually seeing up there to decide he is officially sick and tired of seeing ghosts.

There are seven entire ghosts around the thing today -- a couple appear to be tinkering with the secret delivery mechanisms. Impulse squints at them.

"What are you doing?" he says.

"Trying to figure out how to load more tasks into this thing," one of them replies, kicking one of the blocks with buttons on them. He's got a full beard and some weird green glowing mushrooms poking out of cracks in his face. It's definitely... a look, Impulse will give him that. Very Mycelium Resistance. "But whoever designed it used freakin' command blocks, and you can't even see the randomizer run."

"How many times did your randomizer break again?" one of the other ghosts calls from up on top of the Secret Keeper.

"Never!" the mushroom ghost protests, causing at least two other ghosts to crack up laughing. "It worked completely flawlessly except for user error."

One of the ghosts, someone who appears to have a floating cactus block for a head, snorts. "And programmer error."

"You shut it," the mushroom ghost responds.

"He's not wrong," the more normal-looking brown-haired ghost over by the command blocks says absently, purple eyes clearly focused on trying to trace the wiring back to the actual command blocks.

Impulse just stands there, bewildered -- both because the ghosts are actually talking to him, and also because these are extremely weird ghosts to be talking to who look nothing like anyone he's even vaguely heard of.

"Fine," he says, "you know what, I'll bite. Why are you guys here?"

"Checking in," a ghost sitting on one of the lower rocks says. He's wearing blue and yellow, looks to be a little more transparent than the others. "Y'know, new season and all that?"

Impulse squints at him. "No, I meant, why are you following me?"

"Ohhhh!" The ghost laughs. "Hadn't looked into what you were doing yet, and these guys wanted to see if they could get some of their tasks into the machine, so I just brought everyone along."

"That's not really a good answer," a ghost leaning inside the alcove under the Secret Keeper says. He's got a mask pulled up over his face, though his voice doesn't really sound muffled at all.

"What," the blue and yellow ghost says, "am I supposed to say something like it's because you're one of the people with no hard-and-fast thematic associations to stick to and therefore easier to facilitate a meeting with and freak him out more?"

Impulse squints harder. "Are you guys Watchers?"

The blue-and-yellow ghost snorts. "Hah! That's Martyn's lore, bud, not yours. Nope, nothing to do with the Watchers."

"Aren't you technically--" the ghost in the alcove starts.

"Tsssssshhhhhh," the other ghost replies by way of shushing him aggressively, "spoilers!"

"Alright," the alcove ghost says, spreading his hands in mock defeat, "fine, have it your way. He's right though. Not Watchers."

"Lowercase-w maybe," the brown-haired ghost still inspecting the redstone with the mushroom ghost says, "but otherwise, no."

Impulse is starting to feel like he's wandered into something way above his pay grade.

The alcove ghost snaps his fingers. Impulse notes somewhat absent-mindedly that he has, like, a lot of piercings on one ear. "Hey," he says, "come to think of it, we might be able to help you out with some stuff."

"I swear to God," another ghost says from on top of the Secret Keeper, "if you try to sell another person on your weird coffee god thing again-"

"I wasn't going to!" he responds. "Honest! I was just gonna say, it looks like there's a plains biome here, that means oxeye daisies, that means suspicious stew with regen if you can get a good source of mushrooms."

"Unfortunately," the mushroom ghost says, looking up from where he and the other ghost appear to now be trying to cram books into the ground, "the space for the hearts seems like it just kinda vanishes when people get hit. At least, if I'm not misunderstanding the programming."

"If you're misunderstanding the programming then we're both reading this code wrong," the brown-haired ghost says. "And I'm pretty sure I used something similar here for Dark Path stuff, so probably not?"

"Dang," the alcove ghost says, then tilts his head back towards Impulse. "Maybe make splash poison potions, then? That'll take out a good chunk of someone's health if they can't regen."

"He is green," the cactus-headed ghost says. "Why's he gotta make poison potions right now?"

A shrug in response. "Never hurts to prep early."

The blue-and-yellow ghost leans forward, squinting at him. "Alright," he says, "one of my wisps give you that idea or what?"

Another shrug. "I mean, what if they did?"

"Last time you started listening to his wisps," the brown-haired ghost says, "they told you to try and kill everyone just because I beefed it before the dragon fight."

"It would've worked if you hadn't warned them," the ghost in the alcove replies. "I can't believe you tried to sabotage my attempt at avenging you."

"I can't believe you listened to them in the first place," the blue-and-yellow ghost says. "They're bloodthirsty, they don't really give good advice."

"And I," Impulse says, having inched his way over towards the new task button, "am going to take my task and leave, because you guys are weird."

He hits the button and flips through the taskbook.

"End every sentence said to another player in a question?" he says, squinting down at it.

"You're already doing better than some of us were!" one of the ghosts on top of the Secret Keeper yells down.

"Oh my god, shut up!" the mushroom ghost yells back, and then turns to Impulse. "Hey, by the way, have you considered getting a pet parrot?"

"That's still a bad loophole and you know it," the blue-and-yellow ghost cuts in.

"I heard him just fine," the brown-haired ghost says. "Hey, hang on -- that's one of ours! It worked!"

Impulse decides he's not even going to bother trying to be polite about leaving. He has had entirely enough of these ghosts in particular.

#secret life #secret life smp #impulsesv #gilded hardcore #vikingpilot #this minific brought to you by: gilded is good go watch it #unlike last impulse fic i will not bother with a pretense of it being symbolism. this one is fully because it is funny to me #there's SOME stuff in there if you squint but it doesn't actually have anything to do with impulse #anyway sorting tags time: #yt #txt #solar scraps #solar scrawls #slsmp #gilded #you may have noticed i tagged the blue and yellow ghost. this is because i fear no man. or pronoun stealer for that matter #oh dunk wait i should also tag the others #devonsdesk #thefoolnse #avidmc #and then whimzee and trog are in the background (sorry guys i didn't have the voices down yet) #oh and fun fact about this one. the identity of one of these ghosts is Really Questionable #like just a little bit... it could be him acting weird or it could be something else entirely yknow? something more aware of certain things #but ehhhhhhhhhhhnnnn that's spoilers so who am i to blow up its spot #update josh got a new username so #codeneon

[funky-astrologer]

The Yod Aspect

“finger of god”

This is a response to a post I was tagged in asking about this particular aspect formation, and is quite long, I have highlighted the most important parts.

Commonly known as the "finger of god" aspect, this particular aspect is traditionally formed when two planets form a sextile to one another and then each a quincunx to a third planet.

In this case Chiron in Scorpio at 16 degrees in the 6th house, sextile the North Node in Virgo at 13 degrees in the 4th house, with both of them forming a quincunx to Saturn in Aries at 14 degrees in the 11th house.

Consider first the nature of the two aspects -- a sextile is seen as easy, yet it doesn't always manifest itself simply because it is too easy. It is subtle and not prone to going out of its way to make a statement or leave an imprint. The quincunx on the other hand -- a 150-degree aspect combining two energies that seemingly have very little in common seeks to remedy this by presenting these energies together anyway.

For example, Aries and Virgo or Aries and Scorpio.

*Consider opposite signs (Aries & Libra) and look to the two conjoining signs of each one to find a quincunx sign for the other.

A quincunx is uncomfy, plain and simple. It is strain and burdensome when you don't realize what is happening. I have my Mars and Pluto quincunx and I do not like it very much at times. It causes me to overwork myself to the point of no avail almost. The answer is usually do nothing and wait for something. Doesn't mean you shouldn't make any effort at all, but rather the effort will show up at some point anyway whether you are consciously aware or not. Be patient and reserve your energy with the quincunx.

Chiron and North Node are two energies concerned with growth and evolution. They are about learning from experience, whereas Saturn is about building upon that experience. Any efforts made in the areas of life governing the 4th, 6th and 11th house will be brought into unique manifestation in the house of Saturn--which is the 11th house here, and a very prominent house for manifestation. These efforts may come in a most simple way through the 4th and 6th (these freakin' sextiles am I right?), yet will not manifest in a way that can be engineered or made to happen like many manifestations stories would have you think.

The sextile provides an easier time helping things along, but the involvement with the quincunx--and by default, the yod aspect, indicates that no mater how simple things can be--they are not always intended to be that way.

Being intentional is so important, it is so simple yet so profound. @Plantop-14 This yod aspect requires you to be intentional in your manifestations. Sure, some of them may be simple and you can have really beneficial results and benefits--but that isn't really the point nor the gift of this aspect.

Imagine a seesaw, okay now imagine two people on one side and one person on the other side. Whatever happens--all are involved. The two on the same side--are on the same side. They are literally working in tandem. The third person on the other side is the one who may be left feeling the most frustrated--this person represented by Saturn. It may be tiring at times and frustrating to keep going, and keep making an effort--but that is the point. Make the effort, and be intentional, don't try to make things easy just because you can. Otherwise, this third person is gonna be like f*ck you guys--I'll do whatever I want. Then what? Well then the sextile is no longer working in tandem--it isn't working at all. And things that should be easy, will in fact be harder. By being intentional about life plans, goals and making a genuine effort at things that come easy, you grow in a way that Saturn respects, and when you gain the respect of Saturn--through work and persistence, you will be rewarded with the "finger of god" in all your endeavors.

I hope this makes sense, and I hope it helps a bit. I wanted to go into specifics, but I'll save that for another time. The yod is powerful and carries potential meant to be utilized intentionally as if you were the god of these planets and energies.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading! I welcome feedback, @plantop-14 thank you for reaching out and tagging me. <3

@astrolovecosmoscosmos @astrroloaries @crystalsenergy @elysiansparadise @exalted222 @gg-astrology @helianthus-tarot

@hausofneptune @harmoonix @kms-astro

@katiifaetarot @kalki-tarot @libbee @leoascendente @moonseyeastrology @mercurianchild @nymphia-tarot @nayatarot777 @neptunes-sol-angel @occultic-luna @p1utofairy @psychelis-new @rxmxa @rebeltarot @saylessastrology @theoccultz @witchthewriter @youthnighttarot

Your friendly, funky-astrologer -S.

#astrology #yod #yod aspect #finger of god #aries #virgo #scorpio #4th house #6th house #11th house #manifestation #sextile

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 9 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here)

Steve POV continued

“Sorry.” Lying in his bunk in the gloomy cabin, Steve drags his fingers miserably across his eyes. How freakin’ embarrassing—mistaking his best friend for his parents. “Still dreaming, I guess.”

“How do you feel?” asks Robin.

“Oh, peachy! How d’ya think?” He’s beyond tired of feeling this crappy. What the hell happened this time?

Oh yes. He and Eddie kissed, and then…

“Okay, bad news first,” she says, perching on the bed. “You bled through your bandages again. Got all sweaty and yuck.” He knows this already—from the gnaw in his side, and how he’s sticking to the lumpy mattress. “Good news? The bleeding stopped. The really juicy news—we have a theory about what might fix you.”

She spouts a load of stuff about the water from Lover’s Lake giving him some kind of vaguely defined power. And Eddie sucking it out of him?

He snickers. “Did you get that crackpot theory out of the ‘The Weekly Watcher?’”

“Come on, Steve, this is way beyond a shot-in-the-dark.” He rolls his eyes. Even though he sort of agrees with her. “We need to test the theory. Eddie’s gone to fetch lake water.”

“He’s gone back to Hawkins? Is he out of his mind?” He can’t spare the energy to worry about Eddie. He still does, and it makes him feel worse.

“You all right?” asks Robin. “You’ve gone… kinda gray.”

Yeah, feeling kinda gray. He stops scowling, simply because it’s too much effort. “Is there any non-Fairyland water in this shit-hole?”

“There’s a pump.”

After he’s had a drink and splashed his face, he feels… not much better, actually. He slumps back onto the pillow with a hard sigh. “Robin, I wish it was just us, stuck in this together. You're literally the only person in my life where there’s, like, almost zero tension. I mean, we bitch at each other and all—”

“Never!” she snarks.

“Haha, point taken. It’s about nothing that ever matters, though. I know.... You'll... You know, we’ll…”

“Always be there for each other? I sure hope so.” There’s a quiver in her voice that alarms him.

“You still think one of us might not make it this time?”

“No! I mean... We've gotten through that part, haven't we?”

Sure doesn’t feel like it from here. 

“Listen,” she says, “it doesn’t have to be tense or cringy between you and Eddie, just because you like each other.”

“Yeah, right. We kissed. I passed out! Not cool.”

“Like he’s gonna hold that against you.” She squeezes his arm. He stares at her chipped nail polish, battling a fresh assault from his candy-ass emotions. “As per ever, dates keep belly-flopping into your lap! When we get through this, I swear I'm gonna slap you for—”

An owl hoot interrupts her. She scuttles to the window, crouches down and peeps out. “It’s okay,” she hisses, “It’s Eddie.”

“Your signal is an owl noise? It’s the middle of the goddamn day! Why don’t you wait till dark and send up fireworks?”

Steve grumbles for the sake of it. On the other hand, he wasn’t lying to Robin. He really doesn’t want to handle Eddie right now. He turns his face to the pillow, muffles his ears with the blanket. Someone prods him. “Steve,” says Robin. “We’ve got the lake water.”

He rolls over. Eddie’s there, brandishing a plastic bottle of clouded liquid. He fixes on Robin. “You want me to drink that shit?”

“Not unless you want to die of what half the soldiers in the Civil War did,” says Robin.

Steve shares a moment of bafflement with Eddie. “How am I gonna get shot drinking lake water?”

“They died of dysentery, Dingus! You literally did nothing in history other than crack moronic jokes and eat breakfast, did you?”

“Whatever,” mumbles Steve. He’s not sure what dysentery is. Sounds sucky. “What are we supposed to do with it, super-brain?”

“Erm, try pouring it.” Robin peels off the freshly bloodied bandages from Steve’s side, grimacing as dramatically as ever. “To be fair, this is disgusting and almost as risky. If nothing good happens, though, we can wipe it off. Yay!”

She drips on the water. For a split second, it’s ice-cold, and he hisses. “Ow… Jesus, Robin!”  

“Sorry.”

“Nothing’s happening,” he says. “Oh, hold on. Gnnng, no, no, no, no, no!” 

Steve’s flesh and blood blend into pink froth, sizzling like he’s been doused in boiling chip fat. Robin jolts backward; Steve whimpers, helpless to stop himself. Eddie, meanwhile, grabs Steve’s hand, as the unbearable scalding subsides into a strong but tolerable itch. Steve inhales raggedly, lifts his head to confirm that the bat bites have knitted again, leaving a wet mess of red puckered marks and scars.

“I guess that could’ve gone worse.” Eddie sounds spooked.

“Could’ve gone worse? It hurt like… What just happened? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?” Steve’s got a crazy urge to scream… no… run! Pushing himself up onto his elbows takes everything he’s got. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“Ssssh, it’s okay.” Robin’s now gotten her arms around him, and Eddie’s still holding his hand. “This proves that it’s the water. You’re not flayed, or Vecnad, or Henryd or whatever. Eddie and I discussed it and—”

“What!?!” Steve wriggles free and laughs, because this is hysterical. “You discussed that without including me?”

“We never believed you’d been taken by the dark side,” says Robin, her hand on her breast. “I swear!”

“That’s not the… Ow!”

“Does it still hurt?” asks Robin.

Steve stares daggers at Eddie: “Can you quit crushing my fingers already?”

“Sorry.” Eddie drops Steve’s hand, a little too keenly—leaving Steve oddly desolate, despite his request. Other than that, he does feel better.

And grouchier than ever.

Half an hour later, he’s well enough to get up. He washes himself down at the pump, attempts to salvage his hair, then joins the others in preparing a baked-bean and banana supper. He argues forcefully that both parts can be served together, and it will taste awesome.

Which they do.

Ignoring Robin’s advice, he sips a bottle of bad beer. Eddie is clad in a clean Hellfire Club t-shirt—given to him by Henderson—and regales them with news from Hawkins. This proves depressing, given that Eleven and Hopper are now outlaws too. Then they chat about what hiding places they might move onto next.

“We’re not quite as remote as we thought here,” says Robin. “I found a track that leads pretty close, and you could probably get an off-roader all the way to the camp.” She glances at Steve. “We need somewhere really tucked away, and maybe closer to Lover’s Lake, right?”

“Why are you asking me?” he snaps. “You two seem to have all the answers. I haven’t a clue.”

Steve crawls into his bunk first. For once, sleep doesn’t clobber him instantly. Despite what he said to Robin, he has got theories—stupid though they seem—about the lake, and that time he nearly drowned in it.

He should’ve been terrified of swimming after that. He never was. Plus, he’s been dreaming about that period of his life lately. Dreaming about it a LOT, now he thinks about it.

After a while, he gets sick of his churning thoughts and sits up. Moonlight streaks through one of the high bunk room windows, revealing that Eddie is awake too, cross-legged on the floor. He’s muttering to himself, fiddling with his hair, then his hands. 

On spotting Steve staring at him, he presses a finger to his lips, picks up a flashlight, and motions toward the door. Steve pulls on a sweater and follows him outside. It’s a dry night. Banks of bruise-brown clouds semi-obscure a near full moon and a few hazy stars. It’s cool too, though Steve’s palms are getting clammy.

He tracks Eddie into a nearby cabin, filled with a ton of old rope and lumber-hauling equipment. He then remembers he’s annoyed, and folds his arms.

“Totally love how you two went behind my back and discussed whether I was flayed or not.”

Eddie plonks down the flashlight. “Kinda obvious that we had to. We didn’t tell you, because we didn’t want to stress you out, and… honestly? We never bought it. Dustin was highly sceptical—”

“You discussed me with Henderson too? That’s great!” Steve plants his hands on his hips, growing too hot and bothered to think straight: “Maybe you’re ALL idiots. Maybe I am somehow flayed! Right at the start, that Upside Down thing came through my pool. Possibly. To take Barb. Now the water from near a gate fixes me and—“

“And I make you fix me!” Eddie’s preening grin is vicious. “Perhaps I’m the source of the magical shitstorm? Did that ever cross your egotistical rich-brat mind, Harrington?”

Eddie might as well have punched him. Steve’s still reeling from the blow, when Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose:

“Look, I’m sorry, man,” mutters Eddie. “I’m pretty stressed, too. Dustin was telling me about how you got sick whenever you left Hawkins as a kid, and—"

“Wow! Good job I’m an EGOTISTICAL BRAT, because I really am a hot topic! Did Nance reel off an article for the Hawkins Post?”

“Uh, Steve?” Eddie takes a step closer then abruptly pulls short. “I apologised, okay? Why exactly are we arguing about this?”

“I… Oh Christ, Eddie, I honestly don’t know.”

Steve’s shoulders slump. How excruciatingly typical! That little egg-head Dustin had a hunch about something that’s only just occurring to Steve, and which… Shit, the whispers in his mind are scary.

This is where you come clean, Harrington. This is where you say: "I almost drowned in that lake in 1978. What if it wasn't 'almost?' What if I died back then, at eleven years old. What if something or someone in that water brought me back, and for good or evil, it's still got a hold of me?"

Does it make any sense? Would Eddie simply think him egotistical again, or stupid? Suddenly, all he wants is to forget the whole wide world, especially the freaky parts. Everything apart from… 

…Eddie.

Who is hunching awkwardly away from Steve, palpably scared to get too near, let alone touch him. The naked longing in those gorgeous brown eyes, however, is reassuring. 

“Look, I'm sorry too.” Steve licks dry lips. “I’ve been a complete asshole today, I know. It’s just… What happened when we kissed is so humiliating.”

“Why? It’s not your fault. Believe me, Stevie, I’d kiss you again in a heartbeat, if it wasn’t for… uh…”

Eddie’s adorable blushes and the silly pet name are invitation enough. Steve closes the gap between them, leans in and whispers:

“You win. Maybe we shouldn’t kiss again till we’ve figured out exactly what’s going on, but… C’mon, man, you’ve touched me plenty without any bad repercussions. I slept in your lap.” We freakin’ spooned! “There’s gotta be something fun we can do.” 

Eddie shakes his head, squirming hilariously. “You take a turn for the worse, papa bear will rip my guts out.”

“What are you talking ab… Oh, Robin? Seriously?”

“Look, I really don’t want to hurt you.”  Steve’s chest pangs, because this could be a brush off. 

Or it might not be.

“C’mon, Munson. Promise I’m not gonna break.” At that, a dirty little smile plays on Eddie’s mouth, which sends sparks through Steve’s veins. “What you thinking?”

The smile evolves into a filthy laugh. “All right, before you get out the thumb-screws—I used to have this fantasy about you. It’s totally messed-up, kinda kinky. I wouldn’t expect you to be up for it, even if we didn’t have our current, uh, issues.”

“Oh!” To be fair, Eddie is right. Steve has never been into kinky shit. That said, before this guy hijacked his heart, he’s never salivated at the mere thought of tattoos. “Um, try me?”

Eddie husks his little scenario into Steve’s ear, and Steve decides he’s totally game. 

“It’s a kook-ball daydream,” says Eddie. “We shouldn’t really—"

“You wanna tie me up, Munson? We got plenty of rope a night to kill.” He slinks his arms up and under Eddie’s t-shirt. “Let’s do this.”

Part 10

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve & robin #stobin friendship #platonic stobin #stobin fic #steve and robin #steddie fanfiction #steve and eddie

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 8! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Mentions of sex. Nudity. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: PG-13 (ish?) (but other parts are very NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 4994

A/N: Our Reader is feeling it, y'all! I am, too! Getting into the right headspace for this part was tricky for whatever reason, and it's a bit long, so thanks for your patience. I wanted to get a bit more backstory in there, so hopefully the flashback scene works well. And a little Young!Elvis doesn't hurt anyone, right? I also couldn't help myself and HAD to include the detail about his stutter because I just keep finding all these deliciously real and human parts of him that make him such a rich, full person/character, so forgive me my indulgence!

To all the babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments mean the absolute WORLD to me. Finding out that some of y'all are liking it enough to be reading it MULTIPLE times blows my freakin' mind. Like whaat?! This story (and EP) has taken over my heart and soul, so for those of you still with me, and to all the newcomers, I'm sending you all the love! And I promise there's more good stuff coming ahead, complete with more smut, angst, and tension.

I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks since now I know how they work lol)! I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

1957

“So, I hear you’re gonna make an honest man out of our Jacky Boy.”

You look up from your seated spot on the cool grass, Elvis’ tall frame lording over you in the dark of this humid midsummer night and you smile.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you blush happily, playing with the small, simple diamond that now adorns the ring finger of your left hand. It’s not much, but it’s yours. You can barely stop staring at it, you are so excited.

Elvis folds himself down next to you on the lawn, his long limbs a little less lanky than they used to be. A couple of years of being well-fed after a lifetime of poverty has done him well. He looks good, albeit tired. Hollywood and fame have certainly made him more beautiful, his resting face now always looking like it’s ready for a close-up, but the lightness that used to surround him is a little heavier, a little darker now, like he has the world resting on his shoulders.

He turns his head to really look at you, taking you in. It’s a look that might’ve made you self-conscious at any other time, but it’s dark and you’re too distracted by your engagement ring to really notice. “You happy, doll?” he asks, but answers it himself, “You look happy.”

You can’t stop smiling. “Yes, I’m most certainly happy,” you reassure him.

“Good,” he nods as if this has satisfied him in some way. Then he leans back, laying down in the grass, and stares up at the stars. That look comes over him again, the heavy one. It worries you a little. He’s been gone so much lately, and things have been moving so quickly for him, you’ve barely had a moment to talk in what feels like forever.

“How ‘bout you, E, are you happy?” you ask quietly, looking down at him.

He is silent at first, and you almost don’t catch the sigh he lets out before speaking, “I ain’t got nothing to be unhappy about, baby. All my dreams are coming true.” He says it almost as though he’s trying to convince himself of it. He doesn’t look at you, instead focusing all his attention on the sky.

“You didn’t really answer the question,” you say gently.

He finally looks over at you, those big blue eyes of his exhausted, rimmed with dark circles. “It’s all been moving so fast, I barely got time to catch my breath. I’m constantly around people, but sometimes I feel so lonely, y/n…and Hollywood ain’t all it’s cracked up to b-be,” he says quickly, but in a whisper, as though he’s terrified to be overheard.

You open your mouth to speak, but he rushes to continue: “And I don’t w-w-wanna seem ungrateful or nothin’ b-b-b-because I-I-I am gettin’ to do what I love to do and I’m supportin’ my family and it makes lots of folks happy, and God’s b-b-blessed me with that…b-b-but so many people hate me, makin’ it their mission to misunderstand me and they don’t even know me.” He takes a deep shuddering breath, frustrated and trying to get the words out.

You know he’s emotional and tired because his stutter keeps getting in his way as he tries to speak. Most people don’t even know he has one because it doesn’t happen when he sings, and he sure as hell doesn’t let it stop him from doing what he wants to do, but you’ve heard it pop up now and again in conversation over the years, usually with nerves or when he’s “excited,” as he calls it. He told you how he thought he’d blown his initial screen test in Hollywood because of it, because he was so nervous that he couldn’t get the words to come out like he needed them to. Luckily, he said the director liked it and even said it made his acting seem more genuine. You find it endearing because it’s a very real part of him and his humanity, which you think is something much needed when the world is striving to make him a commodity. It still makes him a little self-conscious, though, so you don’t rush him or react, you just wait for him to continue.

 “Sometimes I-I feel like I’m b-b-being pulled in a dozen different directions, all at o-once. I-I-I constantly feel like I’m tryin’ to prove myself. Sometimes it just gets to me, is all. So, to answer your question, yes, I am happy, but it sure comes with a price,” he pauses. “I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t’ve unloaded on you like that, today of all days,” he says, eyes now downcast and concerned.

“Don’t you feel sorry. I asked, and I’m glad you answered me truthfully. Seems like you needed to get that off your chest,” you say kindly, with a small smile. You hate to see him so weighed down. But you are pleased and surprised by him being so vulnerable with you. It makes you feel like you’ve got your friend back.

“You won’t go tellin’ no one, will ‘ya? Not even Jack,” he pleads, looking at you wide-eyed.

“Of course not, Elvis. I swear it,” you say seriously. You wouldn’t dream of betraying his trust.

He nods, relieved, and looks back up at the stars.

“I’m real proud of you, E, all of us are. It takes a special person to do what you do with the grace you do it with. God knows I couldn’t do it,” you say, suddenly feeling a little shy.

Elvis looks at you with surprise. “Thanks, y/n, that means a lot comin’ from you,” he says and the way his pretty eyes search your face sends a strange feeling through your body.

You don’t know what to say to that, so silence sits heavy, but not uncomfortably, between you.

Playing with your engagement ring, knees pulled into your chest, you look into the night sky.

“How’d ya know? That Jack’s the one?” he suddenly asks, out of nowhere.

The question both surprises and delights you. “Hmmm, well, let’s see,” you ponder. “He’s there when I need him. He makes me feel special, like the only girl in the world. I know he’ll always take care of me. He is mine and I am his. Sometimes I almost feel like we were made for each other, ya’ know, like we were meant to be,” you rattle off. “That may seem silly and saccharine and hopelessly romantic, but it’s true. So, I suppose that’s how I know I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him,” you say, a giddy excitement running through you.

Elvis is quiet, his face unreadable. You’re not sure why, but you feel like you’ve said something to upset him.

“Why? You got a special girl or three, Mr. Presley?” you ask, in a faux-reporter voice, holding a pretend mic to his mouth to try and lighten the mood.

“Ha!” he scoffs with a laugh and a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, it must be so hard for you, to have thousands of beautiful girls to choose from, all clamoring for a piece of you,” you tease. You know he is dating quite a bit because he brings some of them home, whether from Hollywood or somewhere on the road. He always seems to be falling hard and fast for a new girl, but they never seem to last.

“No, there’s no one special I’m datin’,” he says, sitting up, intently playing with a blade of grass. “I mean, I’m seein’ lots of nice girls, great girls, even. It’s just…none of them’s the one.”

You are a little taken aback by his honest answer. “Well, you can’t force it, E. You’ll know when it’s right,” you say, patting his hand.

Elvis looks down sharply at your hand on his, almost like it’s burned him. “Yeah, I reckon I will,” he says, looking back up at you, his face unreadable once more. He’s gotten too good at that in Hollywood, you think, shutting the vulnerable parts of himself off from an untrustworthy world.

For the second time this night, silence hangs over you. This time it feels charged, but by what you do not know. You can’t figure out what’s going on with him.

“You gettin’ enough sleep, E?” His moodiness has always been worse when he’s tired.

“Oh, you know me, doll. I was barely sleeping before all this and now I sleep even less,” he replies. “There’s too much to do and I got all this-this crazy energy, ya know?” He wiggles his limbs, exaggerating. You can’t help but laugh.

But your laughter dies out quickly. “Seriously, Elvis, promise me you’ll at least try to get some rest while you’re home. It worries me to think you’re running yourself ragged.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything, as if he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t keep. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject.

“C-c-congratulations, y/n. Jack’s a lucky guy and I-I’m glad you’re happy. You—you both—deserve all the happiness,” Elvis says, his gaze kind but guarded. Then, unexpectedly, he leans over and presses his lips softly to your cheek. They are warm and plush against your skin, lingering there for just a moment too long. Your breath catches and you can feel heat blossom through your body and into your cheeks in a way that surprises you.

Then, just like that, he pulls away, getting up and brushing himself off, like nothing happened. He holds his hand out to you to help you up off the ground. “We should get back,” he says.

You blink rapidly, trying to process the last few moments. You are glad the darkness hides the red on your cheeks. Elvis seems unaffected, so you take his hand and let him help you up. You chalk whatever strangeness that has happened up to Elvis being exhausted, pushing whatever silly, fleeting thoughts you have far, far away.

*

The long-buried memory hits you hard as you stand at the door to Elvis’ bedroom, poised to knock. You’ve spent all night in anticipation of this moment, excited and nervous about whatever comes next, but this memory shakes you, knocking something loose in your brain. Something you had forgotten until just now.

You are trying to grasp it, the thing that is niggling at the corners of your mind, but before you can lock on to whatever it is, the door swings open, startling you. You didn’t remember knocking—it’s like Elvis just knew you were there.

And immediately everything else is forgotten because the tantalizing smell of him wafts over you, and your heart starts to pitter patter in your chest because he’s just so beautiful, and the brilliance of his light blue, dark-rimmed eyes nearly knocks you over.

Elvis pulls you in to the room quickly, trying to avoid any possible prying eyes, shutting the door quietly. The light is much dimmer in here and it’s silent, save for the sound of your breathing. He is so, so close, his eyes travelling over your body approvingly. His eyes ignite flames within you wherever they linger.

“I knew you’d be a showstopper in this, baby. And the tan is a nice touch,” he says, smiling coyly, running a finger down your bare arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

Words get lost in your throat because all you know is that you need him. So instead of words, you grasp his face and kiss him as if your life depends on it. You sense his surprise at your boldness in the way he tenses at first, but it takes only a second before his arms wrap around you, and those soft, pliant lips open to yours.

But the butterflies happening in your stomach now are different than the heat you’ve experienced when kissing him before and that surprises you. Scares you, even, because the heat and the sex make a certain kind of sense. It’s biological, you think, natural to be drawn to him. Everyone is drawn to him. What you’ve already shared physically, what he is teaching you about pleasure, is addicting—you want more. Of course, you do. But what’s happening to you now is more than that, as much as you want to push it away and deny it.

You pull back from him slowly, his lips chasing yours with another gentle kiss. Your eyes raise, meeting the endless blue of his, and you are caught there, drowning, as you try to understand the man he is now. You can’t help but think that these are the same eyes that looked upon you on the lawn of Graceland so many years ago. Reconciling that Elvis with this Elvis feels so utterly strange. So much life has happened between then and now, yet under it all, you can still see that sensitive young man, striving and eager for everything life has to offer.

“Well, hello to you, too, honey,” he says softly, searching your face, trying to gauge what is going on with you.

“Hi,” you breathe out, “I missed you.” It just falls out of your mouth, a truth you aren’t sure you should reveal, but it’s too late now. It feels silly—you saw him less than 24 hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime.

This pleases him, his mouth turning up in a small smile. “I missed you, too,” he replies, giving you another soft kiss.

This invokes your own smile, a shy one. Your stomach continues to flutter like a schoolgirl’s.

He pulls you into the room, your hand small in his, the Vegas skyline bright outside the huge windows. To think, just a few nights ago, you stood in this very spot, furious and ripping him a new one for ruining your life. Feels like a million years ago now.

Elvis is barefoot, wearing a set of satiny deep blue pajamas, which somehow, even though they are sleepwear, still flatter him. You suddenly feel quite overdressed. You’re not sure what he has in store for you because his countenance doesn’t quite match the sexual fire from when he dominated you on the couch and sent you to the stars last night, but he is somehow no less intense.

His fingers brush through the pink fringe of your top, feathering over the bare skin of your back as he moves around you to a box on top of the piano. Curious, you move with him, stopping as he lifts out a slip of a nightgown that matches his pajamas exactly. Your eyebrow quirks.

Setting it back down, he glides towards you, wrapping his arms around your back. “Let’s get you more comfortable,” he says, unzipping your top slowly, removing it, throwing it to the side. You shiver under his gaze, exposed in the lacy petal pink bra he bought you. He looks delighted that you are wearing it, though his gaze is still light and controlled, even though he is undressing you.

“Shoes,” he tuts, and you slip out of your heels, kicking them to the side. Your eagerness builds, the fluttering in your stomach wild and catching fire, but you let him guide you, as he seems wont to do.

He reaches around and unzips your skirt, pulling it gently over your hips and it falls in a heap at your feet. He hums and looks over you approvingly in your matching underwear, and the look alone has you weak in the knees. It’s criminal how handsome he is and what it does to you. Based on your previous encounters, you half expect him to take you right there, but he makes no move to do so. Your breath is shallow, your body on alert, waiting on pins and needles.

Next, moves in close, his fingers brushing up your spine. A shudder courses through you. He unhooks your bra, sliding it off you and placing it on top of the piano. You think for sure he will now devour you, but he waits.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Elvis whispers, taking in your figure and you suddenly feel shy under his adoring gaze. You resist the urge to cover yourself, your nipples standing at attention in the cool air. He doesn’t touch you (you desperately want him to), though you can see by the smoldering in his eyes he wants to, too. Instead, he hands you the nightie. “Put it on,” he requests, and while you are confused, you do as he asks. The expensive, silky softness drapes over you, hanging perfectly off your frame.

Nodding as though some requirement that is unknown to you has been fulfilled, he pulls you into him, kissing your forehead. His embrace is warm and comforting against the cold of the air conditioning and you wind your arms around his neck, fingers weaving into his fine hair. While there is heat growing in your belly for him, it is like glowing embers rather than an engulfing flame.

This feels different. And then you realize, it all feels so domestic.

The thought is jarring, yet not unwanted. You had assumed (rightly so) that he wanted you here so you could fuck all night long. But this, this is a decidedly different vibe to your uninterrupted night together. And while you are a bit confused and surprised by it, you are curious.

“Elvis,” you say quietly, without expectation, “what is this?”

A boyish grin spreads across his face, reminding you of the memory that blindsided you before, the one you still need to dissect. “I want all of you, not just a part of you,” he says, nuzzling your nose with his. It sends tingles down your arms. You’re not quite sure exactly what it means, but you get the gist that he wants more than sex from you and that is surprising.

Is it, though?

He pulls you up and onto the huge bed with him. You lean back against the pillows, the ornate headboard, and he turns to you, brushing flyaway hairs off your face. His crystalline eyes have an openness you haven’t seen in a long time, as though all the glitz and glamour of “Elvis” is stripped away and it’s truly just the man here in front of you.

“How was your day?” he asks.

It’s such a simple question, yet the fact that he asks it of you almost has you in tears. Perhaps it’s because until this moment you haven’t realized that it feels like no one has asked you that, or truly cared to, in a very long time. And the fact that it is coming from him, of all people, makes your heart simultaneously break and leap at the same time.

You clear your throat, pushing the emotion away. “I…uh, well, I went to the pool with Sandy. Hence the tan. She happened to be in the room when your gift arrived, though, so that was interesting to try and explain,” you say.

“And what did you tell her?” he asks, resting his head on his hand, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. You are distracted by them and almost forget what he asked.

“Um, I basically told her I couldn’t tell her anything. How could I? I mean, we haven’t really talked about…” you motion between you two, “us, this. I couldn’t very well talk to her about it before I talked to you.”

He smiles that crooked smile of his, the one that melts your heart. “And how did she take that?”

“Oh, she was disappointed but didn’t pry. As soon as she saw the underwear, though, she’s made it her mission to figure out who the mystery man is. She’s been my shadow all night. It’s gonna be hard to keep this from her for very long,” you say dismally.

He laughs. “You can tell her, honey,” he says.

This floors you. “What? But aren’t you afraid…I mean...?” you worry.

Elvis puts his hand on your cheek. “Baby, I wanna keep seein’ you, and I think you wanna keep seein’ me.” The way he says it sends warmth radiating through your chest. But that warmth is quickly chased by cold, pragmatic fear.

He continues, “And I know she’s your best friend and y’need someone y’can talk to. Jerry knows already, anyway. I’ll make sure she knows to be discreet.”

Your mouth opens then closes. To say you are flabbergasted by this response doesn’t quite describe what you are feeling. It’s a mixture of relief, surprise, elation, confusion, and terror, and what seems like a hundred other things, all at once.

If Sandy knows, it makes this all real. Too real. This was only supposed to be a one-time thing. A way to stick it to Jack. A way to take some power back. A way to quell the unbridled sexual tension that had grown between you and Elvis.

But now you feel wildly out of control. Mind-blowing sex with the ethereal man in front of you has morphed so quickly into a passion you didn’t expect that you feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. The more you think about it and the more you remember, no matter how much you are shoving it away, you know that this was never going to be a one-time thing for Elvis. He knew it, too. The fact that you are here right now, like this, is proof. And you are not sure if that makes you elated or angry. Maybe it’s both.

This is too dangerous. Go back to Memphis and forget this ever happened.

Maybe that would have worked two nights ago, but the thought of leaving him now fills you with more despair than the anxiety of staying.

What happens if this all blows up in our faces? Because you think it will. You can feel the pressure building even now, though you aren’t sure to what end.

Elvis seems so utterly calm, so sure. You don’t know if this is because he lives in a world so above everyone that everything seems possible, like a strange naivety, or if he is just an optimist, but either way, you don’t know how to respond. You know you have to say something, though, because of the way he is looking at you, his eyes expectant and watchful.

“How? How are we gonna keep seeing each other, E? I go home tomorrow. And what about Jack?” you say in a whisper, all your emotions caving in on you at once. Tears spring to your eyes, which is not at all what you want or expect, and you are mad at yourself for ruining the mood.

“Hey, hey now, darlin’,” Elvis says with concern, sitting up and taking your face in his hands. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry. I got it all figured out. I’ll take care of you, honey,” he reassures you. He kisses your tears as they fall down your cheeks, his lips soft and warm.

Then, unexpectedly, he leans over and presses his lips softly to your cheek. They are warm and plush against your skin, lingering there for just a moment too long.

The memory flashes back to you, startling you as the past and present meld together.

He kissed you then much like he’s kissing you now. You pull back and look at him with wide eyes.

“Baby, y’look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he asks, eyes searching your face.

So many seeds have taken root, blossoming in your mind. (Or maybe they’ve always been fully bloomed, and I just never saw them.) You shake your head. Your heart is beating too fast. This isn’t the time to dive into this.

But when? you wonder.

How long has he…?

No, absolutely not. You won’t let yourself go there, you can’t, not now, not when he’s looking at you like this.

“I’m sorry, E, I just got caught off guard and got overwhelmed,” you finally respond, wiping your cheeks. “You—you said you have it all figured out?”

Throwing it back to him is the right call because now he’s excited. “You’re stayin’ in Vegas, honey.” He says it so matter-of-factly that you want to believe him, but you don’t understand.

Your heart drops into your stomach, as if you are plummeting down a roller coaster, the feeling where fear and excitement meet. “Elvis, you’re not making any sense. If I stay in Vegas, Jack is gonna want to know why, and I certainly can’t say I’m here for you. And I’m pretty sure Jack doesn’t particularly want me here, anyways,” you say with distain.

“Jack’s got his fuckin’ head wedged so far up his ass, he can’t see straight,” Elvis says, blatantly annoyed. “Don’t you worry ‘bout him.”

Don’t worry about him? He’s my husband! You almost say it, then think better of it, not wanting to get into that right now. Plus, you are curious as to this solution Elvis has miraculously come up with.

“Baby, remember the other night when you’s was tellin’ me you’re unhappy, that you don’t know where you belong, what your purpose is?” he says, practically bouncing.

You nod. How could you forget? That’s what started this all in the first place.

“Well, I figured it out. You belong here, with me, with us,” he says, beaming, taking your hand in both of his. You can feel him vibrating with energy.

“Wait, what…? Us? Who’s us?” you say, utterly confused.

“Us, the show. We’ve been talkin’ about needin’ someone to sing the high voice parts, along with the Sweet Inspirations. And it just came to me, after you were singin’ in the shower. It’s you. Of course, it’s you. Now you have a reason to stay. We get to be together, and the show will have a new member. It’s perfect.” His excitement is palpable, he’s nearly glowing with it.

Oh, this man is outta his goddamned mind. You shake your head, shock and fear like ice in your veins. “Elvis, do you not remember me telling you how terrified I am of singing in front of people? I could barely sing in front of you without having a meltdown!” you practically shriek, dousing his elation.

“Hey, there’ll be none of that!” Elvis raises his voice at you, eyes darkening. It’s not a yell, but it’s stern as hell, and you realize that Elvis probably doesn’t like having his “good idea” shot down before it’s barely out of his mouth. His change in demeanor shakes you enough to calm down a little. You know him well enough to know his mood can change on a dime, and you don’t think you can handle that on top of your own panic right now. You force yourself to take a long, deep breath.

“I’m not sayin’ you’re gettin’ up on stage with me tomorrow, honey, but I am sayin’ that maybe you need a little trainin’ to prepare you for the possibility that it could happen. And that trainin’ needs to happen here, in Vegas, with a vocal coach I already got comin’ in,” he explains more gently.

You are starting to understand what he’s getting at, and your fear abates a little. He’s not saying you’re joining the band (yet), but if you are training for it, whether it happens or not, you have a reason to stay.

“Now, I know you love music, baby, I know it in my bones cuz I see it in you, always have, plain as day. Maybe this is that purpose you’ve been lookin’ for. It’s kismet, I’m tellin’ you, honey, all this happenin’, here at once. You and me. Us needin’ another singer. Even Jack bein’ a dipshit. Can’t you see, baby? It’s meant to be,” he says fervently, holding onto your shoulders, his eyes wild with passion. He’s so enthusiastic, it’s hard to not be swept up with him.

It's meant to be…

You nod, letting him pull you along down this road. You do love music. You have been searching for something, a purpose. And you’d get to be here with him, not thousands of miles away, being sad and lonely in Memphis. What do you have to lose?

A lot, a voice counters. This is a bad idea.

You quash that voice, wanting to believe in this as much as Elvis does. As scared as you are of how out of control he makes you feel, how your feelings for him (and his for you) terrify you, you know that the stifling sadness of your old routine is slowly draining the life out of you.

If nothing else, Elvis makes you feel alive.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Elvis beams. “Really? Okay?” he asks.

“Okay, I’ll try it. I’ll work with your coach. But I can’t promise I’ll be any good or even be able to get up there,” you add pointedly.

You have to give him credit, though, because the more you think about it, the more genius the idea becomes. It could actually work in terms of your relationship, whatever it may be. But more importantly, the thought of doing something with music, something outside yourself, is enticing.

“That’s okay, we’ll just take it one step atta time,” he says, ecstatic. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “I just want you to be happy, baby. I wanna make you happy.”

God, he says it with such fervor, such sincerity, that you can’t help but be enveloped in it with him. The fact that anyone out there has your happiness at the forefront of their mind is amazing to you, much less it being Elvis Presley. And he seems to believe in you in a way you haven’t even believed in yourself in a very long time.

And that does make you happy.

Even if it scares the hell out of you.

**

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#elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #Pink Scarf #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #austin butler #elvis presley smut #elvis presley imagine #elvis smut #elvis imagine #austin!elvis smut #elvis fic #elvis presley fic

[nikibogwater]

I watched The Last Unicorn (1982) with very, very little prior knowledge of the film. And I wasn't planning to, but I ended up taking notes because wow. This movie. It's something.

The very little prior knowledge I had was as follows: it's an old animated film about a unicorn and I've occasionally heard people talk about it fondly. That's it, that's literally all I had going into this thing. It was not nearly enough to prepare me.

Ohhhh I love the scenery! Man, nothing hits quite like a traditional hand-drawn backgrou--OH MY WORD WHAT IS THAT WHY IS IT MOVING LIKE THAT STOP IT

Ohhh, this is a Rankin-Bass production? Well, that explains the animation.

Yeah that is not a unicorn, that's a llama with a table-knife glued to its head.

Ooh, the opening credits play over a lightly animated medieval tapestry! That's so coo--aaaaand they picked the most 80's sounding song I can imagine to go over it, okay.

Yo this butterfly is stoned out of his little buggy mind, maybe he should get some rehab.

Love that it's not immediately clear what the "red bull" actually is yet. Is it a literal bull? Is it a raging fire? Is it the inescapable march of industrial progress?? Gotta stay tuned to find out. (edit: it was literally just a bull and I need to stop reading symbolism into every little thing).

Ok ngl, the "Man's Road" sequence was actually fire, despite (or perhaps because of) the 80's cheese.

Angela Lansbury!!! Man, she just ate this role. Who'd've thought Mrs. Pots could sound so threatening?

I would die for Shmendrick.

Oh that is a very lore-accurate harpy right there. (⊙_⊙;)

Love how the witch's carnival arc touches on the idea of truth vs. wishful delusion. There's a beautiful irony in a movie about a literal unicorn talking about the importance of staying grounded in what is real and truly beautiful.

No, seriously, I would die for Shmendrick. Protect this precious man at all costs.

Can we pretty please stop calling the witch Mommy

"That's my immortality!" eyo this witch is actually a great villain. Really wish she could've stuck around for the whole movie.

Awww, the unicorn is taking care of Shmendrick! That's so sweet! God knows he needs it.

Shmendrick: Run! We'll find each other later! *immediately gets captured*

Have I mentioned that I would die for Shmendrick.

I feel like the entire bit with the outlaws had a lot of connecting shots cut out for time because I really couldn't follow any of what was happening.

Hehehe...That tree looks like a butt. I wonder if they did that on purpo--WHAT THE HELL

*nervously glancing over my shoulder to make sure my family doesn't see me watching this*

Unicorn to the rescue!! Thank heavens.

"That was true magic." Then please don't ever do true magic again.

"How dare you come to me now, when I am this?!" H-hey, nobody told me this movie was gonna go that hard...

Mom-friend acquired! Just in time, too. Unicorn looked like she was getting real tired of being the only one with two brain cells to rub together.

Our heroes: *bracing themselves for what may be the darkest, most dangerous part of their journey* Freakin' Gerry Beckley from "America:" 🎵MOON RISIN'! DISGUISIN'!! 🎵 Gotta love that tonal dissonance.

Oooh hey the animation on the Red Bull is actually kind of good!

Molly: DO SOME MAGIC! Shmendrick: I CAN'T! Molly: YES U CAN I BELIEVE IN U Shmendrick: *does some magic* Molly: NOOOOO WHAT HAVE U DONE Molly I love you, but make up your darn mind.

Love that being turned into a human being is like, the worst thing that could ever happen to the unicorn. Yeah, being human is a pretty awful experience.

Boy there is just empty static behind Prince Lir's eyes. Homeboy doesn't have a thought in his head and probably never will.

Lir: babe look I got u a severed dragon head pls love me

Oh yeah. Marry this one, Unicorn. He's a keeper.

Molly: Shmendrick will help! Unicorn: I hope for no help from him. He is no magician now, but the king's clown.

GURL SAY THAT AGAIN! U KEEP DISRESPECTING MY BOI SHMENDRICK AND U WILL GET THESE HANDS!

The pirate cat is now my second-favorite character. I've known him for all of 10 seconds, but I love him.

He doesn't actually purr. He just says, "Purr, purr." I love him even more now.

"No cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer." Most accurate line ever put to film.

Unicorn, please marry Prince Lir, you well never find a purer source of Himbo Energy than him. Look at him, he's even singing badly for you, you gotta take this one.

"I mean you can't really be that ridiculous magician's niece--" BETRAYAL. OUTRAGE. SCANDAL. I DISOWN YOU, LIR, YOU FOUL SERPENT WHO SPEAKS NOTHING BUT FILTH. I HOPE THE UNICORN BREAKS YOUR STUPID LITTLE HEART

Dang. This guy voicing the skeleton is putting his entire heart and soul into that laugh.

Prince "I love whom I love" Lir will not be stopped even by the threat of potential bestiality. I'd say Husband Goals, but first of all, ew, and second, he insulted Shmendrick so he is dead to me.

"I wish to God I didn't care about anything but my magic, but I do!" Oh Shmendrick, honey... 🥺

Yooo, that transformation back into her unicorn form was actually sick. For a Rankin-Bass made-for-tv movie, this thing pulls off some surprisingly good animation every once in a while.

Yeah, kick his magical red butt, little unicorn! Go save your boyfriend and your family!!!

What is it with Christopher Lee and playing creepy old guys who get thrown off of towers at the end

Wait, no, I only sort of meant it when I said the unicorn should break Lir's heart, I didn't think they'd actually do it!

Molly ditched her outlaw husband to travel the world with Shmendrick and honestly, I'd do the same if I was in her place.

Oh wow. She chose to save her own kind and return to her forest even though she loved Lir. This is actually very bittersweet and--GOTDANGIT GERRY BECKLEY, NOT NOW!!!

Closing thoughts: This movie was an absolute trip and I'm probably going to think it was a fever dream I once had after some time has passed. It's also the only movie I can think of that I would actually want a remake/remaster of. The story was great, though it jumped around from place to place so quickly that it was sometimes hard to follow what was happening. I like the characters a lot (mostly Shmendrick tbh but they're all good), and I wish there had been more time to let them interact with each other. You can see the potential for chemistry between the different personalities, but it's stifled by moments of awkward voice acting and the strange, jittery character animation. With more time to breathe and better animation, this story would really be something amazing. I'm actually very interested in reading the original novel it was based on now, I'll have to see if I can get my hands on a copy. All in all, The Last Unicorn (1982) is a mind-boggling experience with surprisingly deep themes combined with what I can only assume is what you see when you're on acid. If you have any interest, I would highly recommend seeing this thing for yourself.

Yes. Even the Boob Tree. Please. I don't want to be the only one who is cursed to have that scene in my brain.

#niki rambles #the last unicorn

[beneathashadytree]

Hey! I absolute love your writing it literally gives me life!!! Okay so basically my request is like the straw hats doing one of those WIRED autocomplete interviews but the last question asking is you or zoro are dating and the whole crew cannot keep straight faces so it’s obvious you are and seeing the poor man flustered while you laugh 😭🙌 I hope you like my idea i’ve just been watching too many do them interviews and they are so freakin funny!!

WIRED - RORONOA ZORO X READER

Warnings : this is a sort of AU in which the internet and cameras exist in the One Piece world, a few curses I think, one sexual innuendo, a hint of Frobin (but you can interpret this as platonic if you like), this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff and crack (I love them)

Word count : 1.5K words

Additional notes : Aaaaa you’re really too sweet to me holy shit😭 I absolutely ADORE these interviews btw, so this was so fun to write. It was more lighthearted than I’m used to, which made it the perfect way to unwind after hectic days at uni! Let me know what you think of this💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp.

Masterlist

“Okay, final batch!” Nami called out, taking the cardboard and setting it on her lap. Luffy let out a huff of relief at that.

“Finally—!”

“Luffy, you can’t just say that to the camera,” Chopper cried out from beside him, “People will think you’re not happy to be here.”

“It’s just that I’m hungry…” he moaned out, rubbing his stomach exaggeratedly.

Rolling her eyes, Nami grumbled, “Fine, fine, I’ll hurry up. Quit whining, you big baby.” To her left, Usopp ripped the paper off the first question, leaving it for her to read. “Are… both Sanji’s eyebrows swirly?”

The blond stiffly smiled from the couch, “Suppose there’s no use hiding it any longer.” He pushed his bangs upwards, exposing both curled ends. His crewmates “ooh”ed and “aah”ed in fascination, and Zoro rolled his eyes at that.

“Bastard probably did it knowing it would be all over the internet,” he mumbled under his breath, earning a glare from Sanji.

“Next question,” Usopp hurried, removing the paper on the question before a fight would break out. “Are… Franky’s modifications on every body part?” Grimacing, he glanced at Chopper. “Should we… should we really be answering this now and here?”

Chopper had a tired look on his face. “There isn’t much I haven’t seen at this point.”

With a shrug, Franky said, “Your call. I’m answering it anyways,” and leaning in conspirationally towards the camera, he grinned wide. “Yep, every body part. The adjustments guarantee a super time, if you catch my drift.”

“Franky, I think you should shut up. Permanently,” Robin sharply said, with an admonishing glare. The cyborg only winked at her, but did remain quiet afterwards.

“This feels like a déjà vu, doesn’t it?” Nami sighed as she ripped off another question. “Are… Brook’s signature moves inspired by other musicians?”

“Of course,” he answered with a benevolent smile, “I always pay homage to legendary dead artists whom I respect—though I myself am dead as well! Yo ho ho ho ho!”

“You’ll wear out that sense of humor one of these days.” Jinbei shook his head, though he looked at the musician fondly as he said it.

Luffy laughed, stretching his arms and wrapping them around Brook, slinging himself over to hug him. “I don’t care, he’s still a funny skeleton to me.”

Everyone looked at their captain with apparent affection in their eyes. “Onto the next question, let’s go,” Usopp enthused, his turn to rip next. “Are… Usopp’s curls natural?” A smug look made its way on his face. “Absolutely, one hundred percent. I have thirty handmaids to wash my hair, and ten servants to help style it perfectly every morning. After all, the great Usopp—“

“When did I turn into thirty handmaids?” came a snort from his left, and he turned his glare on them. Smirking at the camera, they jutted a thumb in the sniper’s direction. “This man right here comes crying to me every time on wash day because he’s too tired to do it himself.”

“Well, at least—“

“Settle down, ladies,” Nami interrupted coolly, before reading the next question out loud, “Are… Nami and Robin that beautiful in real life?” She blinked, glancing at her friend who was chuckling to herself. “I don’t know if I should be flattered that they think we’re beautiful, or offended that they think it’s all makeup and editing.”

“Oh dear,” Robin said, “Considering just how pretty you are right now, Nami, I’d take it as an honor.”

“You’re the best, I swear,” the navigator sighed happily, and everyone could almost see hearts in her eyes. She absolutely worshipped the older woman. “All compliments are ten times better when they come from someone as beautiful as you.”

“Ah, the most stunning flowers in the world—!“

“Are… Jinbei’s hugs as nice as they seem?” Usopp quickly butted in the middle of Sanji waxing poetic. After reading the question, every single one of the Strawhats grinned, answering in unison, “Yes!”

Their newest crewmate glanced at the fishman with a soft smile. “I was the last to join, but his gentle heart was enough encouragement for me to.”

With a sheepish smile on his face, Jinbei relented to the weight of Luffy tumbling from Brook onto him. He patted his back, and his captain only grinned wider.

“How sweet,” Nami cooed at the sight, before turning to rip the next question, “Are… Luffy’s attacks pre-planned?”

“No,” he bluntly replied from Jinbei’s hug, shrugging, “I do what feels right to me. I know my own strength well enough to know what to do.”

“Luffy’s much smarter than he looks,” Franky nodded, “His attacks are super deadly for a reason.”

Usopp hummed, “Alright, final two questions. This one says,” he paused, “Are… Chopper’s medical texts updated?”

“Of course. I have to have the latest discoveries and researches published in my books,” smiling as he spoke of his passion, he added, “Medicine evolves every day, so I can’t slack off as the ship’s doctor.”

“And the best doctor of all,” Brook gently patted his head, causing the reindeer’s face to quite literally glow.

“Asshole! That doesn’t make me happy at all.”

“And the final question,” Nami paused dramatically, before removing the paper, “Are… the two of them dating… Zoro and…” she leaned over trying to read the name furthest from her side, “Oh, it’s you!” she turned to her friend on Usopp’s left.

Silence fell in the room, everyone awkwardly glancing away from each other. Nami picked at her perfectly manicured nails, Robin found it awfully fascinating to card her fingers through Franky’s freshly-cut hair right now, and Usopp was too busy fussing with Chopper’s hat that was suddenly somehow completely askew.

Luffy’s (very obviously lying) face gave everything away when he said, “No… they’re not. Aren’t they, Jinbei?”

“Why would you ask me that?” he replied, dismay on his face as he was thrust into the spotlight he didn’t want one bit.

Brook deflected before they could even turn to him as the usual gossipmonger, “Don’t you like talking about love and romance, Sanji?”

The thunderous expression on the cook’s face was more than enough for him to choke on his words and turn away from him quickly. Much to their exasperation, that murderous look only served to affirm the public’s suspicions; his pure jealousy wasn’t so easy to conceal.

All the while, the rumored couple in question did their absolute best to avoid even glancing at each other.

Zoro’s stony expression would’ve been enough to deter even the bravest soul from asking any questions, but what completely contradicted it was the terribly endearing flush that climbed up down his cheeks to the nape of his neck. Though his eyes were guarded, his gritted teeth weren’t out of anger but embarrassment. It was laughable, really; how flustered the mere notion of being brought up as a couple made him.

And laugh they did, after having finally given in and spared the swordsman a glance from their place beside Usopp. Their knees knocked into his, and they could feel all along their body where they were touching just how tense he was. Simply unable to keep up the unreadable front, they wheezed with laughter at just how red their boyfriend currently was.

“You’re unbelievable,” they chortled, placing a hand on his shoulder for support as they bent over laughing.

Zoro glared at them, his blush only intensifying. “Shut up,” he hissed out, which only made them laugh harder, knowing that there was absolutely no venom behind these words. He truly was horrible at dealing with affection in a forthright manner.

Shaking their head at his antics, they only turned to the camera with a cheeky grin. “We’ll leave it up to the people to interpret it.”

“And cut!”

As soon as the words were yelled out by the director and the blinking of the camera turned off, Zoro swiveled in his seat to openly glare at them, his face still warm. “The hell was that about?”

“Your blushing gave it away, you musclehead idiot,” they rolled their eyes at him, “We’ll leave it up to PR. They’ll let us know what course of action we’ll take.”

“Why’s everyone so interested in us anyways,” he mumbled under his breath, and Sanji gave him his most disgusted look.

“Maybe it’s because your eyes are constantly defiling them, you shitty mossheaded bull—“

“You know there’s something about a pot and a kettle,” Nami scoffed, “Come on, Sanji. Let’s leave the two lovebirds.” Indeed, all the others had already packed their things and walked out (the first of them being a famished Luffy, of course).

“My sweet Nami-san! Of course I shall do whatever my goddess asks of me…”

Once they were alone, they carefully asked him. “Did… the question bother you?”

“Why would it?” Zoro looked confused.

“Just checking in with you,” they shook their head, a gentle smile on their face as they leaned in and kissed his cheek, “We’ll deal with whatever comes next together.”

He hummed, large hand reaching up to pat their head affectionately. Really, he couldn’t help but feel something melting inside his chest whenever they did things like that—even though he still remained a little flushed up till the tips of his ears.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go. By the time we make it back to the ship, Luffy will have had both our shares of lunch.”

Taglist: @stories-that-shaped-me @wifeofkyojuro

#imagine #oneshot #fluff #anime #crack #one piece #one piece x reader #op #op x reader #one piece fluff #one piece crack #one piece oneshot #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro oneshot #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro oneshot #roronoa zoro fluff #strawhat pirates #strawhats #straw hat zoro #pirate hunter zoro #one piece zoro #one piece roronoa zoro #op zoro #op roronoa zoro #frobin

[semiweirdshipper]

So I kind of just wanted to explain my situation to ya'll if that's alright. Disclaimer: this post is mainly of me just yapping and it includes some personal topics. Sorry...

Some of you are aware that I was in the process of moving across the country. Well I'm grateful to announce that the move was a success! I'm so grateful!!! I've only been in my new home less than a week, and it's the longest I've gone without being verbally abused in over thirteen years. Here in a few months- if something bad doesn't happen that is- it'll be the longest I've gone without being physically abused. And I can't tell you how good it feels. Like I'm soooooooo happy right now. Today I went walking around town and I got to do it without fearing for my life. My apartment is safe, this city is safe and the people are amazing. I kind of just feel like I'm living a dream (I'm freakin crying while I write this, lol). I've spent so long doing nothing but survive and now I feel like I can finally live.

I used to have to worry about every little thing; arson, breaking & entering, tire slashing, getting attacked, death threats. Terrific family, huh? The state I'm from (Arkansas) is one of the poorest, most violent states in all of America- please be extremely careful if you ever go there. So many bad things happened over the course of those thirteen years, I... I just don't know what to say. It was awful. I honestly don't know how I'm still here.

Unlike Arkanzans, the state I moved to glady accepts my Irish ethnicity and are positive towards my accent. I've never felt this peaceful and calm before. And I know bad things can happen at any moment- I could very well lose my life tomorrow or something, but I just can't deny how happy I am. I spent the last five years of my life working to achieve this goal, and I have. I ran away from all my abusers to my favorite state of all time, and I'm happy.

Right now I'm kind of just soaking up this new environment I live in. I'm not answering asks or writing updates or drabbles yet because I need just a little bit more time, (don't worry @breadboyye I haven't forgotten about your drabble! I will get it complete!) Many of you have been so supportive and patient with me and I'm so grateful for that. Thank you.

Oh, and the best part about all this? Not having to deal with bad people all the time might help me to make faster updates 👀🤞 let's hope for the best, me loves 💚 (Yes, I am going to start using my Irish slang. Get used to it).

#I've gained confidence! #And I feel alive!!! #Kidding #I'm still an insecure brat #Yes I'll try my hardest to get stuff updated #I love you all

[freakin-edikan]

Help Dusty Get out of Florida Fund

Hello. I'm Dusty. I moved back home with my parents after school because I couldn't afford to stay in NYC and they refused to help pay for me to stay up there while I was looking for work. My parents stress me out, it sucks and I hate it here. I'm trying to move back to NYC where 1) most of my friends are and 2) I can visit my brother more easily if I need help with something. I take commissions if you want me to draw something (please ignore the music commissions, I don't think I can do those right now) and I think my prices are pretty low. Links below, sob story under the cut

vnmo: @freakin-edikan cshapp: $freakinedikan Paypal me Commission post

My goal is $3300. 0/3300

My parents piss me the hell off and I want to leave. They say they're not stopping me from doing anything but there are so many "soft" restrictions it's basically total control. I can't leave the house because the county's transit sucks shit, I don't have a house key, and I don't have a license (and even if I did, I wouldn't have a car). I have no mental health provider so I've been rationing out my ADHD meds. But even if I did, I'd have no way to get there because I don't have a car. My dad was supposed to get me a bike with a lock but he didn't. He wants to teach me to drive but he's 1) never home bc he works (obviously? how would that work) and 2) when he tried to teach me in 2019 he wasn't helpful at all and was always yelling or almost yelling at me. But he also doesn't want me to get lessons from an outside agency. I keep getting pushed to take some retail or food service job which I know will burn me out so much I'll barely be able to focus on anything else. And I wouldn't be able to get there because I have no transportation. And because I don't clean the whole house or cook every meal I'm seen as "neglecting aspects of life." Meanwhile dad will eat up all the food and not buy groceries or he'll ask me to buy groceries. Even though I don't have an income or a car or a license. Also my dad got mad at me and did this to my door on Friday

and has the audacity to eat the food I bought for me and my friends with my own money. For my birthday. He's been eating my birthday food. Also the door no longer closes.

I am tired of having to play nice around my dad's volatile anger, which I've put up with since I was in elementary school. My parents paid for me to do a lot of things, which I appreciate. However, they also have repeatedly called me names, they interact with my hobbies with thinly-veiled contempt, they play passive aggressive when they're mad at me in front of guests, and they used to hit me all throughout K-12. They constantly frame their obligations to me as purely financial, they think they have no responsibility to be emotionally supportive or uplifting, but they also want me to baby their feelings and lie about how they treated me while accusing me of making up my mental issues for attention and sympathy. My dad keeps talking about how old and frail he is and how he could die any minute now and where I'm at is that I do not care and if/when he dies I will not be there. I'm literally sick of this behavior and they acted like this in 2019 when they were supposed to be taking care of me after I was hospitalized for attempting suicide. I'm still not over that and yet they're annoyed at me for being disorganized/scatterbrained, stressed out, and depressed.

[pevensiechase]

Hi Lexi!!

*finger gun 👉* *attempt at a threatening voice*: this is a robbery, hand over your thoughts about TTPD. (pls 🥺)

I wanna know what you thought of it, what was your favourite song? Most hated song? Theories about lore? Blorbo connections? General impressions?

Oh gosh, I have THOUGHTS

Favorite song: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart and Peter

;alskdfja;lskjf;las;k

ICDIWABH is just so...I love it. Such a mood. Also very sad. My favorite part is "I cry a lot, but I am so productive. It's an art." Also, I LOVE how they have the counting from her in-ears to symbolize The Eras Tour.

AND PETER. It's so bittersweet. And also makes me think of Jason Todd. It gave me a fic idea, and it's been on brainrot rotate for a few days.

Most hated song:

I really don't like doing this, but probably Guilty as Sin? Idk, the biblical references/heresy and innuendos just kinda make me uncomfortable.

Theories about lore:

Idk if this is lore but in How Did It End? Okay, so this one is people asking how it ended (assuming her relationship with Joe), but I also hear it as she's asking herself and Joe how? Like, how could it end? How could it have ended? They were going so well, how could it have ended? Because she thought he was her forever.

And I can't stop thinking about how much she wanted to get married. Like, were they engaged? Did he break it off?

Also, idc what people say, I can't believe that Down Bad is about Matty Healy. He doesn't deserve a heartbroken love song like that to be about him.

Blorbo connections:

I've already connected Peter to Jason in my head. Cassandra as Cass Cain, and Robin as all the Robins. I saw a post saying "don't listen to Robin and imagine Dick singing it to Jason" so that made me sad.

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? reminds me of Dick because there are a lot of mirrorball parallels.

General Impressions:

Don't @ me, I'm gonna tear it apart a little bit.

I'm so sick of Jack Antonoff's synth.

A lot of Midnights, 1989 Vault, and TTPD sound THE SAME. And I know, I know, Taylor knows what she is doing, and she trusts Jack, but I'm tired of that freakin' synth. Jack is good, but can bro change it up a bit?

I listened to it all the way through with my friends, so I didn't really have a lot of time to unpack everything *insert John Mulaney "now we don't have time to unpack all that" meme*

But, a lot of them just...didn't make an impression on me. I thought I was gonna like Florida!!! because I like Florence + the Machine, but it just...idk, Flo's voice didn't feel right to me.

I have no memory of the first three songs.

THE BABY LINE IN But Daddy I Love Him. Oh my gosh, that took me out.

I like the Anthology better than the original release.

Overall, the witchy/biblical references kinda weirded me out a bit.

I honestly feel bad for her. She's going through it. The songs are kind of all over the place, and I feel like that kinda represents her mental state. It's a bit unsettling though.

Idk, I didn't like it as much as I thought I would, but there are a few songs that stood out.

#alexa's takes #iggy implies #ttpd

[fritextramole]

leave me standing in the hall or let me enter?

part 5 of a Dan Humphrey playlist - best heard in order

tracklist and quotes under the cut

Boom Went the Boom ~ Joe Glazer

The wolf don't bother any more He starved to death right by my door

Alien Blues ~ Vundabar

I only talk to dogs because they don't understand me My teeth are yellow, hello world Would you like me a little better if they were white like yours?

Bum Bum Bum ~ Cass McCombs

They say, "Buy when there's blood in the streets Even if the blood is your own" So they employed men far away To turn against their home Centuries in the distant mist But it's not a dream No, it ain't no dream, it's all too real How long until This river of blood congeals?

Brazil ~ Declan McKenna

What have I become? I'm the face of God, I'm my father's son

Hold Me My Daddy ~ XTC

If this means war, why are we in it? Might've fired off a couple of rounds, I didn't mean to begin it. If these are the bullets that every father and son must chew, Well then hold me my daddy, I forgot to say I love you.

Ghosting ~ Mother Mother

I won't make noises in your stairs I will be kind and I'll be sweet If you stop staring straight through me And this is why I have decided To pull these old white sheets from my head I'll leave them folded neat and tidy So that you'll know I'm out of hiding

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land ~ MARINA

I am not my body, not my mind or my brain Not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA I am the observer, I'm a witness of life

Don’t Shut Me Down ~ ABBA

I'm fired up, I'm hot, don't shut me down I'm not the one you knew, I'm now, and then combined And I'm asking you to have an open mind (and I won't be the same)

Something In My Eye ~ Matt Berry

But here I am Grown I've come so far Alone I count the days Until I see you again

How Soon Is Now? ~ The Smiths

How can you say I go about things the wrong way? I am human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does

My Own Worst Enemy ~ Lit

It's no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy 'Cause every now and then, I kick the living shit out of me

Freakin’ Out On the Interstate ~ Briston Maroney

I'm walking back to my favorite place And I can feel them staring at me Baby, do you think I'm doing something wrong? And you got a lot on your mind And your heart, it looks just like mine

Kiss Me (I Loved You) ~ Father John Misty

I loved you I heard everything about you And maybe half of it was true

Arms Unfolding ~ dodie

hope i'm not tired of rebuilding cause this might take a little more i think i'd like to try look at you and feel the way i did before.

You Only Need You ~ Tom Rosenthal

You'll get me if you need me and you'll be fine if you don't You said it was arranged by love You have a lot of love to give out

Hello Stranger ~ Julia Holter

If you're not gonna stay Please don't tease me like you did before Because I still love you so

Night Terrors ~ shinigami

Growing up time moves faster than I can Sick and tired of lying to myself I cannot fucking stand this I'm sick of fucking standing On my own, on my phone

Mad World ~ Gary Jules, Michael Andrews

Went to school and I was very nervous No one knew me, no one knew me "Hello, teacher! Tell me, what's my lesson?" Look right through me, look right through me

3 a.m. ~ Gregory Alan Isakov

give me darkness when i’m dreaming give me moonlight when i’m leaving give me shoes that weren’t made for standing

Everything Is Free Father John Misty

Everything I ever done Gotta give it away Someone hit the big score They figured it out

Rest Awhile ~ They Might Be Giants

I got rid of my jackets and coats I threw out all of my pants I got sick of my stinkin' clothes I had to get rid of them I'm not yet considering replacing them I'm only glad to be rid of them

Daddy Sang Bass ~ Johnny Cash

singin' seems to help a troubled soul one of these days and it won't be long i'll rejoin them in a song

#gg #ggplaylists #dan humphrey #gossip girl #source: senamarais

[soapsdish]

tag gamerules: favorite: movie, hobby, animal, character, color, place, season, album, food

movie: attack the block - 2011 had some banger movies and this was one of them. it's got everything one could hope for: great actors, superb acting, action, quirky weirdness, kickass aliens, and john boyega's movie debut! I could rewatch this right alongside the abyss ('84), the thing ('82) and battle los angeles (2011).

hobby: gaming! I'm a hardcore gamer that likes just about every genre on the market but I'm particularly in love with horror/zombies (multiplayer so I can play with friends), action-adventure, and looter shooters.

animal: cats! I love pretty much all animals but these little land sharks hold a special place in my heart and my life. I've got two right now but I want more. My husband has to reign me in...even though he's just as bad. What can I say? we're cat parents.

character: g.i. joe was one of my favorite cartoons growing up and thus my love for military men and women bloomed. at first I had all the love for shipwreck and lady j but then this man appeared: sgt. ronald tadur aka Dusty (Rudat). he's a desert survival expert/specialist who is so damn good and loyal and wonderful that I still simp for him decades later. he will always be in my heart.

color: usually i'd just say black but, well, midnight blue is simply gorgeous and I've got an accent wall in my bedroom with gold leaves dotting it. it's such a pretty color.

place: the woods! I cannot live without trees surrounding me. I basically forced my husband (then bf) to move up with me because I refused to live in a city of any kind. before I really lost the ability to walk unaided I used to trek through the woods behind my grandparents house on the mountain and through the woods behind the little places I grew up in. (we moved a lot when I was younger). I still like taking a trail or two in a state park but I so freakin' miss being able to just get lost in the thick of'em and spend hours just exploring.

season: fall! i love watching the leaves and brush change, the pumpkins and gords starting to adorn street corners and window displays, pumpkin spice EVERYTHING, the cooler temperatures (sweater weather!!), and the coming of Halloween!

album: needtobreath's hard love - this album saw me through a rough patch and kept my heart filled with a soft kind of wonder. all the tracks are excellent but I've got such a hardon for HAPPINESS and the signature song hard love. honestly, i pretty much have a love affair with all their albums. Bonus: HAPPINESS, Bottom of a Heartbreak, I am Yours, and West Texas Wind are 100% blorbo songs.

food: stromboli!! omg I could eat this deliciousness every single day and not tire (not with how many combinations you can make). it's so good ;A;

Thanks so much for the tag: @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

tags (if you'd like): @caroll-in @ex-umbra @tacticalanxiety @starlight-shades @deadbranch @losersimonriley (honestly I'd tag every single follower and mutual I have because I love learning things about people!)

#jay says stuff #tag memes #i adore these honestly #it's fun to see what others say and offer the same in turn #i like learning things about others! #hopefully y'all enjoy learning a little something about me too

[asterhaze]

Horror Prompt: Write a story from the perspective of someone who is becoming more and more aware that this process is happening to them. NOT like the baby is swapped out when already birthed either~

(Sorry to paraphrase, it's just the story is already long. Thank you, @doublegoblin, for the prompt. I had an absolute blast writing this.) 

Planet Batman

Genres: Light Horror - Long Post Copyright © 2023. Aster Haze. All rights reserved.

Video Log, Relative Date 238450 

[Audio Only]  

Something got me today, you know. Funny, I thought you should know about it before I told MED. Probably won’t tell MED anyway, it’s just an itchy spot. Anyways, we were checking out Gregaliton Ac - A planet I nicknamed Batman because there are so many freakin’ bird-bat things flying around. Figure he must be running around somewhere, haha! 

Anyways, those bird-bat things? They can be really small. Like the size of your thumb when they’re babies, it turns out. They don’t weigh a thing and will climb all over you if you sit still long enough. I had a cut in my HAZMAT, thin as the side of a coin and only a few centimeters long. Got totally overlooked since the planet was deemed bio-safe. One of those damned things must have nibbled on me through that hole and now I have this tiny itchy spot that is driving me insane. 

I scratch and scratch and all it seems to do is spread. Got some antihistamines and they don’t seem to be doing much other than making me tired as hell. It’s also started burning since I’m scratching so much, so I’ve decided just to leave it alone. Anyways, Darling, please don’t tell MED or Cap. This planet is a big break for me, especially since the bat-things are so easy to study, I really think I can get a few papers on extraterrestrial life going and get our names out there but if they find out I didn’t report this as soon as it happened-- they’ll expo me back to Earth and I’ll be done. 

I’ll send you another log in about four earth weeks. Love you baby. 

Video Log, Relative Date 238510 

[Audio Only] 

Sorry, I can’t get this damn thing to send you a video log. For some reason, it’s only sending out the audio file. It’ll have to do until I get back to port. Everything’s fine, just fine. That itchy spot went away and it’s like nothing ever happened. We found out the bird-bats drink blood, which I could have told you just by looking at them, and I pretended to have a cold to get some blood tests secretly run. Ran in there after hours and copied the results myself and you know what? Nothing. I told you I’d be totally fine. 

They did say that if anyone gets bitten by these things they’re SOL until we get back to port since the full-body scanner is down. No X-rays, no MRIs, Nothing like that. Gonna put them in solitary as a sort of quarantine. So I gotta make sure this stays a secret so I can study these things. I feel stupid for telling you, but I guess you really needed to know. I’m trusting you not to tell anyone. 

Anyways, let me tell you more about these bird-bat things… 

Video Log, Relative Date 238590 

[Audio Only] 

Something strange happened to me, Darla. I didn’t want to say anything before, but now it’s obvious. My eyes have been changing color for the past few weeks. I didn’t even notice because they’ve been changing so slowly. You know how I am about my wrinkles, I’m always looking in the mirror, but sure as shit they’ve changed completely. Brown straight into a very bright, noticeable, blue.

George is the one who noticed a few weeks ago, when my eyes were about halfway to being blue. Asked me if I always had blue-brown eyes. Said he’d never seen eyes like mine. Looked into them for a long, long time, admiring them.  I keep getting compliments on my eyes, people keep looking into them when they’re talking to me. Like…really looking into them and it’s freaking me out. 

Don’t worry baby, I only have eyes for you. Haha! I do miss you though. I never thought I’d be bored on a planet with this many bird-bats flying around. They’re always on the ship, trying to claw their way in with their tiny claws, and they never get anywhere. It’s amusing to say the least. 

We think we landed close to where they give birth since every one of the bird-bats we’ve seen around here only get about as big as your hand. Elsewhere, on the mountains though, they’re as big as a lion. We’re pretty sure they drink blood as babies and then end up as cannibals since we haven’t found another living thing on this planet except for the bird-bats and a bunch of plants. At least the little shits sleep underground during the day, or I’d never get any sleep. 

Yeah, yeah. I know you hate it when I get my schedule turned around but how am I supposed to study them if they’re sleeping? 

Video Log, Relative Date 238690 

[Audio Only]  

I’m so bored my appetite has gotten horrible. I eat and eat and nothing seems to fill this void I have in my stomach. I end up eating so much I throw everything up and I’m starving. They gave me a blood transfusion today, turns out Georgie and I have the same blood type, and I felt amazing afterwards. I keep joking that I must have had bad blood. MED isn’t too worried about it, I’m healthy otherwise. They think I have some sort of deficiency in something the blood tests aren’t picking up so they’ve put me on a liquid diet, lots of iron pills, and they’re planning on doing a few more iron transfusions to see if it will help. 

Video Log, Relative Date 239450 

[Audio Only]  

Honestly, that blood transfusion helped more than anything. This liquid diet does nothing for me, so I’ve quit. Between the iron transfusions and a little bit of water, I feel okay enough to go about my week without eating at all. Isn’t that insane? My eyes are still blue, Darla. Stop asking about it, I’ll just let you know when they’re brown again. I think it’s something to do with the atmosphere…maybe the star around this planet. I’m not sure. 

Video Log, Relative Date 239650 

[Audio Only]  

People are starting to think I have space madness, Darla. But I don’t. I’m just so bored all the fucking time. I want to move around, to jump, to climb things, but the gym is closed at night. Am I the only one studying these damned bird-bat things? Why am I being punished for being a specialist? I need exercise too. I think I’m going to go running around outside tomorrow night, climb some rocks or something, I need to clear my head. I have all of this pent up energy and I can’t think straight. I’m starving. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245431 

[Audio Only]  

They caught me climbing things. George has been keeping an eye on me, saying he’s suspicious that I have space madness. Something about how sometimes I ramble on and on about things without a “clear direction” or something like that. I just do that. You remember that log I sent where I rambled on about bird-bats? Right? I just talk and talk. I like the sound of my own voice. 

Anyways, now I have to have someone with me when I leave the ship. They’re still going to let me study the bird-bats until they migrate. They’re starting to eat each other already. I’m finding little bat-bird bits and pieces everywhere, so plenty of chances to take samples. We think they migrate to find bigger prey, eat everything in the area, and then move on again until they reach the mountain to mate and start the process all over again. I’m still so confused as to why they’re the only species on this planet and how they’ve lasted so long. It’s so strange. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245652 

[Audio Only]  

Next time George sends you a log, I want you to delete it. He’s videoing me all the time, trying to find proof of me having “space madness” so he can get me in solitary. He saw me looking over the HAZMAT suits. I wanted to make sure there were no holes, Darla, I really did. Remember the hole? That suit was still there. What if someone else got in it and got nibbled on by a bat-bird? Then we’d have to go home and my paper would be null and void.

A paper. I’m obsessing over that damned paper.  

What if George is right and I do have space madness? 

…

That’s impossible. I had all of those tests run and the only change I’ve experienced is the eye color change. Maybe a little ditzyness. Poor appetite. Hell, some people get that just from being away from home too long. George is getting into my head because I’m still starving to death and all of these people keep staring into my eyes when they talk to me still. It’s disgusting. They’re disgusting. I wish they’d leave me alone. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245662

[Audio Only]  

I’m sorry I sounded so frustrated last time. I’m just tired of having people up my ass. But I have good news. George tried to tell Cap that he didn’t like how obsessed I was with the HAZMATs, the whole “space madness” thing. When the Cap asked me about it I told him to read the report I made on the suits, including where I marked the suit with the hole and made a comment that George seems pretty obsessed with the whole space madness and gets antsy around the HAZMATs. I’ll be honest with you Darla, I can’t really believe it. Cap apologized and now I’m allowed to run around on my own again. 

He threw George into solitary for harassment. George is the one getting in trouble for not reporting a hole in the suits, not me. It took a lot of talking, a lot of fenagling, but I got the job done. I won’t bore you with the details. Point is, George is in solitary and things are looking up for me for as long as we are on Planet Batman. 

I told Cap about the gym and he opened it up for me for a couple of hours a night, so I haven’t gotten in trouble for climbing for a long time. I’ve gotten pretty good, surprisingly good, it’s like my hands just…know where to go. Like my feet just glide right into place. I fucking love it. Not as much as I love you, but pretty damn close. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245700

[Audio Only]  

I’m really ready to be home. Everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. I know it’s called solitary, but they let you talk to them through the wall since they’re not in real trouble. George and I used to be friends before all of this, you know, you remember George, so I thought I’d pay him a visit just to be nice. Yeah, because George and I were friends before all of this. Just to be nice.  

…

Oh fine. I wanted to show him a smug look, okay? 

When I got there, we of course got into an argument. Things got heated and…I have a strike on my record now. Cap said he’s just going to mark me down for bad behavior because I’ve never had a strike before. Should expire before we get back to Earth so it won’t go against our credits. I’m sorry Darla, it’s just…everyone and everything is getting on my nerves. Especially George. They haven’t let him out of confinement, but I figured I’d pay him a visit-- 

Video Log, Relative Date 245705 

[Audio Only]  

Georgie is dead. They found him this morning out behind the rocks that the ship kicked up when it landed. Seems like he fell from on the ship somehow. I have no idea how he could have gotten up there without flying, and the bird-bats are all gone, so I’m not quite sure what happened. Honestly, I have no clue. Not a single one. Not even a crumb of an idea of what happened to poor old George and his magnificent body. 

The best thing about this, Darla? I’m finished with my papers. They’re even going to let me come back here in a few rotations to follow up my work. Cap and MED are ecstatic and are calling this mission a total success. I have to say with George gone, that statement is impeccably true. 

Love you, Darla. We’ll be taking off in a few days. 

Video Log, Relative Date 245709 

[Audio Only]  

What the fuck, Darla? What the hell is wrong with you? I never got bit by one of those things. I got nibbled, NIBBLED, they never even drew blood. I never stole my medical records, I copied them. Listen, I know you’re angry at me for not sending you a video log for most of the trip, since my eyes changed color, but I can’t believe you’d rat me out like this. You’re lucky my paper was already done or I’d be considering a divorce. Hell, I’m considering one anyway. What in the world makes you think I killed George? He fell, Darla. All you have to go on is a video log you said I sent, which I didn’t, and… you know what Darla? Forget it. We can talk about it when I get home. Consider yourself lucky the Cap thinks you’re the one who has space madness.

#original fiction #original writing #original story #horror writing prompt #writing prompt reply #horror writing prompt reply #writeblr #writing #writers #writers of tumblr #writblr #writerblr #write #writing community

[maddieladner1999]

Bad Idea Right?

A Ricky and EJ fanfic set during season 4 when Ricky visits EJ at college. I really liked a lot of the dialogue from there scene, so I kept most of it and tweaked it to my story.

All rights go to Disney and Tim Federly for characters. I do not own them. 

When Ricky and Gina kept having problems between the movie, seeing each other, and Mack always being around, Ricky didn’t know what to do. He’s scared. He hasn’t been this scared in a while, so he does the stupidest thing he could possibly do, goes to visit EJ at college. While looking for his dorm  building he finally sees EJ standing on the stairs on the second floor. 

EJ: Richard Bowen

Ricky: Elton John

Ej: Welcome to college. 

Ricky is taken by EJ into EJ’s room and given a brief tour. He’s staying by himself as an RA so that means he won’t have to worry about any conversation interrupters. EJ tells him that he is no longer speaking to his dad, working 4 jobs, has a full class schedule, weekly practice for the ping pong team, and sectionals is coming up for his acapella group the Blindorphins. No suprise that he stays busy he always has. And of course he’s doing acapella, he always like Blaine the best on glee. 

Ricky couldn’t help but notice the guitars. He remembers hearing EJ play for the first time at camp this summer. He never knew EJ even knew how to play guitar, but alas the older boy is full of surprises. Camp also reminds him of trying to hang out with EJ and EJ was too busy. He wonders back on that night to what could’ve happened if he did instead of Gina. He never wouldn’t realized his feelings for Gina probably. He most likely would’ve realized the truth of why he always steals EJs girlfriends. He really just wants EJ. He asks EJ to play him a song

EJ: it might be terrible

Ricky: “all songs might be terrible, Elton.” He loved using his given name. It made him feel things. 

EJ: yeah sounds about right. Capo. 

Ricky: oh capo? Fancy. 

EJ starts singing and Ricky can’t help himself. He’s absolutely in love with the man standing before him. He decides to join in with his struggles in the song too. 

Ricky is strolling through Instagram to find Quinn’s latest post featuring Mack and Gina kissing. He’s not even jealous anymore. He just wishes Gina would tell him how she feels. Guess he’ll just have to tell EJ first and see what happens. 

EJ comes back and can visibly see something’s wrong

EJ: ok so you wanna grab food? You ok?

Ricky: I am great. Super. Good

EJ grand his phone and sees the pictures. “Hey I know what it feels like. I’m here for you though, unless you wanna be alone.”

Ricky: I thought everything was perfect. It was, for like a second. Just like it was with my parents. Just like it was with nini. Just like it was with my dad and miss freakin jenn. It’s like everyone’s allowed to be ok for like 10 seconds. And then everything falls apart. And then Gina gets this great movie opportunity, and this guy, her childhood crush, is hanging around all the time and it’s like ok I don’t wanna get in her way, but I don’t know what else to do but hide. 

EJ: well do you know what she wants?

Ricky: IDK. I’m too afraid to ask. Are you ever like um afraid of the truth? 

EJ: I mean not so much anymore. 

Ricky: I don’t wanna respond to my moms texts because I don’t wanna know if she’s back with Todd. I’m tanking my senior year instead of applying to colleges or focusing on my grades. I’m just distracted at the fear of losing more people. I’m tired. I’m tired of losing people. I don’t wanna lose Gina but the truth is I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for quite some time now. I love her I do. But not like that. 

EJ: wow that wasn’t what I was expecting. 

Ricky: and what were you expecting? 

EJ: I thought you’d come here for advice on getting Gina to be 100% yours. I never expected you to secretly harbor feelings for me. 

Ricky: well I do. And I have no idea what to do now. Especially since you probably don’t even feel the same way. 

EJ: oh. I do though. I have for a while now too. I’m not sure how long but I do. I hated calling you my brother that day at the screening. Especially since I was just so hurt I thought you liked her. I never thought you could ever like me. Clearly, I was wrong. 

Ricky: so now what?

EJ: why don’t we get some food and then figure it out. I’m starving 

Ricky: ok 

EJ orders some food for delivery to campus and the two boys eat on the floor since EJ doesn’t really have a table. 

EJ: I am stuffed

Ricky: yeah me too

*thunder rumbles outside*

EJ: no

Ricky: I should probably hit the road before an actual monsoon arrives. Hey I’m sorry for showing up and dropping everything on you earlier. You didn’t ask for that. 

EJ throws a balled up paper wrapper at Ricky “actually, I think you’re done talking for a minute.”

EJ: there are a lot of things that I would do different. I wish I would’ve stood up to my dad sooner. I wish I had spent last summer having more fun… there are just so many things that I didn’t get right. 

Ricky: I had no idea

EJ: look the point is, sometimes things don’t work out and our job is to just shake it off and hold on to some hope for what’s next. Look… my time at east high is over. And I am  so proud of who I am and who I’ve become. And I do love what has come next. But dude there is nothing in this world like high school. Nothing. And I promise you, you will never find another family like the wildcats. Take em in. Love em. Because honestly one of the biggest reasons I stay so busy is because I miss it every single day. And you will too Ricky, I promise you. It happens to every single one of us. And look dude, I think there are plenty of people who do more than worry about you, but you have to actually let them. I mean you have to actually pick up the phone, reach out and stop feeling sorry for yourself. 

Ricky: that’s not…

EJ: and look Gina is the best. And I am at peace with how things worked out, but you have to tell her the truth. I know you think you’re the guy who runs away and that’s just some personality trait that you have to be stuck with forever. You know something bad happens and you hide like opening night with HSM. And the crazy thing is you think you’re actually helping the other person, but you know what?

Ricky: I’m actually hurting them?

EJ: no you’re actually hurting yourself. Look you can be the guy who runs. You can be. Plenty of people do. But is anybody gonna show up for that guy? You still have plenty of time to change that. 

Ricky: (sobs) how?

EJ: if you wanna be happy in the future, you better start speaking your mind to the people you care about. Like right now. 

Ricky: okay. Okay. I’m not gonna run away again. I’m not gonna run away this time. I like you EJ. I do. And I need to tell Gina that. And I will. 

EJ:  ok but it’s storming and I can’t let you drive home in that weather. You can stay here tonight and drive back in the morning. 

Ricky: ok but I didn’t plan on staying the night so I don’t have any clothes and you have a twin size bed. 

EJ: I’ll make a pallet on the floor and you can borrow some of my stuff. 

Ricky: so now what?

EJ kisses Ricky and Ricky finally understands the whole thing about fireworks. Seeing EJ tonight was definitely a bad idea but it’s time he goes after what he wants. It’s the best kiss he’s ever had. But he can’t continue with Gina still being his girlfriend. 

Ricky: I’m sorry but I can’t do that to Gina. 

EJ: right I shouldn’t have I’m sorry. I’ll get you some clothes. 

EJ starts rifling through his stuff and Ricky decides to step in the hall. He texts miss jenn that he can’t make it to rehearsal and calls Gina. She answers. He doesn’t wanna do this over the phone but he can’t keep it to himself any longer. He wants EJ. And he can’t sleep on EJ’s floor next to him tonight and resist him. 

Gina: hey Ricky I was just sitting down for dinner is everything ok? I know you went to see EJ

Ricky: yeah I’m still here. It’s raining pretty bad and he refuses to let me drive in the bad weather. 

Gina: that’s good. So what’s up?

Ricky: look I love you, I do. But this year has been rough. With Mack, your childhood crush, and the movie. I don’t think I can do this anymore. 

Gina: what are you talking about?

Ricky: I just had a really long important conversation with EJ and he laid some truths out. I run away from my problems and I know that. And I can’t keep doing it anymore. Running away won’t make it better. This time without you thought has made he realize something. I thought it could work with nini I thought it was supposed to because I’ve known her forever and we’re so good together but as just friends. And then I realized maybe it was you but as always everything bad that could happen happened. I really thought I could be with you and that you were the one and who knows maybe you are. But I think we need to be apart. You can go be with Mack if you want. And I’m sorry for doing this over the phone but I just couldn’t continue on without telling you how I feel. I’ll be back tomorrow 

Gina: you’re right. This isn’t working. I tried the best I could but you still slipped away. I couldn’t stop you. I understand. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then? 

Ricky: one more thing. 

Gina: what?

Ricky: I like EJ. I didn’t wanna tell you over the phone but I needed you to know. He kissed me. That’s it though. I couldn’t do that to you. But now that we’re over I need to see what happens next here with EJ. 

Gina: I always suspected but l wasn’t sure. 

Ricky: what?

Gina: you stole his girlfriend twice. You always seemed to care about what EJ was doing. It makes sense now. 

Ricky: well I’m sorry again. 

Gina: it’s ok. At least it was before we got too serious. Didn’t break my heart Bowen. 

Ricky: good. I’ll see you at school?

Gina: yeah. Bye. 

Ricky comes back into EJ’s room to find EJ had taken a shower and got him some clothes

EJ: everything ok?

Ricky: yeah. I just broke up with Gina. 

EJ: oh. How’d she take it?

Ricky: good. She even apparently kinda suspected I liked you

EJ: oh yeah? 

Ricky: yeah. I guess I was a little obvious with my obsession of EJ caswell. 

EJ: so everything’s good. No broken hearts? Cause I would never forgive you if you hurt her. 

Ricky: yeah everything’s good. We weren’t that serious yet so she’s not hurt. 

EJ: ok well I guess you could shower if you want now. I left some clothes on your pallet. 

Ricky: ok. I’m gonna do that

While Ricky showered he thought about EJ some more. He’s in his shower using his soap and shampoo. He liked the idea of smelling like EJ. He couldn’t wait to get out and see him again. That scruffy looking dork could be his now. If EJ wasn’t too busy to have him of course. 

When Ricky comes out the bathroom he understands the term “coming out the closet” even more. So that’s what he’s gonna do tomorrow. He’s gonna figure out his sexuality and tell everyone in the drama club. They’ll accept him. He knows they will. Carlos, Ashlyn, and Maddox are all part of the community already. And his best friend big red is Bi. And gina already knows. Everything is going to be fine. 

EJ: you good?

Ricky: yeah. I’m just not a fan of sleeping on the floor. 

EJ: wanna trade?

Ricky: no. I wanna spoon you actually. 

EJ: oh? Well then get in. 

Ricky gets in the bed and goes to wrap his arm around EJ when EJ turns toward him

EJ: so if you and Gina are over and she knows does that mean we can kiss now?

Ricky: oh I wanna do so much more than kiss you. 

______________

EJ’s pov:

EJ kisses Ricky with such force it almost knocks Ricky off the bed. He saves him in great timing though. EJ rolls Ricky on top of him so he won’t have to worry about Ricky falling off the bed and immediately takes off Ricky’s shirt. He’s used to the smell of his soap but he notices it on Ricky. He likes it. As he goes down to pull off Ricky’s pants he takes a moment to let Ricky take off his shirt. Momentarily distracted by Ricky kissing his entire torso up and down he almost forgets what he’s doing. Finally he gets the pants off along with the boxers. Ricky is bigger than he thought he’d be and already fully erected. He realizes he doesn’t completely know that he’s doing so decides on giving a blow job. He flips Ricky over so he can get to the right spot. He knows what he likes so he does it to Ricky. Ricky doesn’t take very long to cum and soon his mouth is full. After that, Ricky is obviously dazed. He doesn’t know what to do know so he cleans Ricky up and kisses him up his torso. Ricky finally has words 

Ricky: I thought coming here would be a bad idea actually 

EJ: yeah? Was it?

Ricky: no I think it was the best idea I’ve ever had. 

EJ: good. So you wanna take a turn now? 

Ricky: 1 night and you’re already asking the right questions. Of course I do. 

 ___________

Ricky’s pov:

EJ just gave Ricky the best blowjob of his life and he could feel that EJ was hard. So when he asked if I wanted to return the favor I knew I had to. 

I flipped EJ back to his back after slipping off his pajama bottoms and boxers. I thought I was big but man did EJ have an inch or 2 on me. I moved down to get in position and got started on his cock. I did everything the same as he did but faster. EJ was moaning so hard. Once he came, I cleaned him up and kissed him up his torso till I met his lips. This was the best night of my life. But I was tired so I promptly laid down on top of EJ and fell asleep. 

The next morning I was still naked and on top of EJ who was of course also naked. I couldn’t help but smile. He looked so cute when he slept. He soon woke up and said good morning. I responded the same and kissed him. I knew I had to get back home but I didn’t wanna leave. After a few minutes of kissing EJ stopped and had some things to say

EJ: well last night was fun. 

Ricky: yeah it was. I guess I have to go back now. 

EJ: yeah I guess so. I almost forgot you were still in high school. 

Ricky: me too. I didn’t even wanna leave. 

EJ: well then when you get home go apply to go to school here and work really hard to get in. 

Ricky: I will. 

EJ: long distance can be hard. Is that something you wanna do or do you wanna wait till senior year is over?

Ricky: I think I’ve waited long enough for the right person I’m not running away from that again 

EJ: you really taking my words to heart?

Ricky: yeah. So I guess you can text me your busy schedule and I’ll find time to FaceTime you. And maybe even visit. And you have to come see the show. 

EJ: of course I will. So we doing this. 

Ricky: yep! I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. 

EJ: you should get going soon 

Ricky gets up off of EJ and gets dressed in his clothes from yesterday. 

Ricky: I guess the pajamas weren’t that necessary after all

EJ: nope. (EJ gets up and puts on his boxers so he’s not naked) but it was still nice to see you in my clothes if only for a minute. 

Ricky: well thanks for last night again. It’s time I go after what I want. And who I want. 

EJ: hey I’m always here when you need me. 

Ricky: well I should get going. (Ricky texts his dad he’s on his way home)

EJ: wait before you go

Ricky: one last kiss for the road?

EJ: no. Well yeah but I wanted to give you something. (EJ hands Ricky his electric guitar)

Ricky: no

EJ: you’ll probably get more use out of this than I will

Ricky: EJ

EJ: please. (EJ kisses Ricky very passionately before taking him into a hug)

Ricky: I love you

EJ: I love you too now get out of here

Ricky: see you at opening night?

EJ: of course and we’ll definitely FaceTime before then

The end. 

#hsmtmts #ej caswell #ricky bowen #caswen #fan fiction #badidearight

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 14

Sorry about Sunday's empty post ☹️ I must've accidentally put a draft template in my queue because I am basically tired and rubbish and life isn’t the greatest right now. Anyhow.... Whoops and really sorry again!

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Eddie POV

When neither Steve nor Robin show up after ten minutes, Eddie begins to freak out. 

He, Hopper and El are still waiting for the car, out of sight among some ferns. Hopper’s getting antsy, muttering beneath his breath, while Eddie’s wriggling like he’s got ants in his pants. Which he genuinely might have, though that’s not what’s bugging him:

“Uuuuh, shall I see what’s taking them so long?”

“You do that,” says Hopper. “What’s going on with that guy? He could barely stand! How the hell could he…”

Eddie tunes out, retracing their journey into the trees, calling Robin’s name then Steve’s. Maybe Steve passed out, and Robin got lost searching? Somehow, he doesn’t buy it. A heaviness slows his feet, and his guts twist sourly. 

They wouldn’t just ditch him. Surely? Surely!?! 

Fifteen minutes later, he winds up where he started: “They’re not back?” 

“What do you reckon?” Hopper’s breathing hard and red in the face. Evidently, he’s been running in circles like Eddie has.

“This is for you.” El nudges Eddie and presses a scrap of paper into his hand. “I think Steve left it.”

“What? Where?” Eddie’s stomach clamps tight again. 

Her eyes stretch very wide. “Fell out of your pack.”

Turning the note over in his hands, his fingers stiffen, as if shrinking from the task, bracing for… something. In the event, he gets a literal slap around the face.

“You make me sick,” Steve wrote.

Eddie’s skin burns with the blow. Wow! This is why I never have and never freakin’ will write love songs.

“What does he say?” demands Hopper.

Eddie scans the note one more time, scrunches it in his fist. “I’d hazard a guess he’s gone back to Hawkins.”

“Goddammit! Robin’s gone with him?”

“I think that’s a safe bet.” A wobble in the back of Eddie’s throat finds its way into his voice. Because, boy, is he still processing.

You make me sick. 

What does that even mean? To be fair, Eddie did make Steve sick. More than once. But why the heck write… that. Would suck less to be dumped without a word. 

Thanks for the overkill, man.

“Don’t you even think about scooting off,” growls Hopper. “Your uncle would never forgive me.” 

Oh yeah. Wayne. The only person who ever actually cared about him.

Eddie plonks his butt down on the ground and waits for the car.

…

Steve POV

“C’mon, giddy up,” says Steve. He and Robin make their way along the muddy bank of the stream towards home.

“Is this some kind of race?” she asks. “While I’d forgotten your former life as a douchebag jock, you’re doing a stunning job of reminding me, and… Uuuuugh!” 

“Jesus Christ, what’s wrong this time?” He spirals about, plants his hands on his hips—he’d ditched the sling a while ago. 

She scrubs madly at her lips. “I swallowed a bug! Ugh, ugh, ugh, mega-gross. Eeeeurgh!”

“Maybe if you weren’t complaining, like, constantly, there’d be less opportunities for bugs to get in.” 

“You shut up, shit-bird! I could die of malaria.” She spits into the stream. “Ew! EEEEEEEW!” 

“Ssssh! Hop said the military will be crawling everywhere soon, or—”

“Eddie might hear?” His heart heaves a loaded thud. She looks back sharply, purses her lips. “You know, he could be lost in the wilderness, all alone. Being hunted by evil army thugs. Or bears! Did you think of that when you sauntered off?”

“I did, yeah. I left him a message saying not to follow.” He shades his face from the afternoon sunlight, which shafts between the trees. Also, he can’t look her straight on and say this: “It was kinda brutal, I guess. It was for his own good, right?”

“Oh. Riiiight.”

“You done spewing insects?” he snaps.

“Still heavily grossed-out here. Gimme a minute, ’kay?” She plonks herself on a rock, crumpling forward.

He mops his brow, strips his sweater, and takes the opportunity to check in on his bat bites. They’re still sore, the bandages a bit bloody. Nothing too fresh, though. For the billionth time, his thoughts fly back to Eddie. He hopes Eddie doesn’t get hurt and need healing while they’re apart, and… Holy shit, will he ever see him again? He ties his sweater around his hips, trying to make fumbling hands look casual.

“Steve? You okay?”

“Other than the fact I’m modelling a ‘shoot-me-now-why don’t-you?’ Hellfire Club t-shirt,”—and that I want to punch myself in the face about that moronic note—“I’m good, Robin.”

“You know what? I don’t doubt it.” She brushes her flyaway hair from suspicious eyes. “You’ve gone from death’s door to super-human speed in, oh, I don’t know—feels to me that we’ve been marching for a week. I think it’s been barely an hour.”

“Yeah? We got a long way to go then.” He starts off along the stream’s edge, forcibly slowing his pace. He senses her puffing, panting, then following on his heels.

“Look, Steve, this water goddess who’s pulling you back, whispering in your ear—”

“I can’t actually tell if they’re male or female. Does that matter?”

“Not in the slightest. So, your water… deity. Have they, by any chance, enlightened you as to some kind of divine plan? Or told you exactly where you’re heading?” 

“I got an idea where I’m going, yeah.” To the second place he died, swept away on that blood-red tide—even now, he sees it in his head, like a few frames of a horror VHS stuck on eternal repeat. “Where’s the best place for army generals with dodgy agendas to hang out in Hawkins? There’s never been an army base, apart from—”

“You’re kidding me?” She grabs his elbow, jerking him back. “The Soviet tunnels?” He nods, and her obvious dread has her dropping him like a stone. “No way! I don’t think I can go anywhere near without a major panic attack."

“I’m not gonna march straight in.” He’s already wandering on. Trouble is, now he’s said the idea out loud, it’s become real and terrible. And he’s gotta pretend like his blood’s not congealing to ice. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get in anyhow. I mean, the Starcourt lift is buried under a ton of rubble. I think Hop might’ve know other ways—”

“Oooh, I got a great idea. Let’s go back and ask him.”

“Yeah, real subtle.”

“Steve!” She seizes him again, twisting him around with a furious force. “I know you want to help El, but what can you ACTUALLY DO?” He shrugs before he can stop himself. “Rain? Lightning? How does that benefit us—especially in underground tunnels? Plus you’ve had literally zero time for practice. If we don’t slow down and come up with a decent plan, this is tantamount to suicide.”

“We? Seriously, Robin, I…” His teeth clamp his lower lip. Any moment now, he’ll tell her how terrified he is, how he really, really doesn’t want to get tortured again, let alone die; how the idea of anything bad happening to her is as frightening as any of it. “I don’t think I have much choice.”

“Steve,” she says, gentler now, though her grip gouges into his flesh. “It’s screamingly obvious you’re not thinking straight. You’ve been ill for days and now you’re in a funk, beating yourself up over Eddie.”

He yanks himself free, glares. “That doesn’t make any dif—"

“Bullshit! Trust me, however ‘mean boy’ your literary masterpiece got, Eddie won’t want you to do anything this dumb. Oh, and your resident gender-fluid angel saved your life. They’re not gonna want you to sacrifice it pointlessly.”

He opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it again. He laughs—not a particularly happy laugh, but not totally miserable either. “You win,” he says, kinda sagging with relief. “You got a plan, smarty-pants?”

She laughs with him, equally edgy. “I say we go to Lover’s Lake, wait till it’s dark. If that’s too dangerous, we find some hidden pool where you can practise whatever badass moves you think you got. Hopefully without the puking. It’ll be a bit like Band Camp. But for Magic. Magic Camp. Okay?”

“You really aren’t gonna be happy until I’m a bigger nerd that any of… Shit!” 

He’s been considering hugging her. Instead, he seizes her sleeve, dragging her down into a deep, wet gully. They land with a splash, crouching low, close. She doesn’t complain, because she’s heard what he has.

The distant sound of barking dogs. Likely, army search dogs.

“Dog barks travel for miles, huh?” he whispers.

“Possibly.” She sucks in a scared breath. “One thing for sure—those sniffy wet snouts can pick up a human scent from the next county.”

“We’re in a stream, Robin. They can’t pick up our scent here, right?”

She crinkles her nose, dubious. “Dogs’ sense of smell is pretty amazing.”

“Yeah? Let’s hope this bunch caught colds or something.” 

He’s now the one clutching her way too tight, and he half-wishes he’d ditched her with a bitchy note too. Though, not quite. She smart; he needs her, and she’s really has gotten him thinking clearer: 

“We head for Lover’s Lake. C’mon.”

…

Eddie POV

When the sound of the car engine finally reaches his hearing, Eddie feels almost nothing.

“Don’t move.” Hopper pitches Eddie a forbidding look and grabs El, keeping them low behind the ferns. 

An owl hoots. Despite the hollowness in his chest, Eddie silently cracks up. Seriously? Top secret government goons can’t think of a better signal than me and Robin? 

Hopper’s grip slides to the firearm at his side. He rises slowly. “Over here.”

Peeping between the foliage, Eddie can make out a limo-style saloon with blacked-out windows. A severe-faced woman in lethal stilettos climbs out. “Chief Hopper, I presume? I apologise for the delay. O’Sullivan’s got men everywhere. We must leave right away.”

Hopper, nevertheless, remains stood well off the road with Eleven, not rushing for the car. And Eddie? 

You make me sick.

Steve’s made it simple for him. He should cut his losses and take this chance of escape. Wayne would want him to. Apart from… Eddie literally can’t. What was it that Steve said? Oh yeah. That he was being stretched in the wrong direction. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, I’m feelin’ it, Stevie. 

Nothing supernatural, nothing hinky. You kill me that bad, Babe—even after you turned meanie-King-Steve and dumped me. Oh, and went back to goddamn Mordor without me! 

Gonna trust you had your reasons, and I’m coming anyway.

He turns on his dirt-clotted heels and flees as fast as he can.

Part 15

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

#steddie #steve harrington #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington whump #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stobin #platonic stobin #stobin friendship

[what-if-i-just-did]

Destiel Prompt List 24. Dean has nightmares.

Trigger Warnings: vivid nightmare, crying, fear of people leaving, fear of people dying, self-blame, mentions of fighting, betrayal and slight begging

Nightmares and Confessions

Dean looked around, anxiously. Maybe asking Cas to help him with his nightmares was a bad plan (he hadn't asked, Cas had insisted). Having Cas dreamwalk into his head, what was he thinking?! (He wasn't. Cas had insisted.) This was bound to go bad.

It started out relatively mild. He could tell they were in purgatory, but there wasn't any fighting. Benny wasn't there either, but Cas was next to him. They found the river, and they found another Cas. "Cas!" Dean yelled out, walking over to dream-Cas while real-Cas stayed behind. Dean hugged the dream-Cas. Then dream-Cas smiled weirdly, and black started to creep up his neck. "We run the show now", came the weird multi-layer voice of the Leviathan. "Cas, no!" Dean called out, and he reached for Cas, but they were tumbling into the river, and suddenly the river was a lake and Dean and real-Cas were at the shore, and the trenchcoat floated up. Dean took it and watched the black dissapear into the water. He turned around, to look at Cas, but he felt this white-hot pain and he couldn't see anything, and when he opened his eyes, they were black. He was a demon. So much for mild.

"Cas.." "Dean. It's alright, it's a dream. You're human, and I am right here, tell me if there's anything I can do." Dean blinked, and the black was gone. Now, though, he could see where they were. What was happening.

Dream-Cas is dead. They're at April's house, and Cas is lying dead in the chair. "Cas!" Dean goes over and shakes him. "Cas, common!" Sam, and by extension Gadreel, which is who saved them when this actually happened, is nowhere to be found. Real-Cas puts a hand on his shoulder. "Dean, this is a dream." Dean hangs his head, and denies that he's practically sobbing. He shakes his head and utters a choked syllable. "Cas..." Real-Cas brings Dean to his feet. "Dean. It's not real." He looks him in the eye, like trying to get in the message that he's right there. "I know. I know, that doesn't make this easier." And this is a dream, a nightmare, about Cas, and Dean is upset, and Cas is right there so he burrows his head into real-Cas' shoulder. " 't doesn't make it easier, Cas. You always-" A bubble of something comes up his throat and chokes him, but he's babbeling and he's kinda forgotten that this is the actual Castiel. "You always die. Or leave. Or- or betray me. Us- whatever. You're always gone. An- And I feel like it's my fault cause the one time I- one time you wanted to stay an' I told ya ta leave! And I didn't wanna cause I don't want you to leave but I'm too much of a freakin' coward to actually say that shit, so you keep leavin' and I really want you to not leave." He hold him tighter. "Never leave again. Please." And he sounds so tired. And so sad.

"Dean. Look." "Yeah?" He lifts his head, annoyed. He looks around, and they're on a field. It's sunny. It looks pretty. Dean slowly breaks the hug to look around him. "Wow." He smiles and turns to Cas. "Was that it? Did I do it?" "Yes Dean, I believe you have."

Castiel is smiling.

#dean winchester #destiel #spn #supernatural #castiel #deancas #casdean #tw nightmares